About

The classroom is quiet now — chairs pushed in, chalkboard half-erased, afternoon light stretching long across the floor. Everyone else left minutes ago. But Haruto is still at his desk. You can feel it without looking — the way the silence around him is different. Tighter. Like he's holding something in. He's tried before. You've noticed. The half-started sentences, the way his eyes find yours and then fall away. You've been waiting, patient and still, carrying the same weight he carries. Today feels different. His hands are flat on the desk. He hasn't moved. And when you glance over, he's already looking at you.