"If I smile at her now, will she still look away three years from today?"
---
The world smelled of spring.
Freshly cut grass. Faint cherry blossoms. The chalky scent of clean blackboards and untouched textbooks. It was the first day of high school, again.
Hana Watanabe stood outside Classroom 1-B, clutching the strap of her bag like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. Her hands trembled. Her breathing felt uneven.
She stared at the door, too afraid to open it.
Not because she was nervous about new classmates.
Not because of the teacher or seating charts.
But because she knew who was already inside.
Mio Katagiri.
Alive. Unbroken. Smiling, perhaps.
Hana hadn't seen that smile in years without the shadow of death hanging over it. The memory of Mio's funeral — the white flowers, the empty speeches, the quiet looks of confusion on classmates' faces — had been etched into her soul.
But now…
She was here.
Alive.
Hana forced herself to breathe, then slid open the door.
Thirty pairs of eyes turned to her.
So did one.
Hana froze.
Mio Katagiri was seated by the window, sunlight gently catching the strands of her long black hair. Her uniform was crisp and neat. Her eyes were softer — not yet dulled by years of silence, not yet guarded.
Their eyes met.
For a second.
Then Mio looked away with polite detachment.
And Hana felt her heart sink.
Of course she doesn't remember.
This is your past, not hers.
---
A Familiar Stranger
"Ah, Watanabe-san, right? There's an open seat beside Katagiri-san," the homeroom teacher said.
Of course there was.
Hana's knees nearly gave out.
She made her way across the classroom slowly, every step feeling like she was walking through a dream.
Or a memory.
She sat down beside Mio.
The space between them — a desk's width — felt like a canyon.
Mio turned slightly, just enough to give a small, polite smile.
"…Nice to meet you," she said softly.
Her voice.
God.
Hana felt something lodge in her throat.
"I… I'm Hana. Hana Watanabe."
"I know," Mio said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "We met in middle school, remember?"
A pause.
Hana blinked.
Right. This version of Mio remembered her.
They had been friends. Close friends.
This was before the silence began.
Before Hana walked away.
"Yeah," Hana murmured. "I remember."
Mio smiled, gently. "I'm glad we're in the same class again."
---
A Ghost in Her Skin
Classes passed in a blur.
Math. Japanese. History.
Hana didn't hear a word of it.
She kept glancing sideways at Mio — studying her hands, the way her pen moved, the soft frown she wore when she concentrated.
So familiar.
So real.
And so unbearably distant.
Mio still smiled when spoken to. Still bowed respectfully to the teacher. Still looked flawless.
But now Hana could see the cracks.
In the way her shoulders slumped just slightly when she thought no one was watching.
In how she rubbed at her temples during breaks like her thoughts were too loud.
No one else noticed.
They never had.
But Hana did.
And the knowledge of what would come — the despair, the isolation, the final fall — made her throat tighten with every passing minute.
---
Lunch Break
Mio sat alone under a cherry blossom tree, a book open in her lap, though her eyes weren't moving across the page.
Hana hesitated.
Three years ago, this is where she started the silence.
This is where she walked away to go practice archery, thinking she was doing the right thing.
She thought she was becoming stronger.
All she did was leave Mio behind.
She clenched her fists, then approached.
"Hey," she said softly.
Mio looked up, surprised.
"…Watanabe-san?"
"Call me Hana," she said quickly. "Please."
Mio blinked. Then nodded. "Okay. Hana."
That sound.
Her name in Mio's voice.
"I was wondering," Hana continued, sitting down beside her, "if we could eat together. Like we used to."
Mio tilted her head. "Used to?"
"Middle school," Hana said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We always ate lunch under the stairs, remember?"
Mio blinked. Then smiled — a real one. Small, but warm.
"…Right. You always shared your tamagoyaki with me because mine was too sweet."
"You still like it salty?"
"I haven't changed that much," Mio chuckled.
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
Then Mio spoke.
"You disappeared a bit in third year. In middle school, I mean. You stopped sitting with me."
The words struck like a slap.
Hana nodded slowly. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Was it archery?"
"…Yeah."
"You were really serious about it."
Hana swallowed. "I thought I had to be."
Mio turned to her, her eyes soft. "You don't have to explain. I wasn't angry. Just… a little lonely."
Hana's breath caught.
So even now — even before high school started — the loneliness was already there.
"I won't disappear this time," Hana whispered.
Mio looked confused. "This time?"
Hana quickly shook her head. "Sorry. I just meant… I want to stay close. If that's okay."
A pause.
Then Mio nodded.
"I'd like that."
---
Evening
Back home, Hana collapsed onto her futon, her face buried in her pillow.
She had made it through the first day.
And Mio… was still alive.
Still soft.
Still reachable.
But the clock was ticking.
Hana knew that if she didn't act soon — if she let time slip away again — the silence would grow between them like ivy.
Until it smothered them both.
---
Later That Night
She opened her journal.
Page 1: Mission
Save Mio Katagiri.
Beneath it, she wrote:
Be by her side
Make her feel seen
Break the cycle before it begins
Find out what she's hiding
Don't waste this time
Say it before it's too late
She closed the book and stared at the ceiling.
Outside her window, cherry blossoms fluttered in the wind.
---
End of Chapter 2
---