Akane-san's words about Sakura-san carrying a lot of pressure stayed with me. I saw the public Sakura Yamato – confident, radiant, effortlessly managing the attention from our contest win and our relationship. But Akane-san suggested there was more beneath the surface. Someone who needed a refuge.
I wanted to understand that part of her. The part she didn't show to the world.
One afternoon, I walked with Sakura-san towards the Student Council room after club activities. She had a meeting, and I just walked with her part of the way, enjoying the quiet time together in the emptying hallways.
As we walked, we talked about our day, about the upcoming exams, about trivial things. It was comfortable, easy, the sign of a relationship that was slowly growing beyond the initial excitement and awkwardness.
We passed by the main office, and a group of teachers were talking near the display case where our contest certificate was proudly exhibited. As we walked by, I overheard a snippet of their conversation.
"...Yamato-san is doing wonderfully, of course," one teacher said. "Such a credit to the school. Following in her family's footsteps, aren't they aiming for Todai?"
"Todai?" another teacher replied. "Yes, I believe so. Her family has quite the reputation. High expectations, I imagine. Especially after her brother..."
The teachers' voices trailed off as we moved further down the hallway. But the words "family's footsteps," "high expectations," and "her brother" hung in the air.
Sakura-san seemed not to have heard, or perhaps she pretended not to. Her expression remained calm. But I glanced at her, and for a fleeting second, I saw a subtle tension around her eyes, a quick, almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw. It was the same kind of tension I'd seen when she was genuinely stressed, or when faced with questions about her family pressure regarding the club.
We reached the Student Council room. Akane-san was already inside, looking over documents.
"I need to go in now, Tanaka-kun," Sakura-san said, turning to me, her public smile back in place.
"Okay, Sakura," I replied, using her first name naturally. "See you later?"
Her smile softened slightly, becoming more genuine. "Yes, Hiroshi. See you later."
She turned and went into the Student Council room, the door closing behind her. I lingered for a moment, the snippet of conversation I'd overheard replaying in my mind. Todai? Her family's reputation? High expectations? Her brother?
It sounded like a world of pressure I couldn't even begin to understand. It made sense why the quiet escape of the Classic Literature & Film Society, the one her grandmother founded, was so important to her. It wasn't just about the club; it was perhaps one of the few things in her life that was hers, tied to a personal legacy rather than external expectations.
Later that evening, we were texting. We talked about trivial things again, the kind of easy conversation we had settled into. I hesitated for a moment, then decided to ask, carefully.
Me: Hey, um... randomly overheard something today... about your family? And... expectations? Sorry if it's too personal. Sakura: Oh? What did you hear? (Her response was casual, but came back quickly). Me: Just... teachers mentioning your family's reputation... and high expectations... and Todai? And... uh... your brother? Sakura: Ah. That. Yeah, my family... they value success. A lot. Especially academic success. Todai is sort of... the family tradition. My grandfather went there, my father went there... my older brother was supposed to go there too. (There was a pause before the last part). Me: Was? What happened to your brother? (I typed, then immediately regretted asking. It felt too intrusive). Sakura: (Long pause). Sakura: He... he got sick. A few years ago. Really sick. He had to stop studying. He... he's not able to pursue that path anymore. (Her messages were shorter, less fluid than usual). Me: Oh, Sakura... I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I shouldn't have asked. Sakura: No, it's okay, Hiroshi. Most people at school don't know the details. It happened when I was just starting middle school. It was... a difficult time. Sakura: After that... the expectations... they kind of... shifted. To me. Especially from my father. He really wanted my brother to succeed. And now... (Another pause). It feels like... I have to carry both his expectations and my own. And the family reputation. Me: That sounds like... a lot of pressure. Sakura: It is. Sometimes... it feels suffocating. Like I don't get to just... be. Just be Sakura. Everything is tied to expectations.
Her honesty was raw and unexpected. It was a glimpse behind the perfect curtain, into the world of pressure she lived in. Todai, family reputation, a sick brother whose dreams she felt obligated to carry – it was a heavy burden.
Me: Is that... is that why the Classic Literature & Film Society was so important? Because it was something different? Something just... yours and your grandma's? Sakura: (Pause). Yes, Hiroshi. Exactly. It felt like... one of the few things that wasn't about 'expectations' or 'reputation.' It was just about stories. And my grandmother loved it. Saving it... it felt like saving a piece of something real. Something just for me.
My heart ached for her. The girl everyone saw as effortlessly perfect was carrying the weight of an entire family's deferred dreams and expectations. It put her dedication to the club, her initial desperate plan, and her need for a 'refuge' into sharp perspective.
Me: Well... for what it's worth... I like getting to see... just Sakura. Not the expectations. Sakura: (A few minutes passed before her reply). Sakura: Thank you, Hiroshi. 😊 That... that means a lot. More than you know.
The conversation ended there. It wasn't a typical Rom-Com chat. It was heavier, more personal. But it felt incredibly significant. I had gotten a glimpse behind the curtain, understood a piece of the pressure she lived with, and perhaps, offered a small moment of genuine connection that wasn't tied to any expectation.
It made my feelings for her deeper. It made the world she came from feel more real and more daunting. And it made me understand that being her partner wasn't just about public appearances or awkward dates; it was also about potentially being a refuge from the very real pressures of her life.