(Kiyomi's POV)
Weekends used to mean freedom — lazy mornings, long calls with friends, the comfort of silence without the sound of bells.
But this one felt heavy.
Heavier than I wanted to admit.
I woke up Saturday morning to the sound of my phone buzzing.
A class group chat — messages flying, emojis, inside jokes.
But as I scrolled, my stomach turned.
"Sakura: I can't believe she really said, "I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about you"?
Rin: Wait wait—Kiyomi, is it TRUE??
Mina: The kitchen part too??"
I froze.
The words blurred together — sleep, kitchen, couldn't sleep, thinking about you.
My chest tightened.
Only three people could have possibly known about that.
Me, Minato, and Akio.
I locked my phone and threw it onto my bed, my mind spinning.
It wasn't like we'd done anything wrong — just a moment, a late-night conversation, a friendship that felt too real for gossip.
But in Class 2A, truth didn't matter as much as the story they could tell about it.
The day stretched endlessly.
I tried to focus — on cleaning, on music, on pretending it didn't matter — but the whispers wouldn't stop echoing in my head.
By evening, I couldn't take it anymore. I opened my notebook, hoping writing would help.
"It's weird how a single sentence can ruin how you breathe."
The pen hovered there for a while before I set it down.
I missed how simple things used to be — when our group still felt whole.
When Akio would joke too loudly, when Hinata would roll her eyes but still smile, when Asahi would act like he didn't care but secretly did.
Now everyone was different.
And maybe I was too.
Sunday afternoon
I found myself standing by my window, watching clouds drift by like they had nowhere better to be.
Then my phone buzzed again — this time, a message from Minato.
"Minato: Hey, are you okay?
Kiyomi: Depends. Are you gonna laugh if I say no?
Minato: Never."
A pause. Then another message came through.
"Minato: Don't let them get to you, okay? People just talk because they don't have anything real to hold on to."
I smiled a little. It was so him — calm, thoughtful, gentle in ways he didn't even realize.
But beneath his kindness, I sensed something else.
A quiet intention.
Like he was planning something, and I wasn't supposed to know yet.
(Minato's POV)
By Sunday night, my room was scattered with paper scraps, sketches, and a few folded origami flowers.
The yellow one was my favorite — the same color as Kiyomi's hairband from that day at the art fair.
Heh. She probably didn't even remember.
But I did.
I remembered everything — the way she laughed at her own paint smudge, the way she said, "You know, Minato, you think too much," like it was both a flaw and a compliment.
So yeah, I thought a lot.
Especially about her.
The class could say whatever they wanted, but I knew what really happened that night — nothing wrong.
Just two people who understood each other too well for the world's noise.
And that's why I wanted to remind her — with something that said, "I see you, no matter what they say."
So, I decided:
On Monday morning, she'd find the flower on her desk.
With a small folded note inside that read —
"Even sunlight casts shadows. Don't let them make you forget the light."
I folded the paper carefully, my heart beating faster than it should.
For once, I hoped Monday would come sooner.
(Kiyomi's POV)
That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling.
The voices of the class still looped in my mind —
"He stayed over."
"She was thinking about him."
"Maybe there's something between them."
And yet… I couldn't even be angry anymore.
Just tired.
Tired of everyone turning something pure into something dirty.
But what hurt most wasn't what they said — it was not knowing who said it first.
Because if it wasn't Minato…
then it had to be Asahi.
But what if it wasn't Asahi, because Hinata said he stood up for me.
Then... who could it be?
That thought stayed with me long after midnight — a quiet ache under the hum of the ceiling fan.
Monday morning would bring answers, but for now, I just waited.