I'm Takano Haruko. A sixteen years old high schooler, and if I'm being honest…I'm not someone peoples' notice unless they want to hurt me.
I live in a small apartment with my mother. It's just the two of us. She works long hours, comes home tired, and still asks me if I've eaten. She tells me I can be anything I want as long as I don't give up. I believe her. I think I have to.
She had me by accident, but she never once made me feel like I was a mistake.
My father doesn't exist in my life. There was an accident, that's all I know. It's never been something I asked about. Some doors don't need to be opened to know there's nothing behind them.
School, on the other hand, is a door I'm forced to open every day.
I get bullied. Not the dramatic kind you see in movies. No punches, no teachers rushing in. Just whispers, laughter, phones pointed at me when they think I'm not looking. Girls who smile sweetly and then trip me "by accident." Words that stick to my skin longer than bruises ever could.
I don't have friends. Not because I don't want them. I just… don't know how to exist loudly enough to be chosen.
So, I learned how to disappear.
Every lunch break, I go to the school backyard. It's quiet there. The trees are old, and the benches are cracked, but no one bothers me. I open my laptop, put on my headphones, even if nothing is playing. And I write.
Stories are the only place where I'm not weak.
Where people listen when I speak.
I write about things I'm scared of and things I wish were kinder. I write about lives that aren't mine. I write because if I stop, the silence gets too loud.
That day felt normal. Painfully normal.
I thought it would end like every other day.
I didn't know it was the last time my life would be simple.
But one day, something changed.
But one day, the quiet didn't last.
I was in the school backyard like always, sitting on the same cracked bench, my laptop balanced on my knees. My fingers moved without thinking, chasing a sentence I almost liked. The wind was gentle. For a moment, I forgot where I was.
Then shadows fell over the screen.
"Wow, she's really writing again."
I froze.
Before I could react, hands grabbed my laptop and yanked it away. I stood up too fast, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"Please—give it back," I said. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "It's mine."
One of the girls laughed, flipping my laptop open.
"Relax. We're just curious."
They read out loud, badly. On purpose. Twisting my words, mocking the parts that mattered the most. Another girl took out her phone, pretending to record.
"So cringe," she said. "You really think you can be a writer?"
My face burned. I reached for the laptop, but someone shoved me back. I didn't fall—just enough to remind me how weak I was.
I was about to apologize.
I don't know why I always do that.
"Give it back."
The voice was calm. Clear. Adult.
A hand snatched the laptop away from the girls so fast I barely saw it happen.
The girls turned, startled. Standing behind them was a tall woman with long white hair, her expression gentle but firm. She held my laptop against her chest like it was something important.
"You don't have permission to touch other people's belongings," she said lightly. "And bullying a student? That's very embarrassing behavior."
The girls started talking over each other, suddenly defensive.
"We were just joking—"
"She's weird anyway—"
"Enough," the woman said, still smiling. "Leave. Now. Right this instance"
Something about her tone made them hesitate. Then they clicked their tongues, muttered insults, and walked away, throwing looks over their shoulders.
The silence afterward felt unreal.
The woman turned to me and held out my laptop.
"You okay?"
I nodded, even though my hands were shaking when I took it back.
"Th-thank you."
She crouched slightly to look at the screen, eyes lighting up.
"You're writing a novel?"
I blinked.
"Y-Yes. I mean—kind of."
"That's amazing!" she said, way too cheerfully for someone who'd just scared off bullies. "I'm Miyahira Naoko. I'm a new teacher here."
A teacher…?
She pointed at the screen.
"May I?"
I hesitated, then nodded.
She read quietly, her eyes moving fast. Not judging. Not mocking. Then she smiled.
"You're good. You just hesitate too much in your wording."
She tapped the keyboard gently, changing a few lines.
"See? Same meaning. Stronger voice."
I stared at the screen. She was right.
For the first time, someone didn't laugh at my writing.
They saw it.
Naoko smiled at me like we'd known each other for years.
"I'd love to read more. If that's okay."
I didn't know then that this moment, this kindness was the beginning of everything.
