invisible string

The late afternoon sun bathed the countryside in golden light as Mizuki and Ena lay sprawled on the soft grass, the gentle rustling of the breeze their only company.

Ena’s head rested lightly on Mizuki’s chest, his fingers combing through her hair in slow, soothing strokes.

The world around them seemed to melt away, leaving just the two twelve year olds in their quiet bubble of warmth and tranquility.

It had been a stroke of luck that Ena was even here.

The Akiyama family had planned their summer getaway to the countryside weeks ago, eager for a break from the city’s chaos.

But knowing how inseparable Mizuki and Ena were, they’d extended an invitation for Ena to join them.

Convincing her parents hadn’t been easy. It had taken days of pleading, careful arguments, and a promise to stay out of trouble.

In the end, it was her brother’s packed summer of soccer matches that tipped the scales. With him away at tournaments, her parents relented, deciding it was only fair she have her own summer adventure.

And now, here she was, surrounded by rolling hills and endless skies, her worries swept away by the sound of Mizuki’s heartbeat beneath her ear.

They were staying at Mizuki’s grandparents’ house for a week. Though elderly, his grandparents were gracious and welcoming, always insisting they could stay as long as they liked.

From the moment Ena arrived, they treated her with warmth and kindness, as if she were already a part of the family.

“Ena?” Mizuki’s low voice broke through her drifting thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

“Mmh? What is it?” Ena replied, turning her head to look at him.

“I-I was wondering…” Mizuki hesitated, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. “If I could braid your hair,” he finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ena blinked in surprise before a small smile tugged at her lips. “You want to braid my hair?” she asked, amused by his sudden shyness.

Mizuki nodded, avoiding her gaze. “Only if you’re okay with it,” he added quickly, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

“I mean, yeah, sure, but why all of a sudden?” Ena asked with a soft smile as she sat up, slipping off Mizuki’s chest.

Mizuki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Your hair is soft… and it’s really pretty,” he said, his voice quiet, almost reverent, as he admired it.

“Yours is really pretty too…” Ena said softly, her voice sweet as she leaned her cheek into Mizuki’s hand.

Her warm gaze met his, and a small smile graced her lips. “It’s soft, and the pink makes you look pretty too…”

Mizuki’s cheeks flushed at her words, a faint pink that matched the tips of his hair. He averted his gaze for a moment, fidgeting.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “but I don’t mean it like that.”

Ena tilted her head, watching him curiously. “Then what do you mean?” she asked gently.

Mizuki hesitated, his hand dropping to his lap.

“I wish I could let my hair grow like yours,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. His gaze lowered, and a shadow of sadness flickered across his face.

“But mine’s not that long,” Ena said with a soft laugh, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Mizuki replied, his voice tinged with melancholy as he twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers.

Ena leaned closer, her expression brightening as an idea struck her.

“But you know, you could let yours grow a bit too! There are boys with long hair, you know?” she said excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

Mizuki blinked, surprised by her sudden enthusiasm. “You think so?” he asked, his voice carrying a mix of doubt and curiosity.

“Of course!” Ena beamed. “I think it’d look really good on you. And I could even braid it for you one day!”

“But you know… boys don’t really get to grow their hair out,” Mizuki said timidly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ena frowned, tilting her head as she studied him.

“Who says that?” she asked, her tone gentle but firm.

Mizuki shrugged, his gaze fixed on the grass. “You know… it’s just something everyone says, even the kids at school. Like, it’s not normal or something.”

Ena crossed her arms, a determined look crossing her face.

“That’s silly. Who cares what people say? If you want to grow your hair out, you should. It’s your hair, Mizuki, not theirs.”

Mizuki glanced at her, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Ena said confidently. “And like I said, I’d love to braid it for you someday. You’d look amazing.”

A small smile crept onto Mizuki’s face, the sadness lifting just a little. “Thanks, Ena… that means a lot. Maybe i’ll do it one day” 

Then, without a word, Ena turned her back to Mizuki, showing her short hair to him.

