It happened after school. Somewhere quiet, too quiet.
The sakura trees, those pale symbols of fleeting beauty, had begun to bloom again, their delicate petals caught in the breeze, untouched by the storm inside me. They seemed unaware of the chaos churning in my chest, unaware of the pain that clung to my every breath.
Shiori stood before me, her figure delicate and small against the backdrop of the schoolyard, hands trembling, her skirt clutched tightly as if holding onto her own composure. She was the kind of girl you could easily overlook, a good girl, kind and soft-spoken. We'd exchanged a few words, shared notes in class, a few brief smiles in passing. Nothing more, nothing less. So when she asked to meet, it felt innocent enough.
But I hadn't expected this.
"I like you, Riku-kun."
Her voice was a whisper, fragile, but each syllable hit me like a hammer, ringing louder than the world around us.
"I've liked you since the first semester. You're quiet…but kind. I just... wanted to tell you. Even if you don't feel the same."
Her words drifted off into the wind, carried away before I could even process them.
I should've felt something... surprise, maybe flattery, maybe even a quiet joy. But all that I could feel was guilt, a weight pressing down on my chest, suffocating me from the inside.
I bowed my head, the words slipping from my mouth like the remnants of a broken truth. "I'm sorry, Shiori. I can't return your feelings."
Her smile faltered, just slightly, but she nodded. Brave. Understanding. As if she'd already expected it.
"I figured," she said softly. "You always looked like you were somewhere else. Or thinking of someone else."
The sting of her words didn't register at first. But then it cut deep. Her words... innocent, truthful, struck me with the force of a truth I had been running from. Someone else.
I turned away before I could say more, before I could let her see how deeply those words had unsettled me. I walked home slowly, the fading sun casting everything in shades of orange and gray. The streets; familiar, comforting, felt foreign underfoot, like I was walking through a dream that didn't belong to me.
Someone else. Was that really what I was doing?
Was Aoi the reason I couldn't picture myself with anyone else?
The letter. Her eyes. The almost-kiss. Everything was starting to piece together, revealing something I had tried so hard to ignore.
Was this love?
I stopped in front of our house, staring at the door, unsure if I wanted to open it.
Because I was beginning to understand something. Something that frightened me to my core.
Shiori's confession wasn't just hers.
It was the catalyst for something deeper, something that I wasn't ready to face. Something that made me realize, my feelings for Aoi were no longer something I could push away. They were undeniable. And that terrified me.
Because the more I acknowledged it, the more I feared what it might mean for everything that had come before.
The weight of it was suffocating. The truth was too heavy to carry.