The Next Morning.
The weight of last night still lingers in my chest, pressing down like an unseen force. Even as I step onto campus, surrounded by the usual morning bustle—students chatting, footsteps echoing against the hallways, the distant hum of a vending machine—none of it reaches me. My thoughts are still tangled up in everything that happened at Kaori's place.
What was I even expecting? Some kind of clarity? An answer that would magically make sense of this mess?
Instead, I walked away even more confused than before.
And now, as I step into the classroom, my eyes immediately land on her.
Kaori is already at her desk, her posture casual, one hand resting lightly on her open notebook. From a distance, she looks as composed as ever—effortlessly put-together, her long black hair cascading over one shoulder. But something feels off. She isn't chatting with anyone like she normally would. She isn't even looking up.
