Time: 9:00 AM -- Classroom
The results sheet was taped to the board. Students crowded around, laughter and cheers spilling through the room as names and numbers were read aloud.
I checked the list. My name. My score.
Average.
Not top 5. Not even top 10. Just… plain.
My body froze. For years, studying was all I had. The one thing no one could take from me. And now this?
My chest went hollow. My pen shook in my pocket.
"Haruto!"
I turned. Miyuki hurried toward me, her eyes bright with relief. "I made top 5!" She beamed, cheeks flushed with pride. "What about you?"
I hesitated, then slowly showed her my sheet.
Her smile faltered. "Oh… Haruto…"
Silence hung heavy before she tried to laugh it off.
"Well, at least Souta scored higher this time! Surprising, right?"
The words stabbed deeper than any punch Souta had ever thrown. My breath hitched. My knees weakened.
She blinked, realizing too late. "I-I didn't mean it like that. Haruto, I"
But I couldn't hear. Couldn't breathe.
"…Yeah," I whispered, voice hollow. "He's better than me."
I turned and walked away, leaving her reaching after me.
Time: Break Time – Classroom
"Oi, look who's here." Souta's voice cut through the air.
He swaggered toward me, his score sheet dangling in his hand. "Not bad, huh? Guess I finally beat you at your own game."
A smirk spread across his face, venom in every word. "How's it feel, Haruto? To lose even at the only thing you're good at?"
Miyuki's friends circled around us, snickering.
"Seriously, Haruto, you look dead inside."
"Books can't save you now."
Some classmates protested. "Stop it! Haruto studied harder than anyone"
But their voices were drowned out by laughter.
The door opened. Miyuki stepped in, eyes narrowing at the scene.
One of her so-called friends grabbed her arm, shoving her toward Souta. "Go on, Miyuki. He's the real deal. Better than Haruto."
Souta caught her hand with a grin. "See? Even fate agrees with me."
I froze. My mind spun. My vision blurred
For a split second, I saw a future: Miyuki laughing in Souta's arms as he mocked me, her warmth stolen away forever.
"Stop it!"
The sound of a slap cracked the room. Miyuki's hand trembled, her friend clutching her stinging cheek.
"You disgust me," Miyuki spat, voice trembling with fury. "All of you. Just wait my Haruto will be back. He'll be top of this class again. Stronger than ever."
Her words stunned the room into silence.
She grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the door. The classmates who had defended me earlier now clapped in agreement.
"Yeah, Haruto's the real top student here!"
"You'll see next time!"
Souta's smirk twisted into a scowl, his fist clenching until his knuckles turned white.
Time: 11:30 AM
We were almost at the stairs when a voice stopped us.
"Haruto."
Our homeroom teacher stood waiting, arms folded. "Come with me for a moment."
Miyuki gave my hand one last squeeze. "I'll wait outside," she whispered, then let go.
Inside the office, the teacher's gaze softened. "I saw your scores."
I lowered my head. My eyes burned, my throat closed.
Her voice gentled. "You did your best. That's all that matters. We'll aim higher next time."
My lips trembled. "But… I failed…"
Her footsteps crossed the room. She pulled me into a warm embrace, one hand patting my head.
"It's alright, Haruto. Everything is alright. One exam doesn't define you."
The tears I'd been holding back spilled, soaking her shoulder. For the first time, I allowed myself to break.
And in that moment, her voice was the only thing keeping me from disappearing completely.
Scene: Evening -- Gym's Backdoor
The courtyard was quiet, the last glow of sunset bleeding into the horizon. I thought I was alone.
Then, footsteps. Laughter.
When I turned, they were already there.
Miyuki's five closest friends, blocking the exit, their faces lit up with the kind of smiles that weren't smiles at all.
"Well, look who's still hanging around school," one of them sneered.
"The so-called genius. Or should we say… ex-genius?"
Laughter rippled between them. My throat tightened.
"…Move."