“Eh?” Mizuki blinked in surprise, caught off guard.

“Aren’t you supposed to braid my hair?” Ena teased, glancing at him over her shoulder with a playful smile. “I’m waiting!”

Mizuki’s cheeks flushed as he sat up straighter. “Oh! R-right,” he stammered, reaching out hesitantly.

“I’ve never really done this before… Only to my dolls”

“That’s okay,” Ena said with a soft laugh, her voice warm. “Just do your best. I trust you.”

Encouraged by her words, Mizuki gently picked up a section of her hair, his fingers fumbling slightly as he tried to weave the strands together.

After a few minutes, Ena’s hair was styled into a messy side braid, strands poking out unevenly here and there. It wasn’t perfect but as she ran her fingers over the loose braid, she couldn’t help but smile.

“How does it look?” Mizuki asked nervously, sitting back to admire his work.

Ena turned to him, her eyes sparkling. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth.

“I feel like the prettiest girl in the world.”

Mizuki blinked, his cheeks flushing at her words. “Y-you’re just saying that…”

“Nope,” Ena replied confidently, tilting her head to show off the braid. “It’s special because you made it. That’s what makes it perfect.”

Mizuki ducked his head, hiding a shy smile. “I’ll get better at it,” he promised.

Ena giggled. “I’m holding you to that.”

Before she could stop herself, she leaned in and placed a soft, innocent kiss on his lips. It was brief, unspoken, and as natural to them as the rhythm of their breaths.

From that day forward, Ena always wore her hair in a braid. It wasn’t always perfect, but that didn’t matter.

Every time she tied her hair that way, it brought her back to that afternoon with the golden sunlight, the soft breeze, and Mizuki’s careful hands weaving the strands together.

It wasn’t just a hairstyle anymore; it was a memory, a piece of Mizuki she carried wherever she went.

That day, Mizuki found himself oddly alone at school. Mafuyu was away visiting relatives, and Ena had caught a cold from their impromptu adventure in the rain a week ago. It felt strange not having them around, their presence usually filled the gaps of his day, keeping the loneliness at bay.

Now, he sat by himself in the corner of the school courtyard during recess, absently watching groups of classmates chatting and laughing.

The lively buzz around him felt distant, like he was on the outside looking in.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, willing the hands to move faster.

The minutes stretched endlessly as he waited for the bell to ring, signaling it was time to head back to class. For now, though, it was just him and the steady hum of voices that didn’t include his own.

It was their final year of elementary school, and change loomed just around the corner.

Soon, they would all move on to middle school but things wouldn’t be quite the same.

Mafuyu’s mother had decided she would attend an all girls school, believing it would help her focus more on her studies.

The news had left Mizuki and Ena feeling a little sad, The three of them had always been together, and the idea of Mafuyu not being with them in class felt strange, like a piece of their small world was missing.

Still, they refused to let that distance break their bond. They made a quiet promise to meet after school whenever they could, to walk home together just as they always had.

Even if they weren’t sitting side by side in the same classroom anymore, they would find a way to keep things as close to normal as possible.

It wouldn’t be easy, but they clung to the hope that their trio would remain intact, even as the world around them began to change.

Meanwhile, Ena and Mizuki would still be attending the same school.

Ena’s parents weren’t particularly fond of Mizuki, often questioning his influence on her.

But despite their reservations, they ultimately decided it was fine, reasoning that it was better for Ena to have someone familiar by her side as she adjusted to middle school.

Mizuki was about to take a bite of the sandwich his mom had made when, out of nowhere, a ball came flying toward him.

It smashed into his head with a sharp thud, knocking the sandwich from his hands. His head slammed against the wall behind him, and the ball struck him squarely in the eye, sending him tumbling off the bench.

Pain exploded across his body, radiating from his head and eye. He couldn’t even open his eyes, the sting so sharp it felt unbearable.

His chest tightened as tears threatened to spill, but he bit them back, wishing more than anything to disappear, to escape this moment and the relentless ache that refused to fade.

