Chapter 23

“No!” Yuki exclaims, but then relief floods her chest.

It’s not Dori.

Her classmate, Isamu, lies sprawled on the floor, his notebook and pens scattered across the tiles.

He groans softly, rubbing his knees with a pained grimace before looking up. His eyes meet Yuki’s wide, startled gaze.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a sheepish chuckle. Then he glances down and spots a jacket tangled around his foot.

He nudges it with his foot, scowling lightly. “Stupid thing.”

Yuki follows his gaze and freezes when she realizes it’s her jacket. A faint gasp slips out before she can stop it.

“Uh, that’s.. mine,” she mutters, her cheeks warming. “Sorry, I must’ve not hung it properly earlier..”

Isamu blinks at her.

“Oh, I see.. It’s okay.” He chuckles awkwardly and quickly brushes at the jacket where his foot had nudged it, before picking it up and hanging it neatly on the coat hook by the wall.

“Sorry for stepping on it.”

“It’s fine. And thanks.”

She turns her attention back to her notebook, tapping her pen lightly against the page, trying to focus on the words and formulas in front of her.

Isamu, after a brief pause, quietly moves to the table beside her. He sits down, spreading out his notes, glancing at her from time to time.

The quiet rustle of papers and tapping of pens makes Yuki pause for a heartbeat. A soft sense of familiarity washes over her.

She’s reminded of last year, when they used to study together almost every afternoon―the time when her grades had been at their peak. She remembers how they’d quiz each other, joke about mistakes, and push each other to do better, and how, in those moments, it sometimes felt like they were quietly catching feelings for one another.

He would compliment her, especially on her long hair, and she’d blush under his teasing.

Until Mei cut it.

The memory hits her sharply, still fresh in her mind.

The sound of the snipping, the laughter echoing off the tiles, her sobs as she begged them to stop, and the shaking of her hands as she tried to gather the fallen hair around her.

On top of that, Mei had forced her to tell Isamu that she didn’t have feelings for him, and that she had cut her hair herself, the very reason being to spite him―snipping off the long strands she knew he liked.

And if she didn’t obey, Mei had threatened to shave her bald and to send her grandma pictures of her like that, being a mess and beaten up, which would most likely give the old lady a heart attack.

Yuki knew she meant it. So she ended up doing exactly as told.

Isamu had looked at her that day, standing alone with him in the hallway, her short hair falling awkwardly around her head.

His eyes had widened slightly, and he had asked, confused, “What do you mean you did it because of me?”

Yuki forced herself to keep her emotions in check, swallowing the lump in her throat. She met his gaze with a blank stare, voice steady though cold.

“I know you like me.. ‘that way’.. but I don’t. And I don’t want you to like me either.”

Isamu’s frown deepened, the corners of his mouth twitching as if struggling to form words. His eyes, normally warm and easygoing, darkened slightly with confusion and a hint of hurt.

“You could just tell me..? Why’d you have to go this far?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Shaking his head slowly, he added, “Did the thought of me finding you beautiful.. bother you that much?“

Yuki’s eyes flickered toward his, wide and hesitant, a storm of guilt and regret swirling behind them. She opened her mouth, then quickly averted her gaze, staring at the floor, unable to meet his hurt expression.

Isamu’s shoulders slumped, a heavy sigh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair again.

“I see..”

He gave her one last, lingering look, a mixture of sorrow and resignation in his eyes, before turning on his heel and walking away, each step echoing softly in the empty hallway, leaving Yuki frozen in place.

The moment he disappeared around the corner, the dam inside her broke.

Her knees weakened, and she sank to the floor, clutching her chest as sobs ripped through her. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she buried her face in her trembling hands.

Every memory of their past laughter and shared study sessions came flooding back, mingling with the sharp sting of what could have been..

Since that day, Mei had seized every opportunity to grow closer to Isamu. She lingered by his side during group work and asked him to help her with assignments, slowly filling the space Yuki had once occupied―laughing and teasing him over homework, sharing snacks, and exchanging knowing glances.

