The school didn't feel louder.
It felt heavier.
Hamikawa High had entered that strange phase before a major event where nothing dramatic happened outwardly, yet everyone walked as if something invisible had been placed on their shoulders.
The Sports Festival was close enough to smell.
Eadlyn felt it the moment he stepped through the gates.
Not excitement.
Not dread.
Expectation.
And expectation, he had learned, was the most exhausting emotion of all.
1. Morning Without Noise
The courtyard was full, yet oddly restrained.
Students talked, laughed, argued about team placements and schedules, but every conversation seemed to orbit the same invisible center.
Him.
Not because he wanted attention.
Not because he invited it.
But because people had seen something they hadn't expected.
The basketball match.
The way he hadn't taken the final shot.
The way he had changed the outcome without centering himself.
People didn't know how to categorize that.
And humans hated what they couldn't label.
Eadlyn walked past clusters of students without slowing his pace.
He heard fragments.
"Do you think he'll run relay?"
"He's probably carrying half the festival now."
"He doesn't even look tired…"
"That's what scares me."
He didn't react.
But something inside him tightened anyway.
2. Sayaka Notices First — Again
Sayaka stood near the bulletin board, pretending to review updated schedules.
Pretending.
Her eyes followed Eadlyn's reflection in the glass more than the paper in her hands.
He walked calmly.
Posture straight.
Expression neutral.
Too neutral.
She knew that look.
It wasn't confidence.
It wasn't ease.
It was containment.
She folded the schedule and approached him.
"You're being watched," she said quietly.
"I know."
"That's not what worries me."
He glanced at her then.
"They're not watching to learn," she continued."They're watching to decide what they can expect from you."
Eadlyn exhaled through his nose.
"Expectation again."
Sayaka's fingers tightened around the paper.
"When people decide what you are useful for," she said,"they stop asking whether you're okay with it."
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he asked, "How many requests did you get this morning?"
Sayaka paused.
"…Seventeen."
"How many did you accept?"
"…All of them."
There it was.
He didn't scold her.
Didn't comfort her.
He simply said, "Then we're walking the same edge today."
Her lips pressed together.
That wasn't reassurance.
It was acknowledgment.
And somehow, that felt heavier.
3. Manami's Injury Isn't the Problem
The gym smelled faintly of disinfectant and sweat.
Manami sat on the bench, ankle wrapped, posture straight despite the stiffness in her jaw.
Rin hovered nearby, pretending not to hover.
Ken stood with his arms crossed, silent.
Eadlyn entered last.
Manami looked up and smiled instantly.
Too instantly.
"I'm fine," she said before anyone asked.
Eadlyn crouched in front of her.
"Tell me what hurts," he said calmly.
She blinked.
"My ankle."
"Not physically."
Her smile faltered just a little.
"…Timing," she admitted."I hate the timing."
Rin looked away.
Manami clenched her hands."If I sit out now, people will think I'm unreliable. Or weak. Or—"
"—replaceable," Eadlyn finished.
Silence.
She nodded.
He didn't tell her to rest.
Didn't tell her to push.
Instead, he asked one question.
"If you run like this," he said quietly,"will you be proud of how you treated yourself afterward?"
Manami's breath caught.
Not because she didn't know the answer.
But because no one had ever framed it that way.
She swallowed.
"…No."
Eadlyn nodded once.
"Then the decision is already made."
Her eyes burned.
Not with shame.
With relief she hadn't allowed herself to want.
4. Ichigo Names the Pattern
Ichigo leaned against the doorway, tablet tucked under his arm.
"You're becoming a convergence point," he said flatly.
Eadlyn didn't turn.
"That sounds unhealthy."
"It is," Ichigo replied."Systems collapse when too many processes rely on a single stabilizer."
Eadlyn finally looked at him.
"And what do systems do when the stabilizer refuses?"
Ichigo adjusted his glasses.
"They adapt."
A pause.
"…Or they fail."
Sayaka overheard that.
Her fingers curled unconsciously.
5. The Thought He Doesn't Share
Later, alone on the stairwell between floors, Eadlyn sat with his elbows on his knees.
The noise of the school faded into background hum.
He stared at his hands.
So many people leaning.
So many needs intersecting.
So many moments where his calm had become a solution.
He didn't resent it.
That scared him more than resentment ever could.
Because somewhere deep inside, a thought stirred.
If I keep being this…Will there be anything left that's mine?
The bell rang.
He stood up.
Contained the thought.
Filed it away.
Like he always did.
But this time—
It didn't disappear.
6. Diary — Eadlyn
People think pressure arrives loudly.Shouting. Demanding. Breaking things.
They're wrong.
Pressure arrives quietly.It thanks you.It praises you.It asks politely.
And before you realize it,you've agreed to carry more than you ever chose.
Today, I didn't break.But I felt the weight settle.
I don't know yetwhether strength means carrying it…
Or knowing when to set it down.