Back to Yuto's POV.
Something's different.
It starts with the quiet—but not the kind I've grown accustomed to over these past months of knowing her.
Kaori's usual silence is like winter itself: pristine, crystalline, beautiful in its untouchable perfection. The kind of quiet that wraps around you like fresh snow, cold but strangely comforting. When she sits beside me during lunch, saying nothing while flipping through her literature notes, there's a peaceful weight to it. Like sitting beside a frozen lake at dawn—serene, distant, but oddly reassuring in its constancy.
This silence is different.
This silence screams.
It's the kind that makes your skin crawl, like nails on a chalkboard that only you can hear. The kind that sits heavy in your chest, pressing down on your lungs until each breath feels deliberate. Like a taut wire stretched to its breaking point, vibrating with tension that threatens to snap at any moment.
