Aiden didn't talk much.
I noticed that pretty quickly.
He wasn't rude, or cold—just… reserved. The kind of person who listened more than he spoke. At first, that silence felt awkward, like an empty space begging to be filled. So, naturally, I filled it.
"Do you ever smile?" I asked during lunch, poking at my food.
He looked up. "Do you ever stop talking?"
I scoffed. "Rude."
But his eyes softened, and that tiny almost-smile appeared again. The one that felt like a secret.
Days passed, and somehow we fell into a routine. Sitting next to each other. Sharing notes. Walking the same hallway at the same time without planning it. We didn't label anything. We didn't need to.
Still, there was distance.
Sometimes I'd catch him staring out the window like he was somewhere else entirely. When I asked, he'd just shake his head.
"Nothing important."
I didn't push. People have their reasons.
One afternoon, it started raining as school ended. Everyone rushed for cover, groaning and complaining. I stayed under the roof, watching the water fall in silver lines.
"You waiting it out?" Aiden asked.
"Don't feel like getting soaked."
He nodded, then silently held out his umbrella.
I blinked. "What about you?"
"I don't mind the rain."
For a moment, I hesitated—then stepped under the umbrella beside him. Our shoulders barely touched, but I felt it anyway. Neither of us spoke as we walked, the rain filling the silence.
When we reached the corner where our paths split, he stopped.
"See you tomorrow, Hinata."
It was the first time he said my name.
And for some reason, it stayed with me long after I got home.