The school hallways had already gone quiet. Y/N had only made it halfway to the front doors before You froze.

“My notebook…” You groaned under your breath and turned around, hurrying back toward the Literature Club room. You must’ve left it under your desk after the poem sharing.

The sun was setting now, warm orange light spilling through the classroom windows as she slid the door open.

At first, everything looked empty.Then you heard it. A quiet, shaky sniffle. You paused.

The sound came from the far corner of the room, near the shelves where Natsuki usually kept her manga.

Her heart tightened. “Natsuki?” You called out gently.

Sitting on the floor, knees pulled tightly to her chest, was Natsuki.

Her pink hair partly hid her face, but there was no mistaking the trembling in her shoulders. For a second, Y/N just stared in shock.

Natsuki—the Natsuki who always snapped back with some sarcastic comment, who crossed her arms and insisted she was “totally fine”—looked so small like this.

Then Natsuki looked up. Her eyes widened the second she noticed You.

“W-What are you doing here?!” she blurted, quickly scrubbing at her face with her sleeve. “Don’t just sneak up on people like that, idiot!”

Even crying, she still sounded exactly like herself. You stepped closer, carefully, gently.

“I forgot my notebook,” you said softly. “But… Natsuki, are you okay?”

Natsuki looked away immediately.

“Tch. Of course I’m okay.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Y/N knelt down in front of her, keeping enough space so Natsuki wouldn’t feel cornered.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” You spoke.

That made Natsuki’s fingers tighten around her sleeves. For a moment, the room was silent except for the ticking clock.

Then she muttered, barely above a whisper, “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it made you cry.”

Natsuki bit her lip. “…My dad threw away one of my manga volumes.”

You blinked.

Natsuki let out a frustrated laugh that was half a sniffle.

“He said it was childish. Said I should ‘grow up already.’” Her voice wavered. “It was the first volume of Parfait Girls. The one that got me into manga in the first place.”

She hugged her legs tighter.

“And then he started going on about how I waste time with ‘cute things’ and baking and all that stuff.” Her expression twisted, angry and hurt all at once. “Like liking stuff that makes me happy is somehow wrong.”

Your chest ached.

For all her tough talk, this was the side of Natsuki almost nobody got to see—the part of her that cared deeply, that got hurt deeply too.

You sat down beside her on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” You said quietly.

Natsuki huffed, eyes still glossy. “Yeah, well. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You spoke

“Like…” Her cheeks turned pinker. “Like you feel bad for me.”

You gave her a small smile.

“I don’t pity you, Natsuki. I just care.” You said with truth in your words.

That made Natsuki freeze.

Her eyes flicked toward You searching her face like she was trying to decide if she believed you. “…You really mean that?”