The laughter didn't stop. It echoed across the classroom, loud and careless, as if nothing else mattered.
"Did you see his face?" Kota said, trying not to laugh.
"Yeah… like he was about to cry," Yoshi added.
I stared at my desk, my fingers tightening slowly. "...Stop it," I whispered, but my voice was too low to reach them.
The noise continued.
Then a chair moved.
I looked up. Ken had stood up. No expression. No hesitation.
"...Ken?" I called softly.
He didn't look at me. He simply walked forward, calm and unbothered, heading straight toward them.
Yoshi noticed him first. "Oh? The quiet guy's friend?" he smirked. "You wanna say something?"
Ken didn't reply. Instead, he pulled a chair and sat beside them. The small scraping sound of the chair against the floor seemed louder than it should have been.
"...What are you doing?" Kota frowned.
Ken leaned back slightly, relaxed. "You seem entertained," he said, his voice soft but steady.
"Yeah," Yoshi replied. "We're just having fun."
"I see," Ken said. After a brief pause, he added, "May I join?"
Kota laughed. "Go ahead."
Ken nodded once. "What are you talking about?"
Yoshi pointed at me. "Him."
My chest tightened.
"He can't even speak properly," Kota added.
Ken glanced at me for a moment, then looked back at them. "I see," he repeated.
For a second, everything felt normal.
Then something changed.
It wasn't obvious. Not sudden. But his gaze sharpened, just slightly. His expression didn't move, but the atmosphere around him did.
"You find that funny?" he asked.
His tone was calm, but the air felt heavier.
Yoshi blinked. "...Yeah. Why?"
Ken didn't answer. He just looked at him—directly, without blinking.
Seconds passed.
The noise in the classroom slowly faded. Conversations died down one by one, as if people had unconsciously noticed something was off.
Kota shifted slightly. "...Why are you staring like that?"
No reply.
Ken didn't move. Didn't react. He simply kept looking.
And that was enough.
Something about that silence felt wrong. Not loud, not aggressive—but heavy. Uncomfortable.
Yoshi clicked his tongue, trying to act normal. "...Say something."
Ken finally spoke.
"If that is your idea of 'fun'… you must not have much to think about."
There was no anger in his voice. No sarcasm. Just a quiet statement.
And somehow, that made it worse.
No one laughed.
No one moved.
Ken stood up and pushed the chair back gently. "I dislike unnecessary noise," he said, as if stating a simple fact.
Then he turned and walked away.
No rush. No hesitation.
He opened the door and left the classroom.
Silence followed.
Kota looked at Yoshi. "...What was that?"
Yoshi didn't answer immediately. "...Why did he look like that…?" Kota added quietly.
"...I don't know," Yoshi muttered.
For the first time, they weren't laughing.
I sat there, still, my heart beating faster than before. I looked at the door.
"...Ken…"
He didn't shout. He didn't fight. He didn't even raise his voice.
And yet, he changed everything in that room.
Just by being there.
Just by looking.
And somehow… that felt more powerful than anything else.
I couldn't sit there anymore. I stood up and walked out of the class. "Ken?" The hallway was empty. I checked near the stairs, then the corridor, then even the ground floor. Nothing. My steps grew faster without me realizing it. "Where did he go…?" My chest felt uneasy, and I didn't understand why.
Finally, I went to the terrace. The door was slightly open, and the wind was stronger there. I pushed it gently.
Ken was standing near the edge, looking at the sky.
"…Ken."
"I knew you would come," he said without turning.
"Why did you leave like that?"
"No reason. I just didn't want to stay."
I walked closer. "You didn't have to do that back there."
"I know."
"Then why did you?"
He turned and looked at me. "Because you won't."
I looked down. "…I tried."
"I know."
For a moment, only the sound of the wind filled the space between us.
"You know," he said, "you are very innocent."
I frowned. "…That's not a good thing, right?"
"And a little stupid."
"…Hey."
"I am not insulting you," he replied calmly. "I am just being honest."
I sighed. "…Fine. Go on."
"You think staying quiet will solve things. It won't."
"I don't want trouble."
"Standing for yourself is not trouble."
I didn't reply.
"You don't have to become a bad person," he continued. "You just have to stop letting others decide your worth."
"…It's not easy."
"I didn't say it was."
"…What if I fail?"
"Then fail," he said simply. "At least it will be your choice."
I looked at him. "…You make it sound simple."
"It is simple. Not easy. But simple."
There was a pause. The wind felt calmer now.
"…Why do you care?" I asked.
He didn't answer immediately. Then he said quietly, "Because you don't."
That hit harder than anything else.
I looked away. "…You're really harsh."
"I know."
"…But you're not wrong."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"…Ken."
"Yes?"
"…Thank you."
He didn't say anything, but this time he didn't look away either.
And somehow, that was enough.
