The Life We Pretended

episode 13

The next day didn’t try to be different—and that’s exactly what made it feel right. Aru reached school a little earlier than usual, not by much, just enough to notice that the usual noise hadn’t fully started yet. A few students were already around, sitting in small groups, some half-asleep, some already talking like the day had been going on for hours. He walked into the classroom, dropped his bag onto his seat, and stretched slightly. “Early today?” a voice came from behind. “…By accident,” Aru replied without turning. “That’s new.” “Don’t get used to it.” His friend laughed, taking the seat next to him. “We were just talking about you.” “That’s concerning.” “Very. Should we stop?” “Too late now.” Another friend leaned forward. “So… what’s going on with you and him?” “…Who?” Aru asked, even though he already knew. “Don’t do that,” she said. “Tree guy.” “He has a name.” “We like this one more.” Aru sighed lightly. “Nothing’s going on.” “Mhm.” “Really.” “Sure.” He looked at them. “…Why are you all like this?” “Because you’re interesting now,” one of them said. “You weren’t before?” “Not like this.” “Wow.” They laughed again, and the conversation moved on like it always did—fast, random, and slightly chaotic.

By the time class started, the room had filled up. The usual energy returned, teachers walking in with that same expression of “I know no one is fully listening.” Aru stayed normal—answering when needed, paying attention just enough, zoning out just enough. Nothing unusual. Nothing noticeable. But once again, somewhere between moments, his eyes moved. Not searching this time. Just checking. Rei was there. Sitting in his usual place, calm as always, looking at the board. At one point, their eyes met for a second. No reaction. No awkwardness. Just a small, silent acknowledgment. Then both looked away like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Or maybe it just didn’t need to be anything more.

Lunch came quicker than expected. This time, Aru didn’t wait. He stood up, grabbing his bag. “I’ll be back.” His friends immediately reacted. “There it is.” “Nature is healing.” “Shut up,” Aru said, already walking out. “Don’t be late!” one of them called out. “No promises,” he replied.

Under the tree, Rei was already there. Not sitting this time—just standing, looking at something on his phone. “You’re early,” Aru said as he walked over. “…You’re on time,” Rei replied. “Same thing.” “Not really.” Aru dropped his bag beside the tree and sat down. “You always say that.” “Because it’s true.” “According to who?” “Time.” “Time doesn’t talk.” “…It does.” “Okay, now you’re just making things up.” Rei sat down as well. “You talk too much.” “And you don’t talk enough.” “Balanced.” “Not how that works.” A small pause followed, not empty, just quiet. Aru opened his lunch. “So, what did you do yesterday?” “…Nothing.” “That’s boring.” “It was peaceful.” “You’re boring and peaceful.” “You’re loud and unnecessary.” “Unnecessary?” “Yes.” “Wow.” Aru shook his head slightly, but there was no real reaction behind it. It was just how they talked now.

A group of students passed by nearby, their voices loud enough to be noticed. One of them glanced at Aru and Rei, whispered something, and the group laughed quietly as they walked past. Aru noticed. “…They’re talking about us,” he said. “…Probably,” Rei replied. “You don’t care?” “Not really.” “What if they make something up?” “They already are.” “…True.” Aru leaned back slightly, looking up at the leaves above. “People get bored easily.” “So they create stories,” Rei added. “Yeah.” Another pause. “What kind of story do you think they’re making?” Aru asked. Rei thought for a second. “…That we meet here every day.” “That’s true.” “…That we only talk to each other.” “Also kind of true.” “…That it means something.” Aru glanced at him briefly. “…Does it?” Rei didn’t answer immediately. “…It’s just routine,” he said finally. “…Yeah,” Aru replied, looking away again. And that was it. No deeper discussion. No follow-up. Just another moment that passed like it didn’t matter.

After lunch, classes continued like usual. Nothing special happened, but nothing felt dull either. It was just one of those days that moved smoothly without trying. Aru’s friends were louder in the afternoon, joking more, pulling him into random conversations. “If you had to choose,” one of them said suddenly, “study for exams or skip school forever?” “Skip,” Aru replied instantly. “Same,” another said. “You all are going to fail,” someone added. “We’ll fail together.” “That’s not comforting.” “It is.” Aru laughed slightly, shaking his head. “You’re all impossible.” “And yet, you’re here.” “Unfortunately.” “Rude.” More laughter.

At one point, one of them leaned closer again. “He came to get you yesterday.” “…Yeah.” “That’s serious.” “It’s not.” “It is.” “It’s really not.” “Okay, okay,” she said, backing off slightly. “But we’re watching.” “…Why?” “Because it’s interesting.” Aru didn’t respond this time. Not because he didn’t have anything to say—but because he didn’t feel like continuing that topic again.

After school, the usual walk happened again. No planning. No asking. It just happened. “You know,” Aru said as they walked, “my friends think you kidn*pped me yesterday.” “…Did I?” Rei asked. “No.” “Then they’re wrong.” “That’s what I said.” “…Good.” “You didn’t even defend yourself.” “Didn’t need to.” “Confident.” “Accurate.” “Same thing.” “Not really.” Aru let out a small laugh. “You’re impossible to argue with.” “You still try.” “Because I can win.” “You don’t.” “I will.” “Okay.” “…That sounded fake.” “It was.” “Wow.”

They reached the crossing again. Same place. Same pause. “See you,” Rei said. “Yeah,” Aru replied. Then, without thinking too much about it, he added, “…Tomorrow too.” Rei looked at him for a second. “…Probably,” he said. Not a big reaction. Not a big moment. Just a small addition to something that already existed.

That night, things stayed simple. Aru didn’t overthink anything. He didn’t replay conversations or analyze words. It was just another day. A normal one. But somewhere in that normal, something had settled into place a little more firmly. Not something big. Not something obvious. Just… something that felt like it belonged there.

And maybe that was enough.