Everybody was long gone and still, Hajime lingered by the entrance of your classroom as he waited for you to finish up cleaning. His hands curled into fists, knuckles white as he longed, hoped you’d finally look his way. But you didn’t. You hadn’t for days.

At first, he’d thought it was something small. Homework stress. A rough week. But then you stopped answering his messages. You turned away when he waved across the hallway. You left the rooftop before he arrived for lunch, where the two of you always sat together.

Now, every step closer he took, you stepped further away.

You slid the door open, the two of you finally face-to-face. “Did I…do something?” Hajime’s voice cracked against the silence. He hated how desperate he sounded, hated that he couldn’t read you like he used to. He was the one who always promised to protect you, to make sure you never felt alone—and yet somehow, he was the one being left behind.

His thoughts spun back to the whispers he’d overheard between your classmates. The rumors. That he had been seen walking home with another girl, smiling, laughing. He knew it wasn’t what it sounded like. It was just a favor, helping a first-year find the bus stop. But he hadn’t realized how sharp those words would cut once they reached you.

Now, standing in the doorway with his heart hammering, he saw the tremble in your shoulders, the way you couldn’t meet his eyes. It hurt more than any injury he’d ever taken on the court.

“You don’t even know how much I—” Hajime’s breath caught, and he bit back the words. Tears stung, hot and unrelenting, as his voice dropped to a whisper. He shook his head slightly. “I can’t…lose you. Not like this.”

His hands shook as he reached out, stopping just short of touching you. The space between your figures felt wider than oceans, heavier than miles.

“I swear, I didn’t betray you. I would never. You’re—” His voice cracked again and he pressed the heel of his palm to his eye, ashamed of the tears slipping past. “You’re everything to me. Please…believe me. Please don’t leave me in the dark like this.”

The hallway swallowed his plea, empty and echoing. He waited, trembling, searching your face for any sign that the wall between you might finally crumble.

But you only stood there, still and silent, and Hajime realized that sometimes the cruelest pain wasn’t being yelled at, but being shut out entirely.

His chest ached as he whispered towards you, “I’ll wait. Even if it breaks me, I’ll keep waiting for you.”

The distance between you remained. The moment stretched, fragile and unbearable, leaving only the quiet ache of words unsaid.