Rose sat quietly in her noisy classroom, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns on her desk. The chatter of her classmates and the distant sound of chairs scraping against the floor barely registered in her mind. All she could think about was the request she had sent to Lonelygirl4556 the previous night. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the uneasiness twisting in her chest. Doubt gnawed at her, making her stomach churn with nervous anticipation.
Amanda, who had been watching her friend for the past few minutes, frowned. Rose was usually more talkative, but today, she seemed lost in thought, her expression tight with worry. Deciding she couldn't ignore it, Amanda leaned in and gently nudged Rose's arm.
Amanda: Hey, you look pretty down. Everything okay?
Rose blinked, snapping out of her thoughts, and turned toward her friend with a hesitant smile.
Rose: Uh… yeah. I'm fine. Just a little nervous, that's all.
Amanda: (raising an eyebrow) Nervous?
Rose took a deep breath before answering.
Rose: Remember that Lonelygirl4556 Twibbler account you recommended to me?
Amanda nodded.
Rose: (fidgeting with her thumbs) Well… I reached out to her. I asked if she could teach me how to add soul to my writing.
Amanda's eyes widened with excitement.
Amanda: That's amazing! (pauses) But… if that's what you did, why do you look so worried?
Rose dropped her gaze to her desk, her fingers still fidgeting. The longer she thought about it, the heavier the uncertainty felt pressing against her chest.
Rose: I'm scared she'll say no. I mean… I'm just some random stranger on the internet. What if she thinks I'm weird or up to no good? Or worse—what if she doesn't think she can help me? What if what I'm looking for is something she can't give me?
Amanda listened carefully, then shifted her seat closer to Rose. Without hesitation, she rested her head on Rose's shoulder, offering comfort in the simplest yet warmest way.
Amanda: Don't stress about it too much. Everything's going to be fine.
Rose sighed deeply but didn't say anything. Despite Amanda's reassurance, the feeling in her chest refused to ease. Still, she found solace in her friend's presence, hoping that maybe—just maybe—things would turn out okay after all.
*******
After finishing her morning routine—taking her prescribed medication, receiving her IV drip, and eating a light breakfast—Kana settled back into her hospital bed, her fingers idly scrolling through posts on Twibbler. The soft hum of medical equipment and the distant chatter of nurses in the hallway faded into the background as she lost herself in the endless stream of updates, jokes, and thoughts shared by strangers and friends alike.
At some point, her thumb hesitated over the message tab. Her eyes lingered on John's name, and for a brief moment, she considered sending him a text. Maybe just a simple "good morning" or a funny meme to brighten his day. But just as quickly as the thought came, she glanced at the time displayed on her phone screen—11:15 AM.
She sighed and let her hand drop slightly, resting the phone on her lap.
Kana: (to herself) He's probably having classes right now.
A small pang of loneliness settled in her chest, but she quickly brushed it aside. She didn't want to be a distraction, and besides, there was something oddly comforting in simply knowing he was out there, living his life beyond the sterile walls of her hospital room.
With a quiet exhale, she returned to scrolling, seeking solace in the digital world that had become her window to the outside.
******
Meanwhile, as the lesson carried on, John sat at his desk, gazing absentmindedly out the window. His old classroom had offered a breathtaking view of the school courtyard, where cherry blossom trees swayed gently in the breeze, their petals dancing in the wind. But now, in his new classroom, that picturesque sight had been replaced by the dull, gray concrete wall that encased the school premises. Still, he stared on, as if hoping to see something beyond the monotony of the barrier.
His mind drifted, replaying the events of the previous night. He recalled every detail—the conversations, the emotions, the weight of the words exchanged. But then, as he sifted through his memories, an unsettling realization struck him. His eyes widened slightly, his fingers tightening around the edge of his desk as regret settled in.
I forgot to text her...
The thought echoed in his mind like an accusation, and he instantly regretted it. His heart sank, knowing that his silence might have been misinterpreted.
Just as he was about to reach for his phone, a sharp thwack broke his train of thought. A small piece of chalk struck him squarely on the forehead, crumbling slightly upon impact.
John blinked in surprise, instinctively raising his hand to brush away the white dust. As he turned his head, his gaze met the sharp, disapproving eyes of his teacher—Mr. Alden—who stood at the front of the classroom, arms crossed. His expression was a blend of mild annoyance and authority.
The room had gone eerily silent. John could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on him, all his classmates watching intently, waiting for what would happen next.
John: (to himself) Great, it's a full house.
Mr. Alden let out a small huff before addressing him.
Mr Alden: Eyes forward, Mr. Wellman. Just because you have good grades doesn't mean you get to ignore my lesson.
