Kurume
I stood at the door.
Miyako's house.
I couldn't bring myself to press the bell for a long time.
A hundred thoughts in my head.
A weight in my chest.
"I just need to talk. Even if she never forgives me — I have to say this."
I rang the bell.
Footsteps.
Her mother opened the door.
— "Kurume? She's… not really in the mood right now."
— "I understand. I just… want to give her something."
I held out the envelope.
— "Alright. I'll let her know you came."
I bowed and walked away.
Later, at home
An identical envelope lay on my desk.
Inside — a letter.
I had rewritten it several times.
> "I won't say you're wrong. You have every right to be angry, to be hurt, to stay silent.
All I ask is this: remember how you used to laugh beside me.
If that means anything at all — I'm here. Waiting. Always."
Few words.
But they were mine.
The Next Morning
I came in earlier than anyone else and took my seat.
Miyako didn't show up.
I was hoping to talk to her in person.
And then Sayo walked into the classroom.
That same too-polite smile on her face.
She sat down, a little too close.
— "You look tired, Kurume."
— "Not your concern."
— "But I worry. You can count on me."
— "I'm not going to pretend nothing happened. You know what you did."
She leaned in.
— "Of course I do. That's exactly why you need me."
— "Leave."
— "Can't," she said softly. "I'm not here because you want me to be.
I'm here because she's not."
I clenched my fists.
And then — someone walked in.
The classroom started filling up.
Suddenly, Sayo…
Rested her head on my shoulder.
— "Don't push me away. Stop acting like you're all alone."
Click.
A sharp sound nearby —
Someone had taken a photo.
I turned — one of our classmates looked at us, surprised, then quickly turned away.
— "What are you doing?!" I hissed.
Sayo just smiled.
— "Helping you be honest."
— "Get your hands off me."
— "Too late."