The wind grew colder, and for a moment neither of us spoke. Then a drop fell. I looked up. The sky had darkened without me noticing. "…It's going to rain," I said quietly. "It already started," Ken replied. Another drop fell, then another, and within seconds the rain began pouring steadily.
"We should go inside," I said, but Ken didn't move. "I like the rain," he said softly. I hesitated, then stayed. The rain soaked through my shirt quickly, my hair sticking to my face as cold water ran down my neck. It should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn't. It felt calm. Ken stood still, eyes slightly closed, letting the rain fall on him like it didn't matter. "…You'll get sick," I said. "I don't," he replied. "…That's not normal." "I know."
I let out a small breath. "…You always say that." "Because it is true." For a while, we just stood there, listening to the rain hitting the rooftop and railing. It was quiet in a different way, not empty, but peaceful. "…Ken," I said. "Yes?" "…Earlier, when you looked at them… it felt different." He opened his eyes slightly. "…You felt different."
He didn't answer immediately. Rain ran down his face, but his expression stayed the same. "…Did it scare you?" he asked. I thought for a moment, then shook my head. "…No." That was the truth. It didn't scare me. "…It felt safe," I added quietly. For a second, something in his eyes shifted, but he looked away again. "…You are strange," he said. "…You're the one standing in the rain like nothing's happening." "That is normal for me." "…You're not normal." "I know."
I laughed softly, but then a strong gust of wind hit us. Ken moved slightly, almost losing balance. "…Ken?" I stepped closer. "…Are you okay?" "I said I don't get sick," he muttered, but his voice sounded weaker this time. "…You're lying." "No." "…You are." He took a small step back and steadied himself, but I noticed his hand shaking slightly.
"…Ken." "I am fine." "You're not." The rain kept falling harder. "…You said you felt dizzy earlier," I said. "Is it getting worse?" He didn't answer, and that was enough for me. I grabbed his arm. "…We're going inside." "Unnecessary." "Not optional."
He looked at me, quiet for a second. "…You are ordering me now?" "…Yes." There was a brief pause before he said softly, "…Good." "…What?" "…You are improving." Even now, he was like this. "…You're unbelievable." "I know."
This time, he didn't pull his arm away. We walked toward the terrace door together, the rain still falling behind us. And for the first time, it didn't feel like he was the only one taking care of me.
We stepped inside, closing the terrace door behind us. The sudden silence felt strange after the sound of rain. Water dripped from our clothes onto the floor, and for a moment neither of us moved.
"You're soaked," I said.
"So are you."
"That's not the point."
"It is."
I sighed. "Come on, we'll catch a cold like this."
"I told you, I don't get sick."
"…You're really not normal."
"I know."
We walked down the stairs together. The hallway felt warmer, and slowly the cold from the rain started fading. I glanced at him again. This time, he looked completely fine. No weakness. No hesitation. Just the same calm expression.
"…You really are okay," I said.
"I told you already."
"…Still feels strange."
"That is because you overthink."
"…I don't overthink that much."
"You do."
I didn't argue.
We returned to the classroom. The noise came back instantly. Students were talking like nothing had happened earlier. Yoshi and Kota were there too. They looked at us for a moment, then quickly looked away.
No comments.
No laughter.
I noticed it.
"…They're quiet today," I whispered.
"They learned something," Ken replied.
"…From you?"
"From themselves."
"…That doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't need to."
We sat down. I tried to focus on the class, but my mind kept going back to the terrace… and his words.
After school, the sky was still grey, but the rain had stopped.
We walked together toward the station.
"…Ken."
"Yes?"
"…Why do you like rain?"
He looked ahead, thinking for a second.
"Because it hides things."
"…Hides?"
"People don't notice tears in the rain."
I froze slightly.
"…That's kind of sad."
"It is also useful."
"…You're really strange."
"I know."
We reached the station. The evening crowd was less than usual, and everything felt calmer.
"…Are we taking the 8:30 train?" I asked.
"Yes."
We sat on a bench.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then—
"Little boy."
"…Don't start."
"You improved today."
"…You already said that."
"I am saying it again."
"…Why?"
"So you remember it."
I looked away slightly.
"…It's embarrassing."
"It shouldn't be."
A small silence followed.
Then Ken leaned slightly closer.
"…Next time," he said quietly, "don't wait for me to speak."
I blinked.
"…You mean… I should say something myself?"
"Yes."
"…What if I mess up?"
"You will."
"…That's not encouraging."
"It is realistic."
I let out a small breath.
"…You're really bad at comforting people."
"I am not trying to comfort you."
"…Yeah, I noticed."
He leaned back again, calm as always.
"…But," he added after a second, "you did well."
I looked at him.
"…You always say things like that at the end."
"Because that is when you listen."
"…That's not true."
"It is."
I couldn't help it.
I smiled a little.
"…You're annoying."
"I know."
The train lights appeared in the distance.
And for some reason—
this time—
waiting didn't feel lonely.