(Kiyomi's POV)
By Tuesday morning, the air at school felt thinner — like every breath came with weight. The whispers hadn't stopped, but they'd changed tone. Less about laughter now, more about curiosity. About who was drifting away from whom. About who had changed.
I adjusted the strap of my bag and walked past the hallway where everything seemed to echo. Minato was waiting near the lockers, as usual, hands tucked in his pockets, that calm but alert look in his eyes.
Minato: Morning (He said softly, his gaze finding mine immediately).
Kiyomi: Morning (I smiled).
My smile was faint, but real.
Somehow, he always managed to pull that from me, even when things felt heavy.
Minato: You've been quiet lately (He said as we walked side by side). Still thinking about… how to fix everything?
I exhaled slowly.
Kiyomi: It's not just that. It's like… I can feel everyone slipping further apart. Hinata's not talking to Akio. Asahi seems distant. And Akio — he looks like he's fading into himself.
Minato's jaw tightened a little.
Minato: He brought a lot of that on himself.
Kiyomi: I know (I said softly). But that doesn't mean he deserves to feel alone.
Minato looked at me then, and for a second, something flickered behind his eyes — admiration mixed with something gentler.
Minato: You always try to fix people, Kiyomi.
Kiyomi: Someone has to.
We stopped by the courtyard. The breeze was cool, brushing against my hair. Minato turned toward me, lowering his voice.
Minato: And what about you? Who fixes you when you get tired?
My breath caught.
Kiyomi: I don't… I don't think about that.
Minato: You should (He said, his gaze unwavering). Because I do.
For a moment, the world went still between us.
I didn't say anything, but my heartbeat thrummed a little faster.
I could feel the meaning beneath his words.
I could feel the quiet care that had been there all along — unspoken, patient.
But before I could respond, the bell rang, and Minato smiled faintly, stepping back.
Minato: Come on. Let's not be late.
Across the classroom, Akio sat with his head lowered, pretending to copy notes. His notebook was blank.
(Akio's POV)
It had been days since Hinata really looked at me — really looked. Every attempt I'd made to talk to her ended with silence or a polite nod that felt like a wall.
I thought about that morning — the way she had smiled once when I made a dumb joke months ago. I thought about her laugh, her voice when she said my name. But now… it all felt distant. Like something I'd dreamed up.
When class ended, I waited near the stairs, hoping to catch her alone. But when she came out, she was walking with Asahi.
Her laughter was softer than usual — shy, almost nervous — but it was there. And Asahi, who rarely smiled, was smiling at her.
My stomach twisted. I looked away before they could see me.
Later, when the halls were quiet, I sat alone under the stairwell and muttered to myself,
Akio:(Muttering) I ruined it. All of it.
I thought about apologizing again, but what good were words when no one wanted to hear them anymore?
Still, a small part of me hoped — foolishly — that Kiyomi might still believe I could make things right.
(Hinata's POV)
That afternoon, Asahi and I sat together in the art room. I was tracing something on my sketchpad — a simple drawing of sunlight falling through leaves.
Asahi leaned against the wall, hands tucked into his sleeves, watching quietly.
Asahi: You've been sketching a lot lately (He said).
Hinata: It helps me think.
Asahi: About?
I hesitated, then said softly,
Hinata: About how things change. And how sometimes, even when we try to fix them, we end up breaking more.
Asahi nodded slowly.
Asahi: Yeah. But sometimes… things break so they can become something new.
I looked up at him.
Hinata: You really believe that?
He gave a small, almost self-deprecating laugh.
Asahi: I didn't. Not until recently.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, it was just the two of us — the silence heavy, but not uncomfortable. There was something raw in his expression, something that made my chest ache.
Hinata: Thank you (I said quietly).
Asahi: For what?
Hinata: For… staying.
He looked down, but his voice was barely a whisper.
Asahi: You don't know how long it's been since someone said that to me.
My hand tightened around my pencil.
Hinata: Then I'll say it again.
(Kiyomi's POV)
That evening, I stood on my balcony, phone in hand, looking at the unread group chat messages that had long gone silent.
I typed slowly:
"Kiyomi: Can we talk? All of us? Please. I miss how things used to be"
My thumb hovered over the send button.
Then, after a deep breath, I pressed it.
I didn't know if they'd reply, or if they were too far gone to fix what had cracked between them.
But as the city lights shimmered in the distance, I whispered to myself,
Kiyomi:(Whispering) Some things are worth trying for… even if they never go back to how they were.
And in the quiet, that small act — the courage to try — felt like the first step toward healing.