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Monday morning. Two days had crawled by since that rainy night. The small scrap of paper in my blazer pocket kept pulling at my attention. It was just a simple pencil sketch, but at this moment, it felt more special to me than any trophy I had ever won. I had left his hoodie folded neatly at the foot of his bed that dawn, feeling a sudden chill as I stepped away. Now, this little drawing was the only thing connecting me to that quiet room.
The morning classes were nothing but a blur of words that I couldn't care less about. My math teacher was busy writing something about calculus on the board, but nothing was going into my head. My mind was miles away. All I could see were the rain ripples Arata had drawn in his notebook. It was only forty-eight hours ago that I was sitting on a cold floor in a messy apartment, eating porridge. Now, staring at the blackboard, that world felt light-years away.
I glanced at the back of the class. Arata was there, slumped in his chair, looking out the window as if the world inside this room didn't exist. I wondered if he was thinking about that night too, or if he had already tucked it away in some dark corner of his mind.
"Sayaka-chan? Are you even listening?"
I blinked, my 'Idol Switch' flipping on instantly. It was Hina, a girl who sat in front of me. She was always trying to get my attention, mostly so she could take selfies with me.
"Sorry, Hina," I said, giving her that practiced, fake smile. "I was just thinking about the script for my next commercial. Did you say something?"
"I was asking about the School Festival!" Hina squealed, attracting the attention of half the class. "The agency confirmed your performance. A mini-concert right here in our gym! Is it true?"
My heart sank. The festival. I had forgotten that my manager, Mira-san, had signed the contract weeks ago. To the school, it was a grand event. To me, it was just another afternoon of wearing heavy makeup and forced smiles.
"I'll do my best to make it a great show, Hina," I replied, my voice sounding hollow.
When the lunch bell rang, I waited for the hallway to clear, then made my way to the rooftop. I needed to breathe. But when I pushed the heavy metal door open, I realized someone had beaten me to it. Arata was sitting on a rusted bench, his sketchbook open, his pencil moving with a rhythmic scratching sound.
"You're going to get caught," I said, walking toward him. "The rooftop is off-limits during lunch."
Arata didn't stop drawing. "Then you're in trouble too, Sayaka-san."
"I have a 'sick' pass," I lied, leaning against the railing next to him.
He finally closed his sketchbook and looked at me. "I found the hoodie you left on the bed," he said quietly, his voice almost getting lost in the wind. "I've already washed it, so you don't have to worry about the mess."
I felt a small, genuine smile touch my lips. "Thank you, Arata-kun."
"So," he continued, "I heard 'The Nation's Little Sister' is performing at the gym? The whole school is buzzing like a beehive."
I sighed, looking out at the city skyline. "I hate it. Sometimes I wish I could just... disappear."
"You did disappear," Arata reminded me. "Two nights ago. You were just a girl who couldn't cook porridge. Why go back to being a doll?"
"Because the doll pays the bills, Arata," I whispered. "Do you think I'm fake?"
Arata looked at me for a long moment. "I think everyone is fake. But the girl who left that note on my desk... she felt real enough."
Suddenly, the rooftop door slammed open. "Sayaka-chan! There you are!" It was Hina again. "Mira-san is at the front gate! You have a radio interview in twenty minutes!"
The mask snapped back on. I stood up straight and smiled. "Oh! Is it that time already? Thank you for finding me, Hina!"
I started walking toward them, but for a split second, I looked back at Arata. He hadn't moved. He was back to being a ghost, and I was back to being a star.