Mizuki heard footsteps approaching and cracked his eyes open, hoping to find someone who would help him. Instead, he was met with a familiar face. one of the boys who always bullied him.

“Oh, sorry about that,” the boy said with a grin that was anything but apologetic. “It was an accident, right?” He bent down to pick up the ball, his eyes gleaming with mockery as he looked down at Mizuki, who was still struggling on the ground.

“I didn’t see your friends today,” the boy continued, his tone dripping with condescension. “Or your girlfriend, I guess. Though let’s be real, I doubt she’d ever actually be your girlfriend. Who’d want to marry someone like you?”

Before Mizuki could respond, the boy swung his foot at the sandwich lying on the ground, sending it flying into Mizuki’s pristine white outfit, one of his sister’s favorite designs.

Mizuki’s heart sank as he looked down at the ruined fabric, smeared with dirt and food stains. His chest tightened with humiliation and anger, but he couldn’t muster the strength to fight back. The sting of the boy’s words and actions weighed heavier than the physical pain.

“Leave me alone!” Mizuki shouted, his voice trembling as he struggled to push himself off the ground.

His hands shook, and his head throbbed as he tried to stand, but the sharp sting in his eye and the tears threatening to spill made it nearly impossible. The boy’s mocking laughter echoed in his ears, only adding to the overwhelming mix of pain and humiliation.

Even as Mizuki’s vision blurred and his body ached, he refused to let the boy see him completely break. He wiped at his face with a shaky hand, determined to hold on to whatever dignity he had left.

“Or what?” the kid mocked, a sneer curling his lips. “You gonna put me in a dress?”

Mizuki’s head spun, the taunt piercing through him like a dagger. He could hear a few other laughs in the distance, but it only made the moment feel even more isolating.

“You know, Mizuki,” the kid continued, his voice dripping with contempt, “we’re growing up. And my dad says it’s disgusting how you still can’t behave like a real boy.”

The words stung deeper than anything physical. Mizuki’s chest tightened, the weight of shame pressing down on him. He could feel his tears welling up, but he refused to let them fall, even as the boy’s cruel words lingered in his mind.

Before Mizuki could say anything in response, the recess bell rang, signaling the end of break. The students rushed past him, eager to return to class, leaving Mizuki standing alone in the midst of it all.

He stood there, a mix of pain and confusion swirling inside him, as the harshness of the moment lingered in the silence.

It felt like a cruel echo of the way things used to be before he met Ena. Back then, he’d been ridiculed constantly, and even though things weren’t as bad now, the mocking words and stares still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The kids hadn’t changed much, had they only been pretending to be kind because of Ena’s presence? Were their kindness and smiles nothing more than a mask hiding their real feelings? Mizuki couldn’t shake the thought that, if Ena or Mafuyu were alone, they might face the same cruelty.

He felt a deep, protective urge rise within him.

He didn’t want them to go through what he had, to feel small or humiliated. He couldn’t bear the thought of them enduring the same treatment.

He would do anything to keep them from experiencing the loneliness and hurt that had defined his own days.

Even if it meant to stop being happy. 

A few days later, when Ena finally returned to school, she was surprised to see Mizuki sitting by himself, wearing plain, mismatched clothes that looked nothing like his usual style. What caught her attention even more was the dark purple bruise around his eye.

Alarmed, she rushed over to him. “Mizuki! What happened to you?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Mizuki looked away, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “It’s nothing,” he said with a weak smile. “A ball accidentally hit me, and all of my clothes are dirty, so I just threw these on.”

Ena frowned, not entirely convinced, but Mizuki’s expression didn’t invite further questions. She hesitated for a moment before letting it go, assuming he was just embarrassed.

But deep down, Mizuki knew the truth. That was the first of many lies he would tell Ena, hiding the pain he didn’t want her to share.

“Oh… No, thank you,” Mizuki said softly, his voice kind but firm as he rejected the girl standing in front of him.

Ena, leaning casually against the wall beside him, swung her foot against it in vague impatience.

