episode 11
1418 Words
The feeling didn’t stay gentle anymore. It had grown past that point—past quiet thoughts, past small moments, past simple confusion. Now, it had weight. Now, it had presence. And Aru felt it the moment he opened his eyes that morning. Not excitement. Not calm. Something else. Something heavier. Something that made his chest feel tight even before the day had begun. He stared at the ceiling longer than usual, his thoughts already moving, already circling around the same person without even trying to stop. “…This isn’t normal,” he whispered to himself. But even as he said it, he didn’t push the feeling away. Because a part of him didn’t want to.
He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair, and walked toward the mirror. The reflection was the same as always, unchanged, steady, familiar—but his expression wasn’t. There was something more in his eyes now. Something restless. Something searching. “…Why do I feel like this?” he murmured. He adjusted his hair carefully, smoothing it down, fixing small details that didn’t need fixing. Not because he was told to. Not because he had to. But because he wanted to. And that realization made him pause. “…I didn’t use to care this much.” His hand lowered slowly. “…So why now?”
“Aru.” His mother’s voice came, sharp and controlled as always. “Don’t waste time.” “I’m coming.” He turned away from the mirror quickly, but the thought followed him.
Breakfast was quiet, but not peaceful. His mother watched him more than usual, her gaze sharp, observant. “You’ve been distracted for days.” “…I’m fine,” Aru replied. “You’re not.” Her tone didn’t rise, but it didn’t need to. “Focus on what matters. Don’t let unnecessary things control your thoughts.” Aru nodded slightly. “…Okay.” But inside, something resisted. Because what she called “unnecessary” didn’t feel unnecessary anymore.
At school, the air felt different. Not outside—inside him. He stepped through the gate, and his body reacted before his mind could stop it. His eyes searched. Instinctively. Automatically. And there—near the corridor—Rei stood, just like always. Calm. Still. Unchanged. But something about him felt distant today. Not physically. Just… different.
Aru slowed his steps. “…He looks the same,” he thought. “…So why does it feel like something’s off?” Before he could think further, his friends surrounded him. “Aruuu!” “You look serious today,” one of them said. “…Do I?” “Yeah. Like you’re about to fight someone,” another joked. Aru smiled faintly. “I’m not.” “Good,” they laughed. “Because you’d lose.” Normally, he would laugh more. Tease back. Stay fully present. But today—his attention kept slipping. Back to Rei. Back to that quiet presence.
“…You’re doing it again,” one of his friends whispered. “…What?” “Thinking somewhere else.” “…I’m not.” She smiled knowingly. “We trust you.” That word again. It always made things easier. And yet, today, it made him feel slightly guilty.
Class started, but Aru couldn’t focus. Not because he was distracted by thoughts—but because he was aware. Too aware. Every small movement felt louder. Every moment felt heavier. And Rei—he didn’t look at Aru once.
Not even once.
“…Why?” The question formed before he could stop it. “…Did I do something?” He tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on his work. But the silence between them—this new, unfamiliar distance—kept pulling at him.
When lunch came, Aru didn’t wait this time. He stood up immediately. “I’ll be back.” His friends didn’t stop him. They didn’t question him. They just nodded. “Go.”
Aru walked faster than usual. Not running—but close enough. His chest felt tight again, the same feeling from the morning growing stronger with every step. “…This is stupid,” he thought. “…Why does this matter so much?” But he didn’t stop.
When he reached the tree—
Rei was there.
Sitting.
Alone.
Just like always.
And yet—
It didn’t feel the same.
Aru slowed down, his steps becoming uncertain for the first time in days. “…Hey,” he said softly.
Rei looked up. “…Hey.”
That was it.
No teasing.
No small comment.
No “you’re late.”
Just… that.
Aru sat down beside him, but the silence that followed felt heavier than ever before.
“…You’re quiet,” Aru said.
“…You too,” Rei replied.
A small pause.
“…Something’s wrong,” Aru said, more directly this time.
Rei didn’t answer immediately.
“…No,” he said after a moment.
“…That’s not true.”
Rei looked at him. “…Why do you think that?”
“…Because you’re different,” Aru replied, his voice slightly tighter now. “…You didn’t look at me once today.”
Silence.
“…So you noticed,” Rei said.
“…Of course I did.”
Another pause.
“…I was busy,” Rei said calmly.
“…You’re always calm,” Aru replied quickly. “…That doesn’t explain anything.”
The words came out sharper than he expected.
And for a second—
Even he was surprised.
Rei didn’t react strongly. But his gaze changed slightly.
“…Why does it matter?” Rei asked.
Aru froze.
“…What?”
“…Why does it matter if I look at you or not?”
That question hit harder than anything else.
Because Aru didn’t have an answer.
At least—not one he understood.
“…It just does,” he said finally.
“…That’s not an answer.”
“…I know.”
The air between them shifted.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
But tense.
Real.
“…You’re acting like I did something wrong,” Rei said quietly.
“…You did,” Aru replied before thinking.
Another silence.
He regretted it immediately.
“…I mean—” he started, but stopped.
Because he didn’t know how to fix it.
Rei looked away slightly, his expression calmer than expected—but more distant than before.
“…I didn’t,” he said.
And that was it.
No explanation.
No defense.
Just that.
And somehow—
That made it worse.
“…Fine,” Aru said quietly.
The word felt heavy in his mouth.
Not true.
But easier than saying anything else.
The rest of lunch passed in silence.
Not comfortable.
Not calm.
Just… empty.
After school, Aru didn’t wait.
He started walking first.
Not looking back.
Not slowing down.
Not checking if Rei was following.
But he could feel it.
Rei was there.
Walking behind him.
Not catching up.
Not falling behind.
Just… there.
The distance between them felt larger than it ever had before.
Even though they were only a few steps apart.
“…This is stupid,” Aru thought, his hands tightening slightly.
“…Why am I feeling like this?”
They reached the crossing.
Stopped.
Like always.
But this time—
They didn’t look at each other immediately.
“…See you,” Rei said.
Not “tomorrow.”
Not like before.
Just—
“…See you.”
Aru hesitated.
For a second.
Then nodded.
“…Yeah.”
That night, the silence didn’t leave.
It grew.
Aru sat by his window, staring outside, his thoughts louder than ever.
“…I messed up.”
The words came out quietly.
But they felt true.
“…I didn’t mean to say that.”
He rested his head against the glass.
“…Why did I get so upset?”
The answer came slowly.
Reluctantly.
But clearly.
“…Because I didn’t like it.”
“…I didn’t like him being distant.”
“…I didn’t like not being important.”
He closed his eyes tightly.
“…Since when did he become this important?”
No answer.
Across the city, Rei sat in his room, leaning against the wall.
Silent.
Still.
But not unaffected.
“…He was upset,” he murmured.
He replayed the moment in his mind.
The words.
The tone.
The way Aru looked.
“…I didn’t like that either.”
He exhaled slowly.
“…But I didn’t understand it.”
Two lives.
Still hidden.
Still unchanged.
But now—
Something had cracked.
Not broken.
Not destroyed.
But cracked enough—
To let something real show through.
- Writer
