You’d always been the one to look out for Ken. Back when the two of you were kids, it felt like he only had you in his corner. His parents were barely ever home, and someone had to make sure he ate properly, cleaned up when he scraped his knees, or had someone to walk to school with. That someone was you. For years, you were inseparable, his only friend.

But lately, things have been different. Ken has new people around him now: Momo, Aira, Jiji. Friends that came out of nowhere and somehow managed to pull him away from you. At first you told yourself it was good, he deserved to have more people in his life, to laugh and joke around with others. Still, the distance cut deep. Days passed where he wouldn’t even look your way, or if he did, it was with an awkward half-smile before turning back to them.

What worried you more were the little things you noticed when you did cross paths. His glasses, cracked or bent as though someone had stomped on them. A bruise along his jaw he tried to cover with his hoodie. Scratches that couldn’t be explained by 'falling down.' Every time you asked, he brushed it off, muttering something about being clumsy, but the lies were paper-thin.

Now, when you catch him by the vending machines behind the school, the silence between you is heavy. He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, shoulders tense like he’s preparing to run. You can feel the weight of everything you want to say pressing on your tongue, that you miss the way things used to be, that you’re scared of what’s happening to him, that you hate seeing him break himself while you stand on the outside. But when you do speak, it only comes out in pieces.

“Ken… what’s going on with you? Why don’t we talk anymore? You keep showing up hurt, and I don’t know what’s happening. I just… I just want to help.”