Chapter 6: I Think My Heart Skipped Class
Yumi didn't know how to concentrate anymore.
It was Monday. The sky was too bright. The school bell sounded too cheerful. Her math teacher's voice droned on like a hypnotist trying to kill her with decimals.
Why does the Pythagorean theorem feel like an attack on my emotional stability?
Her eyes drifted toward the back of the class.
Akiro sat in his usual corner — hoodie up, head down, pencil tapping faintly. No one bothered him. No one even tried. He was his own forcefield.
But occasionally, he looked up.
And when he did… he looked only at her.
She caught his eyes for a second too long.
Her stomach flipped like a desk being kicked over.
This is bad, she thought. I'm turning into a YA protagonist.
After class, Reiko cornered her at the shoe lockers.
"So," Reiko said, arms crossed. "You've been weird all day."
"I'm fine."
"You smiled during math class."
"I was thinking about cats."
"You were thinking about him."
Yumi blushed furiously. "That is an unproven accusation."
Reiko raised a brow. "I saw you staring."
Yumi shoved her locker shut. "I wasn't staring. I was just… appreciating the angle of his hoodie."
Reiko leaned in. "Are you seriously falling for him?"
Yumi hesitated.
Then whispered, "…I already did."
Reiko's face softened — for once not teasing, not judgmental. Just… surprised.
"Yumichan," she said gently, "you know people are going to talk. Worse than last time."
"I know."
"They'll make fun of you."
"I can take it."
"They'll make fun of him, too."
Yumi's jaw clenched. "Then they'll have to go through me."
Reiko was quiet.
Then she said something Yumi didn't expect:
"…He better not break you."
That afternoon, Yumi waited by the school gates, heart stuttering, fingers fidgeting with her phone case.
Akiro appeared as usual — like a shadow, like a secret the sun couldn't touch. His bag slung low, his hood up.
He stopped when he saw her.
"Hey," she said, a little breathless.
"…You okay?"
She nodded. "Wanna walk home?"
A pause. Then, softly: "…Yeah."
They didn't hold hands.
They didn't speak much.
But they walked side by side like it meant something.
And when they reached the street where she had to turn, she hesitated.
"I'm glad you came that day," she said. "When I was stuck in the rain."
He looked at her, hoodie swaying slightly in the breeze.
"…I wasn't going to."
"But you did."
"Yeah."
A beat.
Then he muttered:
"Because you looked like you wanted someone to notice you."
Yumi blinked.
That was it. That was the line that cracked her heart open like glass.
She stepped forward and, without thinking, kissed his cheek.
Quick. Soft. Barely there.
Akiro froze.
So did she.
"…That was stupid," she mumbled.
He didn't move.
Then, slowly — almost inaudibly — he said:
"No. It wasn't."
Neither of them said anything else.
But that night, Akiro couldn't sleep.
Because for the first time in years, someone's lips had touched his scars like they weren't supposed to flinch.
And that... terrified him.