My name is Mei Aihara. I'm 18 years old and a second-year student at Sakura High School. Every day, I walk through the school gates with my head down, hoping to go unnoticed. It's not that I dislike people; it's just that they seem to dislike me.
I've always been alone. In class, during lunch, even during group activities, I'm the one left out. The girls in my class treat me like I'm invisible at best and a target at worst. They whisper behind my back, giggle when I pass by, and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide their disdain.
The ticking of the kitchen clock was the only sound in the house.
Mei sat at the small wooden table, a single bowl of miso soup in front of her. The steam curled upward, faint and fleeting, just like her appetite.
She stirred the soup absentmindedly, the spoon barely making a ripple. Her rice sat untouched, already cooling in the bowl beside it.
Outside, the evening sun was beginning to fade, casting soft orange light through the kitchen window. Dust particles floated in the air, glowing like tiny fireflies—but even they felt distant.
She glanced at the two empty chairs across from her. One had always belonged to her mother. The other… had never been filled.
"…I'm also alone at home," she murmured to no one in particular.
Her voice sounded strange—like it belonged to someone else. Someone far away.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips.
She picked up her spoon and forced herself to take a bite. The soup was warm, but it didn't reach her heart.
Being alone at school was one thing.
But being alone at home—where silence wrapped around her like a second skin—was something else entirely.
Is this how it's always going to be?
She stared into her bowl, hoping for an answer, but it gave her none.
Just the soft sound of ticking, and the taste of quiet tears hidden behind every bite.
I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment. Maybe it's because I'm quiet, or because I don't wear the latest fashion, or because I prefer books over gossip. Whatever the reason, I've become the school's outcast.
But amidst this loneliness, there's one person who brings a flicker of light into my life: Riku Yamada.
Riku is the epitome of popularity. Tall, athletic, with a smile that could melt hearts. He's the star of the basketball team, excels in academics, and comes from a wealthy family. All the girls adore him, and the boys want to be him. He's always surrounded by friends, laughter, and admiration.
I've never spoken to him. Not once. But every day, I find myself stealing glances in his direction. Watching him laugh with his friends, seeing the way he moves with confidence, it's like observing a world I can never be a part of.
I know it's foolish to harbor feelings for someone so out of reach. Someone who probably doesn't even know I exist. But I can't help it. My heart races whenever he's near, and I find myself daydreaming about what it would be like if he noticed me.
Sometimes, I imagine scenarios where we bump into each other in the hallway, and he helps me pick up my books. Or where we get paired up for a class project, and he discovers that I'm not just the quiet girl in the corner. These fantasies are my escape from the harsh reality of my daily life.
One day, during lunch, I sat alone under the cherry blossom tree in the school courtyard. The petals danced in the wind, creating a pink snowfall around me. I opened my notebook and began to write, pouring my feelings onto the pages.
"Dear Riku,
I know you'll never read this, but I need to express what's in my heart. Watching you from afar brings me joy, even if it's bittersweet. Your smile brightens my darkest days, and your laughter is the melody that soothes my soul. I wish I had the courage to talk to you, to let you know how I feel. But for now, I'll keep these feelings hidden, locked away in the pages of this notebook."
As I finished writing, a shadow fell over my notebook. I looked up, startled, to see Riku standing there, holding a basketball.
"Hey," he said, flashing that signature smile. "Mind if I sit here?"
My heart stopped. I nodded, unable to find my voice.
He sat down beside me, wiping sweat from his brow. "Practice was intense today. Coach is really pushing us."
I managed a small smile, still in shock.
He glanced at my notebook. "You write?"
I quickly closed it, blushing. "Just... thoughts."
He nodded. "That's cool. I think it's great to have an outlet."
We sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being the rustling of leaves.
"You know," he began, "I've seen you around. You're always by yourself."
I looked down, embarrassed. "I guess I'm not very good at making friends."
He tilted his head. "Maybe people just don't take the time to get to know you."
I looked up, meeting his eyes. For the first time, I saw something genuine there. Not the charming facade he showed everyone else, but a glimpse of sincerity.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He smiled. "Anytime."
As he stood up to leave, he turned to me. "See you around, Mei."
He knew my name.
As he walked away, I clutched my notebook to my chest, a warmth spreading through me. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope.
One day after school, her hands trembling, Mei confessed her feelings.
"I… I really like you, Riku."
There was a long silence. He looked surprised—but then he smiled.
"I like you too," he said.
Her heart soared. For the first time, it felt like the world had color.
That night, he asked her to come to the park to talk alone. She went, full of hope. They sat on a bench beneath the stars. He held her hand. He kissed her.
But the next day, everything shattered.
Behind the school gym, Mei overheard him talking to another girl.
"Tch, don't take it seriously. She said she liked me, so I used it. Just needed someone for the night."
The girl laughed. "So you're done with her?"
"Yeah. She was just boring. I'm not wasting time on her again."
Mei froze.
Her hands trembled. Her throat burned. She ran home in silence, her heart breaking with each step. That night, she cried for hours, the same memory looping again and again: his warm hands, his fake smile, and the words—
"Just needed someone for the night."
And as tears stained her pillow, she whispered through broken sobs.
"Why did I believe you?"
The words slipped out in a broken whisper, soaked in the sound of her sobs.
Outside, the rain had started.
Soft. Cold.
It tapped against the windowpane like a slow, cruel lullaby echoing the ache in her chest.
Mei lay curled on her side, her face buried in the soaked fabric of her pillow.
Her arms clutched the notebook she once filled with hopeful words and dreamy confessions.
Now, every page felt like a knife.
Her phone lit up with a new message.
She hesitated before picking it up.
Riku Yamada:
Don't tell anyone about last night. You're not my type.
That was it.
No apology.
No guilt.
Just the cold detachment of someone who had never truly cared.
Mei's breath caught in her throat.
She stared at the screen for a long moment, then let the phone slip from her trembling fingers.
It fell with a soft thud to the floor.
She didn't pick it up.
That night, Mei didn't eat.
She didn't sleep.
She simply stared at the ceiling, hollow and hurting.
Why does it still hurt, even when it's already broken...?
Her mind kept circling the same thought—until another crept in, colder and more dangerous:
If only he could feel this pain... would he still be so cruel?
Then—
The room flickered.
A shimmer, like heat rising off pavement, danced in the air just above her chest.
Soft and silver, impossible and real.
Mei blinked.
Her body grew light. Her limbs numb.
The ceiling seemed to spin.
She tried to reach out—but the air felt like water.
Something pulled at her, gentle but undeniable.
Her vision faded, swallowed by silence.
And just before her consciousness slipped away, she heard her own voice whisper inside her mind—
Mei go in to shrine mei prey a god, "please god please I wish he could live my life for just one day..."