The day starts off like any other—until it doesn't.
"Takahashi," our homeroom teacher says, flipping through a stack of papers, "can you grab the worksheets from 2-S3? They forgot to send them over."
Everything in me stops.
2-S3.Tachibana's class.
I want to say no. I really do. But instead, I nod like an idiot.
"…Sure."
I walk out with my heart in my throat, each step heavier than the last. Past the soccer field. Past the courtyard. Past every sane voice in my head telling me to turn back.
The second-year building feels like enemy territory. Like I'm trespassing somewhere sacred.
The classroom door to 2-S3 is cracked open. I slip inside.
A few students linger, chatting. No teacher. Just desks, sun-warmed windows, and the stack of worksheets waiting up front.
She's not here.
Relief hits me hard. I grab the papers fast, hoping to disappear before anything changes—
The door slides open behind me.
Footsteps.
I don't need to look. I already know.
Tachibana.
She walks in like a memory. Calm. Effortless. Like the world orbits her and not the other way around.
I stiffen.
She scans the room casually… then her eyes find mine.
A flicker of recognition. No fear. No anger. Just… something unreadable.
For a second, we just stare.
Then she exhales and walks right past me—like I'm nothing at all.
That should be my cue to leave.
But I don't.
"…Tachibana-san," I say, her name catching on my tongue like a bruise I've been avoiding.
She stops at her desk, back still turned.
"…What?"
"I wanted to apologize," I say. "For last year. For everything I did. For making you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."
She turns slowly, arms crossing. Her gaze pins me in place.
"It took you a year to say that?"
I nod. "I didn't know how."
She huffs a small laugh. Not cruel—just tired.
"You really are something, Takahashi."
She starts gathering her books. The moment feels like it's slipping away.
"Wait—Tachibana-san."
She pauses again.
"If you want to hit me… do it. If it'll make you feel better. If that's what it takes—"
The sound of the slap comes before the pain.
It's not hard. But it stings. My cheek burns. Not from the impact—from what it means.
She's shaking slightly. Not in anger. In frustration.
"Don't say stuff like that," she says, voice low but sharp. "You think that fixes anything? That hurting yourself makes it fair?"
"I just… wanted to make things right."
"Then stop asking to be punished like some kind of martyr," she mutters. "Apologizing isn't about self-pity."
"…Sorry."
She turns again, but before she reaches the door, she stops.
"You still hesitate," she says without looking back. "You did back then. And you still do now."
The truth of it stings more than the slap.
Then she walks out.
No dramatic pause. No final glance.
But just before the door closes behind her, she says—soft, almost too quiet:
"Next time… don't hide behind guilt. Just say what you really feel, Takahashi."
And then she's gone.
I'm left standing in silence, a stack of worksheets in my arms and a fire in my chest.
That wasn't forgiveness.
But it wasn't silence either.
And for the first time in a long time…
It felt real.
And maybe that's something
Later, back in class, I'm slumped over my desk, barely listening to the buzz around me. The sky outside is starting to fade orange. My hands still feel the phantom weight of those worksheets.
"I saw Rina."
Haruki nearly chokes on his drink. "What? Where?"
"In her classroom. The teacher sent me to pick up some worksheets, and she walked in."
He stares at me for a second, then smirks like he's just heard the punchline to the universe's joke.
"Man, the cosmos really has it out for you."
I groan and drop my head onto my arms. "She said I haven't changed. That I still hesitate."
He shrugs. "Well… I mean. She's kinda right."
I lift my head to glare at him. "Wow. Thanks."
"Hey, you want lies or the truth?"
"I want a break."
He kicks my foot lightly under the desk. "Look, you like her, right?"
I don't answer. I don't need to.
Haruki leans back in his chair, eyes thoughtful for once. "Then stop waiting for the 'right time.' Life's not a drama. You screw up, you fix it. That simple."
I frown. "It's not that easy."
"Yeah, no kidding. But standing still isn't gonna change anything either."
He's quiet after that. So am I.
We're sitting in that awkward silence between classes, with nothing but the sound of other students laughing, chatting—normal stuff. Stuff that feels miles away from where I am.
I already missed my first chance with Rina. And I might never be the guy who gets everything right.
But maybe I can be the guy who tries.
Maybe that's enough to start over.