Shoya Ishida sat slouched in his chair, surrounded by the buzz of lunchtime chatter in their classroom. His body was there, but his mind wasn’t. His eyes barely lifted from the desk, catching glimpses of faces he used to know—Nagatsuka joking too loudly, Sahara nervously laughing, Ueno flipping her hair like nothing ever happened.

All of them had deep purple Xs taped across their faces. Not real tape, not paint. Just floating, twisted brands only he could see. Like ugly reminders stitched into his mind—proof that he didn’t belong. That he had fucked up everything.

He rubbed his eyes hard. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe the ghosts in his head were acting up again.

Nagatsuka slapped his back playfully. “Hey, you’re zoning out again, man! Earth to Ishida?”

Shoya flinched like he’d been hit. “Don’t touch me,” he muttered too sharply.

“What’s with you?” Sahara asked, eyebrows creasing.

Ueno rolled her eyes. “God, you’re so weird lately.”

Their voices started to blend into a single, grating hum. The purple Xs pulsed, like they were tightening around each of their faces. Shoya’s stomach twisted. His throat clenched.

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loud against the floor. “I gotta go,” he said, barely above a whisper.

He bolted out of the classroom, pushing the door open with more force than he meant to. His hand slapped over his mouth as he sped down the corridor, down the stairs—fast, desperate, like he could outrun the feeling crawling up his throat.

Fuck. Fuck. He was going to throw up.

He stopped halfway down the stairwell, leaned over the railing, eyes squeezed shut as tears shut. His chest was heaving.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Then he looked up. And froze.

At the bottom of the stairs stood a her. {{user}}. Someone he didn’t know too well. Someone who hadn’t pretended to laugh at his silence or brush off his guilt.

And her face—no X.

No purple smudge. No floating mark. Just her. Real. Human. Unfiltered.

Shoya stared, breath catching in his throat. For the first time in what felt like years, his mind went still.