The sky had shifted to that pale, early-morning grey — soft and hazy, like the world hadn't fully woken up yet. Sayaka stood outside the school gates, earlier than usual. Too early for her friends. Too early for Ren.
But not too early for the ache that had made her get out of bed before her alarm.
She clutched her notebook tightly under one arm. The paper inside felt heavier than it should have. Not because of its weight — but because of what it carried.
The letter was still there. Folded. Untouched. Unread.
It had lived in the shadows of her thoughts for days now. Every time she saw Ren from across the hall, or heard his voice drift past in conversation, her fingers itched to give it to him.
But something always stopped her.
Not fear exactly.
Something softer.
Something sadder.
The quiet knowledge that once she handed him that letter, there would be no going back.
No more maybe. No more pretending not to feel.
She closed her eyes, leaning against the cool metal of the gate.
The truth was: Ren wasn't cruel. He wasn't careless. But he was changing — and so was she.
The laughter they used to share so effortlessly was now laced with pause. Their conversations were lighter, shorter. Still kind, still warm — but thinner.
Like tracing over old lines, again and again, hoping the picture would become clear.
She heard footsteps.
Her heart reacted before her mind did — a small jolt, an invisible tension in her shoulders.
But it wasn't Ren.
It was Hana.
She hadn't expected that.
Hana walked past her, earbuds in, a soft bag hanging from her shoulder. Her eyes were distant — looking at nothing in particular.
But just as she passed, she slowed.
Paused.
Turned.
Sayaka met her eyes.
Neither spoke.
For one strange moment, it felt like they both knew. Not everything — but enough.
Then Hana gave a small nod.
Not a greeting.
Not an apology.
Something else.
A quiet understanding.
Then she walked on.
Sayaka stayed frozen in place for a few more seconds.
When she looked down at the notebook in her arms, she thought about all the words inside.
And how none of them could prepare her for this.
For the way silence sometimes speaks louder than anything she could write.
She didn't open the notebook that morning.
She just stood beneath the cherry trees, waiting for Ren.
And wondering what kind of girl she needed to become…
to stop being afraid of being heard.