Chapter 71: Echoes of Unspoken Truths
The air in Hoshikawa had changed.
It wasn't the breeze or the season, but something deeper—a subtle, unshakable tension that hung between Naoto and the people closest to him. After the confession-like moment between Himari and Rika in the hospital, an emotional gravity had settled over the group. Conversations became slower, glances lingered too long, and moments that used to bring laughter now carried the weight of words left unsaid.
Naoto stood outside the school gates, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. The sky was brushed with soft oranges and violets, but the beauty of the scene didn't reach him. His mind churned.
"Naoto!"
He turned to see Souta running up to him, his usual energy slightly dulled.
"You coming? We're heading to Aiko's place to help her study for the makeup test. She's freaking out."
Naoto gave a small nod. "Yeah. I'll be there."
Souta paused. "You okay?"
Naoto hesitated. That question again. How many times had he been asked that in the past week? And how many times had he lied with a smile?
"Just tired," he muttered.
"Liar." Souta gave a weak chuckle. "But alright, see you there."
As his friend walked off, Naoto felt a hand gently slip into his.
Himari.
She didn't say anything at first. Her touch was enough.
"Do you regret it?" she asked quietly.
He turned to her, startled.
"Regret what?"
"Letting them in."
Naoto looked away. The others had become a part of his world in ways he hadn't expected. Rika, especially. And now, there was a strange storm brewing between them—something fragile and aching.
"No," he answered honestly. "But I didn't expect it to hurt like this."
Himari nodded, her gaze distant. "That's what happens when your heart opens."
They walked in silence toward Aiko's house, where laughter, light, and fragments of warmth waited. But as they crossed the river bridge, Naoto found himself staring at the water, the current moving faster than usual.
"Did something happen to you here?" Himari asked.
Naoto's fingers tightened around the rail. "This is where my dad used to bring me. When I was little. He'd sit here and talk to me about choices."
Himari waited.
"He said people think life is about choosing between right and wrong. But sometimes, it's about choosing what you can live with."
---
Flashback.
A young Naoto sits beside his father, swinging his legs over the edge.
"Dad, what if I make a mistake?"
His father chuckles, ruffling his hair. "You will. We all do. The question is—will you run from it, or will you face it and make it right?"
Naoto frowns. "What if I'm too scared?"
"Then be scared," his father replies. "But don't let that fear become your excuse."
---
Present.
The memory was old, but it still burned bright. Naoto clenched his jaw.
Himari noticed. "You're thinking about your father again."
"I miss him. I hate not knowing everything. Why we were chosen. Why it's me."
"You're not alone, Naoto. We're in this together."
When they arrived at Aiko's house, they were greeted by the familiar chaos of their small friend group. Aiko was pacing in the living room, waving flashcards in the air. Rika sat curled on the sofa with a book in her lap. Souta and Kazu were trying to make sense of a history chapter they clearly hadn't read.
But the moment Naoto stepped in, the room stilled—just for a second.
Rika's eyes met his, and the distance between them felt like a chasm.
He gave a slight nod. She returned it.
And the world started moving again.
"Alright, study party begins!" Aiko declared.
The night unfolded in notes, jokes, and snacks. But every now and then, Naoto would catch glimpses—Himari glancing at Rika, Rika pretending not to look at him, and the unspoken question still floating in the air:
Who really held his heart?
Later that night, as the group prepared to leave, Rika approached him at the door.
"Can we talk?"
He nodded, and they stepped outside into the night.
"I've been thinking," she began, arms crossed. "About everything. The hospital. What Himari said."
Naoto remained quiet.
"I know there's something between you two. I'm not stupid."
"Rika…"
"Let me finish," she said, her voice trembling. "You don't owe me anything. But I need to know… have I ever really mattered to you?"
He looked at her—this stubborn, proud, brilliant girl who had wormed her way into his heart without him realizing.
"You matter more than you know."
"Then why does it feel like I'm losing you?"
Naoto hesitated. "Because I'm lost, Rika. And I don't know who I'll be when I find my way back."
She stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then let me wait for you. Even if it hurts."
Naoto closed his eyes.
How had things gotten so complicated?
As they stood in the silence, the streetlamp casting a soft glow over them, neither spoke again. But something had shifted. The truth was still buried, but it had begun to echo—between words, between glances.
And in that echo, there was hope.
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