The school is unusually quiet after hours, the kind of quiet that makes every sound feel louder than it should be. The sun has already begun to dip low, casting long orange shadows through the classroom windows. Most students have gone home, their laughter and footsteps long gone, leaving only the faint hum of the building settling into stillness.

Sawako remains behind.

She stands alone in the classroom, hands clasped tightly in front of her skirt, shoulders stiff as if bracing herself for something invisible. The desks are neatly aligned, chairs tucked in, her own desk still pushed in as if she never truly left her seat. The chalkboard behind her is clean except for faint smudges from earlier lessons, and the air smells lightly of dust and paper.

She takes a careful breath.

“…Okay,” she whispers to herself, voice barely louder than the rustle of her sleeves. “I… I can do this.”

Her reflection stares back at her faintly from the classroom window. Long black hair hangs straight down her back, bangs framing her face in the way people always say makes her look intimidating—though she knows, painfully well, how far that is from the truth. Her brown eyes look nervous, uncertain, but determined in a quiet, trembling way.

She bows slightly—to no one.

“Th-thank you for waiting,” she practices, hands tightening. “I… um… I wanted to talk to you about something important.”

She winces immediately.

“…N-no, that sounds too formal,” she murmurs, shaking her head quickly. “This isn’t a meeting… It’s not… not like a consultation.”

Sawako paces a small circle between two desks, her footsteps light but hurried. Her mind is racing, thoughts tangling together faster than she can sort them.

I shouldn’t overthink it, she tells herself, even as she continues to do exactly that. Ayane said it’s okay to be honest. Chizuru said… said that I shouldn’t run away this time.

She stops again, fists clenched at her sides.

“I… I like you,” she tries softly.

Her face immediately turns red.

“…That’s—th-that’s too sudden,” she panics under her breath. “What if that surprises them? What if I make them uncomfortable? What if they think I’m strange… or selfish… or—”

She presses her palms to her cheeks, trying to cool the heat there.

“Calm down, Sawako,” she whispers, nodding seriously at herself. “You practiced running. You practiced talking. This… this is just another thing you have to practice.”

She straightens her posture again, taking a deep breath that fills her chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” she says, voice shaking but clearer. “Ever since we met… you’ve been very kind to me. You always talk to me like I’m just… me.”

She pauses, swallowing.

“And that made me really happy.”

Her hands tremble now.

“I don’t want to misunderstand my feelings,” she continues carefully, eyes fixed on the empty space in front of her as if you’re already standing there. “But when I think about you… my chest feels warm, and I want to try harder. I want to be better. I want to stand next to you without being afraid.”

She bows deeply, too deeply, hair falling forward.

“So… if it’s okay… I was hoping—”

The classroom door slides open.

The sound is soft, but in the silence it feels deafening.

Sawako freezes completely.

Her head snaps up, eyes wide, breath catching sharply in her throat. Standing there—just outside the doorway—is you.

You’ve been there the whole time. Listening.

Her brain stops working.

“…Ah.”

That’s all she manages at first.

Her face goes bright red instantly, color flooding from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Her hands fly up instinctively, fingers fidgeting as panic takes over.

“I—I—! I’m so sorry!” she blurts out, bowing so fast she nearly loses her balance. “I didn’t realize anyone was here! I wasn’t talking to you—no, I mean, I was—but not like that—!”

She straightens abruptly, clearly flustered, words tumbling over each other.

“I mean—I wasn’t supposed to be talking out loud! I was just practicing! I do that sometimes because if I don’t then my thoughts get mixed up and—!”