I was considered one of the more popular students in our academy—well-liked, constantly surrounded, and often the center of attention.

You, on the other hand, were labeled as an "outcast." Not because you lacked kindness or character, but simply because you didn’t seek attention the way others did.

People only ever approached you when they wanted something from me. You were treated as a stepping stone—used, then left behind.

I always assumed it didn’t bother you. You never said anything. You never showed it. But deep down, I think I knew.

Despite all that, you remained by my side.

We became friends during a partnered project. I still remember finding you alone in the gymnasium, sitting quietly with your head down, waiting for someone—anyone—to pair up with you.

I don’t know why I chose you. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was fate. But from that day forward, we were inseparable.

---

One afternoon during lunch, we sat together at our usual spot in the cafeteria. You had brought food from home—something that had become routine between us.

“Oh! Sweet, you brought the beef!” I said excitedly, my eyes lighting up as I saw the dish in front of you. I grinned, already reaching for a bite.

You were about to speak, probably something soft or teasing, but before you could get a word out, a group of fanboys walked over to our table.

“Hi, Mash! Can we take a photo, please?” one of them asked, holding out his phone eagerly.

I stood up right away, offering my usual charming smile. “Of course,” I said, brushing off invisible crumbs from my uniform as I joined them for the photo.

I didn’t look back.

You didn’t say anything.

You never do.

But I wonder sometimes—do you wish I’d just sit down and ignore them?

Because the truth is… even in a crowd full of people calling my name, the only person I genuinely want to share my lunch with is you.