John straightened in his seat, offering an apologetic nod.
John: I'm sorry sir.
His tone was respectful, but inside, he was cursing himself. He had hoped to remain invisible for the duration of class, but now he had drawn unwanted attention.
Satisfied with John's response, Mr. Alden turned back to the board, picking up a fresh piece of chalk and continuing his lecture. Slowly, the students also redirected their focus, the room once again filled with the sound of scratching pencils and the occasional cough.
All except Rachel.
*****
It was a few minutes past noon, signaling the start of break time at John's school. In the quiet solitude of her hospital room, Kana glanced at the wall clock, watching the seconds tick by. The soft beeping of medical monitors filled the air, blending with the slow drip of the IV attached to her arm. She sighed, shifting her gaze back to her phone.
Kana: (to herself) He should be free now right?
Her hands hovered over the screen hesitating for a moment before typing out a message. But then she stopped, asking herself another question. Was now really the right time?
Meanwhile, John sat alone in his classroom, having told Ivan and Joseph that he wanted to eat by himself today. After grabbing a simple meal from the school store, he settled into his seat and unwrapped his food. Yet, no matter how hungry he was, he found himself unable to eat properly. His mind kept drifting back to Rachel's words from earlier that day.
"John, I love you."
Her confession echoed in his head, looping endlessly like a song he couldn't turn off. He groaned quietly, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. He had replayed the moment over and over, yet he still didn't know how to respond. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what to do. What was he supposed to say? What did he even feel?
With a frustrated sigh, he picked up his food and began eating absentmindedly, chewing faster than usual as if trying to drown out his thoughts with the mechanical act of eating. He didn't notice the way his grip tightened around his chopsticks or how his brows furrowed deeply. Stress eating—it was the only way he could cope right now.
Unbeknownst to him, Rachel stood quietly near the back door of the classroom, watching him. Her heart ached at the sight of his troubled expression. She had expected him to be surprised, maybe even flustered, but she hadn't anticipated this—this look of frustration, confusion, and burden. Was her confession really weighing on him that much?
She took a small step forward, the urge to go to him growing stronger. If she could just talk to him—
But before she could move any closer, a gentle hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her. Startled, she turned her head and saw Leanne standing beside her, eyes calm but firm.
Without a word, Leanne gently pulled her away.
Leanne: Let him be. Let him think it through.
Rachel: But… (glancing back at John's tense expression) why does he look so frustrated?
Leanne sighed.
Leanne: Because he's still trying to figure out what to do. You shouldn't pressure him into making a decision. This is the first time anyone's ever confessed to him, right?
Rachel nodded slowly, her fingers gripping the hem of her skirt.
Leanne: Then give him time. Seeing you right now will only make it harder for him. He needs to sort through his own feelings first. Just let him breathe.
Rachel bit her lip, conflicted, but she knew Leanne was right. As much as it hurt, she had to step back. With one last lingering look at John, she finally turned away, walking beside Leanne as they left the classroom.
********
John, with a slight sense of anticipation, reached for his phone. The familiar screen lit up, and he opened the Twibbler app without hesitation. As the feed refreshed, his eyes immediately landed on the first post at the top of his timeline—it was from Kana. Her message had been posted just the night before, and the words on the screen tugged at his heartstrings.
Without thinking, he quickly tapped the like button, then reposted her post to share it with his followers and as he did this, his fingers hovered over his screen as a small smile tugged at his lips. The simple interaction felt comforting, a silent acknowledgment that they were still there for each other.
Kana, lying in her hospital bed, glanced at her phone as it buzzed on the bedside table. She slowly reached over, the movement faint but deliberate. When she saw the notification, her eyes lit up, and a soft smile spread across her face.
Gamerboy115 liked and reposted your post.
It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her. She knew that John was online, and that made her feel less alone. It was one of those moments where something so simple could lift her spirits.
With a contented sigh, Kana unlocked her phone and opened Twibbler, her fingers already moving to open the message tab.
At the same time, John, still sitting with his phone in hand, opened the very same message tab. He found their conversation, marked by the many late-night chats they had shared over the past few months, and tapped on their ongoing chat.
Both of them, sitting in their respective places—John in his empty classroom, and Kana in her quiet, sterile hospital room—began to type almost instinctively, as if their fingers knew what to say without even thinking.
Tap, tap, tap. The rhythmic sound of their typing filled the air for a brief moment.
Then, almost as if they had rehearsed it, they both sent their messages at the same time.
Gamerboy115:
[Hey…are you there?]
Lonelygirl4556:
[Hey…]