Later That Week
Naoko started meeting me more often after that day. Not in a strange way. Just small moments. After class. During breaks. Like she was checking in on me.
One afternoon, she sat beside me in the backyard, legs crossed, humming to herself while I typed.
"You always come here," she said casually. "Is it because of them?"
My fingers slowed. I didn't need to ask who they were.
"…Yeah," I admitted. "It's quieter."
She tilted her head, blue eyes soft.
"Do they hurt you?"
I shook my head quickly.
"No. I mean—not like that. They just… say things. Take my stuff sometimes. Laugh."
Naoko sighed, like she was genuinely annoyed on my behalf.
"That's still hurting you."
I stared at my screen.
"I'm used to it."
She looked at me then. Really looked. Her smile faded just a little.
"You shouldn't have to be."
She tapped her finger against the bench, thinking.
"If I talked to the school, we could change your class. New environment. New people."
My heart jumped.
"R-Really?"
"Of course," she said cheerfully again. "You're not the problem here, Haruko. You just got stuck in the wrong place."
Wrong place.
The words echoed in my head longer than they should have.
"I don't want to cause trouble," I said quietly.
Naoko laughed.
"Oh, trouble already exists. All we're doing is moving you away from it."
She stood up and stretched. "I'll handle it. Trust me."
Trust.
That word felt heavy, but warm at the same time.
For the first time, I imagined a version of school where I didn't flinch every time someone walked past me. A place where I could sit, write, breathe.
Naoko smiled down at me.
"Things are going to change."
I smiled back.
I didn't realize then that change isn't always gentle.
Sometimes, it's violent.
A Few Weeks Later
A few weeks passed.
The bullying didn't stop completely. The whispers were still there. The looks. The laughs that followed me down the hallway. Even when nothing happened, I could feel it, like eyes pressing into my back.
But something did change.
One morning, my homeroom teacher called my name and told me to pack my things. My heart dropped until I heard the words class transfer.
When I walked into the new classroom, my breath caught.
Naoko stood at the front.
She smiled when she saw me, like this was all going exactly as planned.
"Everyone," she said brightly, "this is Takano Haruko. She'll be joining us from today on. Please be kind."
The classroom was quieter than I expected. Curious, but not cruel.
I took a seat near the window, hands clenched in my lap.
During break, Naoko walked over with a small group of students.
"Perfect timing," she said. "I wanted you all to meet."
"This is Mura Etsuko," she said first. Etsuko smiled warmly at me, eyes sharp in a protective way.
"Nice to meet you, Haruko."
Then came the boys.
"Fukumoto Toshio," Naoko continued. He grinned instantly.
"Hey! Don't worry, you're safe here."
"Kure Yori," she said next. He nodded politely.
"If you need help with anything, just ask."
"And this is Sekiguchi Kei," Naoko finished.
Kei leaned forward.
"Welcome to the least serious class in the school."
I laughed before I could stop myself.
Something loosened in my chest.
Days turned into weeks. Lunch together. Walking home together. Studying. Talking about stupid things and serious ones. They didn't ask why I transferred. They didn't push. They just… accepted me.
Etsuko walked beside me like she'd always been there. Toshio carried my bag when it got heavy. Yori helped me with homework. Kei made sure there was never silence.
For the first time, school didn't feel like a battlefield.
It felt like a place I belonged.
Sometimes, I'd catch Naoko watching us from the front of the room, smiling softly. Like she was proud of what she'd done.
I thought I finally understood what happiness felt like.
I didn't know it yet, but happiness like safety can be temporary.
But one day something changed
It happened on an ordinary afternoon, right before the last bell rang.
Naoko clapped her hands lightly to get everyone's attention.
"Before you all leave," she said, smiling, "I have something to ask."
The room quieted.
"It's my birthday this weekend," she continued, almost casually. "I don't really have anyone to celebrate with, so… I was wondering if you'd like to come over."
For a second, no one spoke.
Then Kei's hand shot up.
"Is there cake?"
Naoko laughed.
"Of course!"
"Then I'm in," he said instantly.
Toshio nodded.
"Yeah, sure. Sounds fun."