"Oooh, scary." Another girl stepped closer, phone already raised. Click.
"There. The face of a loser who can't even protect his own girlfriend."
Heat rushed into my face. "Stop"
Two of them shoved me against the wall. My bag slipped from my shoulder and crashed to the ground, spilling notebooks and pens across the dirt.
"Careful, don't hurt him too much," one of them giggled. "If he breaks, who's gonna solve all the boring equations for us?"
Another crouched, snapping photos as I scrambled on my knees to pick up my scattered things. Click. Click. Click.
"Wow, these are perfect," she smirked. "We should caption it: 'Haruto, the pathetic bookworm.'"
I clenched my fists so tight my nails cut into my palms.
"Hey, Haruto," one leaned close, her breath hot in my ear. "You know what Miyuki said the other day? She said Souta scored higher than you. Imagine that. Even your little kingdom of numbers isn't yours anymore."
The group howled with laughter.
"She didn't mean it like that…" I whispered, my voice breaking.
"Aw, listen to him defend her," another mocked, tugging at my collar. "Face it. Souta's stronger, funnier, and way better-looking. Miyuki deserves him. Not you."
"Take another one," one called out. Another flash blinded me as I looked up, my face wet with tears I hadn't realized were falling.
"Perfect!" she said. "'Crying after school because Souta's the better man.' I'll send this to the group chat."
"Maybe we should send it to Miyuki too," another chimed in with a wicked grin.
"Let her see what kind of pathetic boyfriend she's stuck with."
I froze. My hands trembled violently. "…Don't. Please."
"Oh, look, he's begging now," one said, crouching to meet my eyes. "Pathetic."
The last girl who had been silent the whole time finally spoke, her voice cold and cutting.
"You'll never win, Haruto. Not against Souta. Not in class. Not in love. Everyone knows it. Everyone but you."
They turned away, their laughter echoing down the empty path as they disappeared into the twilight.
I stayed there, crumpled against the wall, hugging my bag to my chest like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Miyuki's name lit the screen.
I couldn't answer.
Not when her friends' voices still stabbed at me, each word replaying like a curse I couldn't erase.
Scene: Evening -- Haruto's House
By the time I got home, the sky was already dark. My shoes dragged across the floor as I slipped them off.
"Haruto? You're late today."
Mom peeked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Yeah… library," I muttered, though the lie caught in my throat.
From the living room, Dad's voice carried out, deep but gentle.
"Come here, Haruto. Sit down. We were waiting for you."
I walked in slowly. Both of them sat together, the TV murmuring quietly in the background. Dad patted the spot beside him on the couch.
"You look tired, son," he said, studying me with furrowed brows. "Rough day?"
I sat down stiffly, my fingers still trembling. "Just… exams. Results."
Mom leaned forward, concern flickering in her eyes. "Did something happen at school? You're pale."
I shook my head too quickly. "No. I'm fine. Just… studying too much, maybe."
Dad sighed, reaching over to rest his large hand on my shoulder.
"You don't have to carry everything alone, Haruto. Marks are important, yes, but they aren't everything. You understand?"
My throat burned. The images of Miyuki's friends laughing, Souta's name echoing in their voices, the flash of their cameras all of it twisted in my mind.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I understand."
Mom smiled softly, though her eyes didn't lose their worry. "We're proud of you, Haruto. Always. Even if your marks drop, even if you stumble, you're still our son. That's never going to change."
Her words pressed against the wall inside me the wall that kept everything hidden. The humiliation. The weakness. The loneliness.
I forced a small smile. "Thanks."
Dad chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the air. "Come on, let's eat. I bought some extra snacks on the way home. We'll make tonight a little celebration exams are over, after all."
I nodded. The smell of food drifted from the kitchen, warm and comforting.
But as I sat between them, their voices mixing with the clatter of dishes, my chest felt heavier than ever.
Because no matter how much they loved me… I couldn't let them see the broken pieces I was holding inside.