Why?
Why did I hesitate?
Why did I feel even the slightest doubt?
After everything she did—why did my chest tighten when I saw her tears?
Am I really that weak?That vulnerable around girls?
Is my own softness going to devour me from within?
"Let bygones be bygones.""Forgive and let go."
Meaningless phrases.Empty words spoken by people who've never known what betrayal really feels like.
I exhaled sharply, forcing down the discomfort that swelled in my chest.I already told her. I was clear. I don't want to see her. I don't want her anywhere near me.
So why is she still here?
The Next Day
Even after I shoved her away, she kept following me.
She didn't speak.She didn't come too close.But her presence was always there—hovering just out of reach.Close enough to notice. Far enough to deny.
It was suffocating.
It was exhausting.
It was… frustrating.
But despite all that, I didn't yell.I didn't snap.Not yet.
Because part of me—no matter how much I hated it—needed to understand why.
Three Days Later
I'd had enough.
In the middle of the hallway, I stopped.Turned on my heel.So fast she nearly walked straight into me.
She froze. Took a half-step back.
But this time, I didn't let her disappear.
"What do you want from me?" My voice was sharper than I intended, somewhere between anger and sheer mental fatigue. "I told you to leave me alone. We already had this conversation. So why—why are you still following me?"
She clutched the strap of her bag, knuckles white.
"…Kazama-kun," she said softly. Then paused. Choosing her next words like each syllable might break her. "I know you don't want to see me. I get that. But…"
She looked up.
Her eyes—clear, focused.
"I care about you."
I let out a humorless scoff.
"Care about me?" I repeated, the words like iron in my mouth. "Now you care? After everything? After throwing me under the bus and walking away like it meant nothing?"
She winced—but didn't look away.
"I regret it."
I froze. Just slightly.
"I regret everything I did." Her hands shook, but her voice didn't. "I was weak. I was scared. And I made the worst possible decision. But… I'm not that girl anymore."
I wanted to laugh.Or scream.Or walk away and pretend I never heard any of it.
Regret doesn't fix anything.It doesn't take back the isolation, the whispers, the way people looked at me back then—as if I was something disgusting.
But instead of lashing out…I just stared at her.
She wasn't crying.She wasn't begging.
She was just… standing there.Honest. Quiet. Still.
I clicked my tongue and turned around.
"Do whatever you want," I muttered.
She didn't chase after me.She didn't call out.But she didn't vanish either.
A Week Later
She didn't try to talk to me again.Didn't force anything.
She just… lingered.
Never too close.Never too far.
There was no apology waiting in the air. No awkward expectations. Just a presence. A shadow of something once broken, unsure if it could be mended.
And strangely, I didn't tell her to leave.
I didn't ask why she stayed.
I didn't even look at her.
But she remained.
And maybe—just maybe—
I didn't mind it as much as I thought I would.
Youth is cruel.Unfair.Unforgiving.
It's full of things we'd rather erase.
But some people... no matter how hard we push them away—they don't leave.
And some part of us…doesn't want them to.