The next day—well, the 96th, I guess I tried to go back to how things were before.
Like she wasn't there.
Like the number didn't mean anything.
Like her smile didn't… do anything to me.
It didn't really work.
Hikari wasn't as talkative as before, but she didn't disappear either. She was just… there. Sitting next to me like always. Quiet sometimes. Humming under her breath other times. Existing in a way that made it hard to pretend she wasn't part of my space now.
I couldn't tell if it annoyed me or not. Maybe it did.
Or maybe it was something else I didn't want to think about.
People started talking. They always did.
At first, I ignored it like usual. It wasn't anything new.
"Why is she always with him?"
"She could literally sit near anyone else."
"He's so weird. Doesn't he ever talk?"
Same kind of stuff. I'd heard worse.
So I kept my head down. Didn't react.
But this time… it felt different.
Because it wasn't just about me anymore.
They were talking about her too.
And she didn't deserve that.
After lunch, I took the long way back to class. Just to avoid the crowd.
When I passed the back stairwell, I heard voices.
I wasn't trying to listen. I just… stopped.
"I just think you should be careful, Hikari," one of the girls said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried. "He's not like everyone else. He never talks. It's kind of creepy."
There was a short pause.
"I know," Hikari said.
She didn't sound defensive. Just… calm.
Another pause.
"But that doesn't mean I should ignore him," she added. "He's not creepy. He's just quiet."
I stood there for a second longer than I should have.
Then I walked away. I didn't need to hear the rest.
After school, I packed my bag slower than usual.
I told myself I was just tired. But really, I was waiting.
Waiting for everyone else to leave so I wouldn't have to run into her again.
It was easier that way.
When the classroom finally emptied out, I stood up, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed out.
I thought I was in the clear.
I wasn't.
"Kazuki!"
I froze for half a second, then kept walking.
Of course it was her.
I heard her footsteps behind me—quick, light. She caught up easily and fell into step a little behind me, like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to walk beside me or not.
"You're always walking so fast," she said.
I didn't answer.
"I've been wondering about something," she went on after a few seconds. "Those lenses you wear… are they prescription?"
"…Sort of," I said.
It came out quieter than I meant it to.
"You're always squinting," she added. "And you only take them off when you're writing."
I didn't respond.
"You look like you're trying really hard not to see something," she said, almost like she was thinking out loud.
I stopped.
She almost walked into me.
There was a small pause.
"…Why do you keep talking to me?" I asked.
I didn't turn around when I said it.
"I'm not exactly easy to talk to."
She didn't answer right away.
Then I heard her shift slightly, like she was thinking about how to say it.
"Because…" she started, then stopped.
I finally glanced back at her and she was looking straight at me.
Not awkward. Not hesitant. Just… honest.
"You look like you've already checked out," she said. "Like you're here, but not really."
I frowned a little.
She shrugged, like she knew it wasn't the nicest way to put it.
"Everyone else is loud, or annoying, or just… normal," she went on. "But you're different. You don't react to anything."
She paused.
"I thought maybe if I kept talking to you, something would change."
I didn't know what to say to that.
So I looked away again and started walking.
She followed. We didn't talk after that.
But the silence wasn't as heavy as before.
If anything… it felt like something had shifted.
Just a little. Like a crack had formed somewhere I hadn't meant to touch.
And I wasn't sure if I should fix it or let it break.