My room looks like what every girl wants- warm lights, fluffy blankets, colorful walls, rows of cute plush toys. Pretty. Perfect.
But when I wake up, it just feels... empty.
The silence hits first. Not the peaceful kind, but the hollow kind that wraps around your chest.
I check my phone. 6:00 A.M. Hundreds of notifications, likes, comments, and messages. All from people who love my outer version.
"Hika-chan, you're always killing it!!"
"Hey, are you single?"
"Your skin glows, teach me your ways!"
"Hmph- talking about my outer beauty only," but I smiled, the smile I've practiced so many times to show. I reply to a few, give hearts to some, and ignore some.
Then I get up, walk to the bathroom to take a shower.
After that, I face the mirror and put on concealer, gloss, and lashes. Layer by layer, I build the outer version of Hikari that the world wants to see.
I smiled, but the girl behind the makeup looked tired and a little bit lonely.
School is loud the second I walk in, someone's calling my name, and another clings to me. Compliments fly at me like rockets.
"Where's your jacket from?"
"You look cute today."
"Let's take a selfie!"
"Which products do you use?
I smile. I laugh. I pose.
But even in the middle of all that noise, I feel it - that quiet pull at the edge of my thoughts.
Because I saw him again this morning, while I was being confessed by a boy, the 5th time this week, behind the school.
I, as always, rejected the confession and noticed him, crouched beside the fence, feeding a stray cat a half sandwich from his bento.
Yuuto Kurokawa
He's... different.
Not in the weird way, not creepy or antisocial. Just... distant like he is in a different world from us.
He didn't talk to the cat, didn't try to pet it. Just sat there still, as it came closer and took the food.
And when the cat took the food, he gave the faintest smile, barely visible.
He looked gentle and maybe a little lonely.
I stayed behind the corner and watched until he stood up, dusting off his pants, and walked off like it was nothing.
No one else saw him, but I did.
In class, he's always in the same seat, at last near the window. Bangs long enough to hide his eyes. He never raises his hand. Never speaks unless a teacher calls him.
And yet... I've started noticing things I never did.
Like how he opens the door for teachers even when they don't see him do it.
Or how he picks up trash in the hallway when he thinks no one's looking.
Once, I saw him help a junior who dropped her books. He didn't say anything—just helped her gather them and walked away before she could thank him.
It's the kind of kindness people miss because they're too busy looking at the loud ones.
But I see it.
I've been seeing it for a while now.
The first time I saw him, I noticed him, was on a rainy day.
School had ended, and I stayed late for a club meeting. By the time I left, the sky had gotten dark. I had forgotten my umbrella. Everyone else was gone.
I sprinted toward the bike shed, shoes soaked, and uniform clinging to my arms, and there he was, sitting alone, under the shed, reading a book.
Like the rain didn't bother him. Like the whole world was quiet around him.
I slowed, hesitated. He didn't look up right away. Just turned a page, then finally glanced over.
He didn't say anything.
But he shifted.
Made space beside him.
I sat down without a word. For a few minutes, we just listened to the rain.
No small talk. No stares.
Then, suddenly, he stood up. Opened his umbrella. Looked at the road for a second.
And handed it to me.
He didn't wait for me to say thank you or something.
He just walked off into the storm, hoodie up, head down.
That moment stuck in my mind.
People think I have everything. And maybe, I do. Followers, likes, friends, clothes, and style.
But no one ever really asks how I'm doing.
My parents are never home. My mom leaves note on the fridge that says "Proud of you!" with smiley faces. My dad texts "Take care" when he remembers.
I've learned to fill the silence with reels, music, and a fake smile.
But sometimes, late at night, when the lights are off and the makeup's gone, I think about him.
Yuuto Kurokawa.
A boy who doesn't need the world to see him.
Who still does kind things when no one watches.
Who sat with me in silence on a rainy day and handed me the only umbrella he had.
Who made me feel safe for the first time in a long time.
I caught myself doodling his name in the margin of my notes today.
Not hearts. Not "Mrs. Kurokawa" or anything stupid like that.
Just… his name. Because I wanted to remember the way it felt in my head.
I don't know what this is yet.
But I remember that moment clearly—when I turned during class and accidentally looked right into his eyes.
Just a glance.
I didn't smile. I didn't wave. I just blinked and looked away like nothing happened.
But the truth is...
I felt it.
That strange flutter in my chest.
Like my heart skipped forward just a little.
Like something in me paused.
It was stupid, probably. Just eye contact. He probably didn't think twice.
But I did.
And I've been thinking about it since.
Maybe... he saw me.
Not the version of me everyone else sees.
Just me.
And for some reason, I still don't fully understand…
I think I want to see him again.
Because for the first time in a long while...
Someone felt real.
To be continued...