Etsuko smiled.
"I'd love to come."
Yori adjusted his glasses.
"Thank you for inviting us."
Naoko's eyes softened, just a little.
"Good! Then it's settled!"
I watched her as the bell rang. For the first time since I'd known her, she looked… almost nervous. Like she wasn't used to asking people for anything.
After school, the five of us gathered near the gate, talking excitedly.
"We should do something special," Kei said. "She's always helping everyone."
"A surprise," Etsuko added. "She deserves it."
Toshio grinned.
"Yeah! Decorations! Gifts!"
I listened quietly, a thought forming in my head.
Naoko said she had no one else.
No family. No friends.
If she was hosting the party herself, that meant she'd have to prepare everything alone.
That night, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
The next morning, I found Naoko in the hallway before class.
"Um… Naoko-sensei?" I said softly.
She turned, smiling as usual.
"Yes?"
"I was thinking… since it's your birthday, and you're inviting so many people… it might be hard to set everything up alone."
She tilted her head.
"And?"
"I could come early," I said quickly. "To help decorate. If that's okay."
For a moment, she just looked at me.
Then she smiled wider. "That's very kind of you, Haruko. I'd appreciate that."
The word kind made my chest warm.
So on the day of the party, I arrived early.
The house was quiet. Too quiet. I stood at the door with a small bag of decorations, heart pounding—not from fear, but from excitement.
I wanted to help her.
She had helped me so much.
I raised my hand and knocked.
I didn't know that this was the moment everything would change.
But that day, something else felt off.
The girl who always led the bullying wasn't at school. Not in class. Not during lunch. Not even lingering in the halls like she usually did. She had never skipped school before, and the absence felt louder than any insult she'd ever thrown at me.
I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself I shouldn't care.
Still, as I walked toward Naoko-sensei's house and now I'm here anyways, but the thought followed me, quiet, persistent, and unanswered.
I stood in front of Naoko-sensei's house with a small bag of decorations hanging from my hand, the plastic cutting lightly into my fingers.
The door was open.
Not wide, just enough to notice. Just enough to feel wrong.
I stared at it for a second, my brain refusing to catch up. Naoko-sensei was careful. Neat. The kind of person who double-checked things. She wouldn't leave her door like this.
"Naoko-sensei?" I called out, my voice hesitant, unsure if I should even be there yet.
No answer.
I leaned forward slightly, peering into the narrow gap. The inside was dim, the curtains drawn, the air heavy and still.
"Are you here?" I asked again. "Can I come in?"
The silence stretched.
Then—
A scream.
It tore through the house, sharp and desperate, a girl's voice cracking in pure terror. It cut off abruptly, like something had crushed the sound out of it.
My heart slammed into my ribs.
"Naoko-sensei!" I shouted, panic rushing up my throat.
For a split second, I convinced myself it was her. That she was hurt. That something terrible had happened and she needed help.
I pushed the door open and rushed inside.
The smell hit me first.
Metallic. Thick. Sweet and rotten at the same time.
My foot slid forward as I stepped in.
I looked down.
Blood.
Not splattered. Not dramatic. Just dragged—long, uneven streaks across the floor, as if someone had been pulled away while fighting to stay.
My breath came out in short, uneven gasps.
On the walls, handprints.
Bloody. Smudged. Fingers stretched wide, slipping downward like the person who made them had been losing strength with every step.
My stomach twisted violently.
I followed the trail down the hallway without meaning to. My body moved before my mind could stop it.
Each step felt louder than the last.
At the end of the hall was a door. Closed. Dark stains pooled beneath it.
Every instinct screamed at me to run.
Instead, my eyes landed on a metal bat leaning against the wall. I grabbed it, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped it. The cold weight of it barely grounded me.
I swallowed hard and raised it slightly, my arms weak, my knees trembling.
Slowly. Too slowly. I reached for the doorknob.
It turned easily.
The door opened.
Inside the room, blood covered the floor.
The girl lay there…her body twisted, her face frozen in terror. The bully. The one who had always laughed at me. The one who had vanished from school that day.
Standing over her was…
Naoko-sensei.