The Life We Pretended

episode 14

Morning settled in like it always did—noise building slowly, voices layering over each other until the classroom felt alive again. Aru walked in right as one of his friends waved him over. “There you are.” “I was always here,” he replied, dropping his bag. “Not emotionally,” another added. “You’re all dramatic,” Aru said, sitting down. “Says the one who disappears every lunch,” someone pointed out. “…I eat,” he replied. “Under a tree.” “It’s a good tree.” “With a certain person.” “People like trees.” “Not that much.” Aru leaned back slightly. “You all need better hobbies.” “We have one,” a friend said. “Watching you.” “That’s worse.” They laughed, clearly not planning to stop anytime soon.

Before Aru could say anything else, the teacher walked in, clapping once. “Settle down.” The room slowly quieted, though whispers still lingered. “We’re doing a paired activity today,” the teacher continued. Immediate reactions filled the room—some excited, some already complaining. “Pairs will be assigned.” Groans. “Why assigned?” someone muttered. “Because if I let you choose, nothing will get done,” the teacher replied calmly. A list started forming. Names were called one by one. Aru didn’t pay much attention at first—until he heard it. “Aru… and Rei.”

A few heads turned instantly.

“…Of course,” one of Aru’s friends whispered.

Aru blinked once, then stood up casually like it didn’t matter. Rei did the same from across the room. No reaction. No comment. Just movement. They ended up at the same desk, sitting across from each other. “Convenient,” Aru said quietly. “…For the teacher,” Rei replied. “Not for us?” “…Depends.” “On what?” “If you actually work.” Aru smirked slightly. “I always work.” “…Sometimes.” “That’s still always.” Rei didn’t respond, just glanced at the paper in front of them. “We should start.” “Already serious,” Aru said. “It’s easier that way.” “You’re no fun.” “You talk too much.” “We’ve been over this.” “And it’s still true.”

They started working. It wasn’t difficult—just something that needed attention. Aru read out questions, Rei answered some, Aru corrected others, and somehow it balanced out without effort. “You skipped one,” Aru pointed out. “…No, I didn’t.” “You did.” Rei looked back. “…Oh.” “See?” “I was going to come back to it.” “Sure.” “…I was.” “Mhm.” A small pause. “You don’t trust me?” Rei asked. “Not with skipping questions.” “…Fair.”

From behind them, quiet whispers started. “They look normal.” “Too normal.” “That’s suspicious.” “Shh.” Aru heard it, but didn’t react. Not because he didn’t notice—but because it didn’t matter enough to respond. Rei didn’t react either. They just continued.

When the activity ended, the teacher collected papers. “Good work,” she said. “Some of you, at least.” The class slowly returned to its usual energy. Aru stretched slightly. “That wasn’t bad.” “…It was work,” Rei replied. “That means it was bad.” “You still finished it.” “Barely.” “You did most of it.” “Don’t expose me.” “…It’s obvious.” “Wow.” Aru shook his head lightly.

As soon as the teacher left, Aru’s friends moved in. “Sooo…” one of them started. “Don’t,” Aru said immediately. “We didn’t say anything yet.” “You were about to.” “Maybe.” “Definitely.” Another friend leaned closer. “Was it romantic?” “…It was homework.” “That’s not an answer.” “It is.” “You’re boring.” “Thank you.” “He called you boring too, right?” “Yes.” “Wow.” They looked offended on his behalf. Aru just smiled slightly. “You’re all too invested.” “Because it’s fun.” “For you.” “Exactly.”

Lunch came, and this time it wasn’t even a question. Aru stood up, grabbed his bag, and walked out without saying anything. “He didn’t even pretend,” one of his friends said. “Growth,” another replied.

Under the tree, Rei was already sitting. “You didn’t wait today,” Aru said as he approached. “…You didn’t either,” Rei replied. “Fair.” Aru sat down, placing his bag beside him. “Your fault, by the way.” “…For what?” “Pairing.” “I didn’t choose it.” “You influenced it.” “…How?” “Your presence.” “…That’s not how it works.” “It is now.” Rei looked at him for a second. “…You’re making things up again.” “I do that.” “I know.”

They started eating. No rush. No pressure. Just another normal moment. “People were watching,” Aru said after a while. “…They always are.” “More today.” “…Because of the pairing.” “Yeah.” A small pause. “You still don’t care?” Aru asked. Rei thought for a second. “…It doesn’t change anything.” “True.” “So there’s nothing to care about.” “…Makes sense.” Aru leaned back slightly, looking up again. The leaves moved a little with the wind, sunlight slipping through in small patterns. “You really like this place,” he said. “…It’s quiet,” Rei replied. “School is not.” “…Exactly.” “You’re avoiding people.” “I’m choosing less noise.” “Same thing.” “…Not really.” “You always say that.” “Because it’s true.”

A group passed by again, slower this time. One of them openly looked at Aru and Rei, then nudged their friend. “…They’re not even hiding it,” someone whispered. Aru heard that one clearly. “…We’re hiding?” he muttered. “…Apparently,” Rei replied. “Should we?” “…No.” “Good.”

After lunch, the day continued smoothly. Nothing major happened, but small things stacked up. A glance here, a shared comment there, a quiet moment when no one else noticed. During one class, Aru dropped his pen. It rolled slightly forward—closer to Rei’s desk. Rei picked it up without looking and placed it back on Aru’s table. “…Thanks,” Aru said. “…You’re welcome.” No eye contact. No extra movement. Just simple.

After school, the walk happened again. Same path, same pace. “You know,” Aru said, “if this keeps happening, people are going to make bigger stories.” “…Let them,” Rei replied. “You really don’t care.” “…Do you?” Aru thought for a second. “…Not really.” “…Then it doesn’t matter.” “True.” A small pause. “Still funny though.” “…It is.” “They think it means something.” “…Does it?” Rei asked. Aru looked ahead. “…It’s just normal,” he said. “…Yeah,” Rei replied.

They reached the crossing again. Stopped. Same as always. “…See you,” Rei said. “Yeah,” Aru replied. Then added, without much thought, “…Don’t be late tomorrow.” Rei looked at him briefly. “…You’re the one who’s late.” “Not anymore.” “…We’ll see.” “We will.”

They went their separate ways.

No big thoughts.

No heavy meaning.

Just another day.

But somewhere in all those “normal” moments, something had quietly changed—not enough to notice clearly, not enough to name—but enough that if it disappeared, it would feel missing.

And neither of them said that.