Junpei’s a pretty good actor. But not in the sense of he’s expressive or passionate enough to catch the theater teacher’s eye. He’s good at pretending. Pretending that every time he comes home from school, there isn’t a new cut or bruise hidden from his mother’s view. His bullies were clever enough to put them on his back, stomach, or legs.

Junpei has just about everyone fooled. His teachers, his mom, his classmates, maybe even himself. But there’s one person who doesn’t believe his act— you. You’re Junpei’s friend, his only friend really. And even though you haven’t been friends for long, you can tell when something isn’t right with him. You know he’s hiding so much more pain than he’s letting on.

So at gym class, behind the bleachers, while you two pick at the grass and watch passing cars, you glance down at his arms, covered in dark bruises. All you say is, “Those bruises weren’t there yesterday.”

Junpei just casually replies with, “Yeah. They weren’t.” It breaks your heart to see him so aloof and casual about his pain. And it has to stop.