As they spent more time together, their friendship grew into something deeper, eventually turning into a romantic relationship.

Yuki, witnessing it all, felt a sharp ache in her chest―yet alongside the pain, there was an unexpected relief.

Mei’s focus had shifted entirely to Isamu, leaving Yuki in peace; the bully was no longer constantly targeting her, no longer lurking to humiliate her or make her life miserable. She would still ask her to do her homework though, but that was all.

Yuki’s eyes flick up from her book, drawn almost instinctively to Isamu as he studies beside her.

He’s hunched over his notes, pen scratching across paper, completely focused.

Her eyes wander over him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the faint curve of his lips, his green eyes, and the light freckles dusting the bridge of his nose and cheeks.

Then her gaze drifts to a single lock of hair that stubbornly sticks out from his otherwise neat, orange strands. No matter how much he tries to smooth it down, it always rebels.

A small, nostalgic smile tugs at her lips as she remembers tugging at that very lock, teasing him about it, and laughing at the way he’d scrunch his nose and try to swat her hand away, half annoyed, half amused.

Yuki doesn’t realize that Isamu’s eyes have lifted from his notes, quietly watching her with a soft, unreadable expression.

After a few moments of silence, he clears his throat, the sound gentle but enough to startle her slightly.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while,” he says, his voice calm but curious. He tilts his head slightly, raising his eyebrows. “Do you want to say something?”

Yuki’s eyes widen, and her cheeks flush a deep shade of red.

“Ah, no..”

Her heart races, and she quickly looks down at her notes, fumbling with her pen as if it suddenly holds the answers to everything.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t realize I was looking at you. I was just lost in thought,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, twisting the pen nervously between her fingers.

He leans back just a little, still holding her gaze. “Are you sure?” he then asks, making her look up at him again.

He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, mumbling, “I mean.. I thought.. maybe you wanted to ask if we could study together or something.”

Yuki frowns.

“No, of course not. I’m not that shameless,” she quickly says, “Why would I even.. that’s.. I mean.. after the way I pushed you away..”

Her fingers tighten around her pen, the weight of past regrets pressing down.

Isamu falls silent, his pen resting on the desk. His shoulders slump slightly, and his eyes soften with a quiet, aching sadness.

“No, Yuki..” he mumbles, and before she can react, his hand reaches out and gently but firmly squeezes hers.

Yuki’s head snaps toward him, surprise flashing across her features as she instinctively tries to pull her hand back. But Isamu’s grip doesn’t waver; it’s firm yet gentle, grounding her in place.

As her eyes meet his, her initial instinct to resist falters, and she freezes. His expression is soft and pained.

“You didn’t do that.. You were manipulated,” he says.

Yuki swallows, a slight confused frown appearing on her face.

“What?”

“You lied,” he repeats. “About your hair, your feelings..” he sighs heavily. “Mei did it. Mei made you do it.”

Yuki’s eyes widen, a mixture of shock and a creeping ache washing over her. Her lips part slightly, but no words come out.

She swallows hard and her eyes start to tear up. “You knew?” she whispers, her voice trembling.

Isamu’s eyes soften even more, the pain in them deepening as he shakes his head slowly.

“I should have known.. but I only found out recently.” He bites his lip and his eyes drift downward, settling on their hands intertwined on the desk.

“Tsk, that b*tch..” He suddenly scowls and grits his teeth as he continues, “She told me about it a few days ago.. The day she was almost killed, to be specific.”

His gaze slowly lifts again, shifting with deliberate weight until it settles fully on Yuki.

His darkened, almost void-like eyes lock onto hers with a piercing intensity, unflinching and raw. The warmth and pain from before have vanished entirely as he adds, “..By me.”
 
 
TO BE CONTINUED..

Author’s note: in case there are still people who don’t know—I turn parts of this story into short comic reels, which you can find on my Instagram: yukimaqu