(Kiyomi's POV)
Monday mornings always smelled like chalk dust and nerves.
But this one… it smelled like tension.
The moment I stepped into Class 2A, the room fell quieter than usual.
Not silent — just filled with the kind of hush that meant everyone already knew something.
I could feel the stares before I even reached my seat.
And then I saw it — something resting neatly on my desk.
A small yellow origami flower.
My breath caught.
I recognized that color instantly — the same shade as the hairband I'd worn at the art fair.
Tucked beneath one of the petals was a folded note.
I glanced around quickly — Minato was sitting two rows away, pretending to read, his face calm but his fingers slightly fidgeting.
I unfolded the paper.
"Even sunlight casts shadows.
Don't let them make you forget the light."
My chest softened.
He had no idea how much I needed those words.
For a second, it was just me and the paper — the noise fading, the whispers dissolving.
But then, from the back of the class, I heard it again.
"See? He even left her a love note."
"Told you they're a thing."
"Poor Akio though… imagine watching that."
Laughter. Low. Mean.
It crawled under my skin like a burn I couldn't scratch.
I turned around sharply — and saw Akio.
He wasn't laughing.
Just sitting there, stiff, his jaw tight, pretending not to hear.
But the way the others glanced at him — I knew.
The gossip had come from him.
That same ache from Saturday returned — heavier, sharper.
I wanted to believe it wasn't true. That Akio, who used to defend me when people teased, wouldn't be the one to twist something so small into a rumor that now had a life of its own.
But the look on his face — guilt mixed with distance — said everything I didn't want to hear.
(Akio's POV)
The whispers wouldn't stop.
They clung to me like static.
I thought if I kept quiet, they'd move on — but instead, they turned into something worse.
Every time someone laughed, I felt it dig deeper.
And when Kiyomi turned in her seat, her eyes meeting mine — I couldn't hold her gaze.
Because deep down, I knew.
She already knew.
I didn't mean for it to spread that far.
It was just one careless line, said when I was frustrated — when Minato's name started coming up more than mine.
"You know he stayed at her place, right?"
That's all I said.
But someone told someone else, and by Monday, it became "They couldn't sleep because they were thinking about each other."
Now it was too late to take it back.
And the worst part was… I didn't even know if I wanted to.
Because part of me still hated how easily Minato made her smile — a smile that used to be mine to cause.
(Hinata's POV)
The morning felt different — like everyone was walking on invisible glass.
Even Asahi was quiet.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at nothing in particular. When I nudged him, he gave a small half-smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Hinata: You okay?
Asahi: Yeah. Just thinking.
Hinata: About?
Asahi: …stuff.
He said it like it was nothing, but I could feel it — the same weight I felt.
Whatever had started between us last week, it wasn't something we could just laugh off anymore.
There was a shift — small but real.
And when he looked at me, really looked — it felt like he could see past everything I tried to hide.
Then, from the other side of the class, a murmur rose — sharp enough to cut through the air.
"Guess we know who the real lovebirds are."
"Minato and Kiyomi, huh? No wonder Akio's been quiet."
Asahi sighed, muttering under his breath,
Asahi: People can't mind their own business.
Then he looked over at Kiyomi — who was still staring down at the flower like it was both saving her and breaking her.
And I saw it then — the way Minato's eyes flicked to her, the way Akio's stayed glued to his desk.
All of them trapped in the same silence none of us wanted to break.
(Kiyomi's POV)
By lunch break, I couldn't take it anymore.
I found Akio standing by the stairwell, his hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at me.
Kiyomi: You told them, didn't you?
He froze.
Kiyomi: About that night. About what happened.
He turned to me, eyes wide, then looked away.
Akio: I didn't mean for it to get this far. I just…
Kiyomi:(Interrupting) You just what?
My voice cracked, soft but sharp.
Kiyomi: You wanted to hurt me? Or him?
He didn't answer.
The silence was enough.
I stepped closer, my heart pounding.
Kiyomi: You could've just talked to me, Akio. You didn't have to turn everyone against us.
For a second, his mask slipped — and the guilt in his eyes was raw.
Akio: I know. I messed up. I just— I didn't want to lose everything.
But the thing is… he already had.
I didn't yell. I didn't cry. I just nodded slowly, the kind of nod that meant I understand, but I can't forgive this — not yet.
Then I walked away.
That evening, Minato waited by the school gate, a quiet smile waiting for me like the day hadn't been heavy.
And when I saw him — standing there, sunlight catching on his hair — the world felt like it stopped judging for a second.
Minato: You saw the flower, right?
I smiled weakly.
Kiyomi: Yeah… I did. It was beautiful.
Minato: You deserve beautiful things, Kiyomi. Even when people try to take that away.
He said it so simply — and maybe that's what made it feel real.
For the first time all day, I felt something break free inside me.
Not the sadness.
Just the weight.
And even though everything around us was falling apart, somehow, standing next to him, I believed we could survive it.