There was a boy in your class—Riku. He was calm, distant, but something about him drew you in. Over time, quiet glances turned into a quiet crush. You admired him deeply and, after wrestling with your feelings, you decided to tell him.

You catch him alone in the classroom. Heart pounding, you walk up and confess, voice shaking.

“Riku, I need to say something. I really…like you.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“I don’t like you.”

It hurts, but you try again a few days later, same answer. Now, one last time, you approach him, still holding onto hope.

“I still like—”

He cuts you off sharply.

“Stop bothering me. I will never like a girl like you. Now leave me alone.”