She wasn’t looking directly at the scene, her eyes fixed elsewhere, but she was waiting. Waiting for yet another one of Mizuki’s new fan girls to muster the courage to ask him out, only to face the inevitable.

Both Ena and Mizuki were now in middle school, having reached the age of thirteen.

For some reason, Mizuki had started catching the attention of the girls at school. They’d giggle when he passed by, whispering to each other and occasionally stopping to talk to him.

To Ena, though, he still looked like the same Mizuki she had always known.

Maybe it was the fact that they were now juniors and in middle school, or perhaps there was something about growing up that made him seem different to others. But to her, he was still just Mizuki.

Her best friend.

Behind the girl’s back, Mizuki’s hand was tightly clasping Ena’s, his fingers warm and steady against hers. It was a quiet reassurance, a silent promise that he hadn’t forgotten her not even for a second. Ena didn’t say anything, but the way she squeezed his hand back said enough.

As the girl walked away, Mizuki glanced at Ena, his expression calm. “You okay?” he asked softly.

Ena shrugged, her foot tapping the wall one last time. “Always,” she said, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips.

Just like Ena, Mizuki began to notice changes everywhere. Subtle at first, but growing harder to ignore.

Ena had started to change in subtle yet noticeable ways.

Her body had become slimmer, her frame shifting just enough to make her seem older, more grown up. Though she still looked young and not fully mature, the soft roundness of her baby face was gradually fading.

Her personality was changing, too.

Some days, she seemed abrupt or irritable, getting annoyed more easily than before. Other days, she was the same Ena, with her familiar humor and quirks that Mizuki had always known.

She didn’t laugh at silly things as often, but she was still his Ena. 

The friend who always stood by him.

Mizuki’s mom had noticed the changes, too, and assured him it was normal. “It’s just puberty,” she explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. But Mizuki didn’t pay much attention to her words.

To him, Ena was still Ena, no matter how much she grew or changed.

Sometimes, Mizuki found himself glancing at Ena and feeling a pang of longing he couldn’t quite name. Her hair, flowing softly over her shoulders, seemed to glow in the light, free and alive in a way that made him ache.

His own hair, cut short and neat, barely moved, sitting like a silent reminder of all the things he wished he could have but couldn’t.

Her hands, delicate and slim, moved with a natural grace that Mizuki couldn’t stop noticing.

His, by contrast, felt bigger and rougher, marked by knuckles that seemed too large, skin that felt too coarse.

Ena’s complexion remained smooth and clear, while his was dotted with pimples and shadowed by the faint beginnings of facial hair.

A sight and sensation that made him want to claw at his face to get rid of it.

Even Ena’s posture had changed.

Her shoulders were drawn back, her figure subtly shifting into someone more grown, more poised, hinting at a future version of herself that the world already seemed to embrace.

Meanwhile, Mizuki felt like a stranger in his own body. His legs were too long, his hands too big, and his voice it had started to drop in ways that made him flinch whenever he spoke.

Nothing about him felt right.

He envied the way Ena seemed to move so naturally, her body fitting her like a second skin, while he felt like he was walking around in a costume he hadn’t chosen.

Every step he took seemed to call unwanted attention, every glance he caught in a mirror a reminder that something was missing, that something was wrong.

It wasn’t just his body.

Slowly, Mizuki found himself retreating from the things he once loved. He stopped wearing the clothes his sister had lovingly designed for him.

They still brought him joy, but the stares, the whispers, and the quiet mockery of his classmates began to weigh on him.

Even with Ena always by his side, ready to speak up for him, Mizuki couldn’t shake the fear that she would face the same ridicule just for being associated with him.

So, he put those clothes away, stuffing them deep into his closet like they were pieces of himself he wasn’t allowed to keep.

Some days, he could pretend everything was fine, that he was fine. But on other days, the discomfort crept in like a shadow, whispering that his reflection didn’t belong to him, that his voice, his movements, his very existence felt out of place.

He tried to shake it off, to ignore it, but the ache remained.

It lingered in his chest, heavy and persistent, leaving him restless and unsure of where he belonged in a world that felt like it was moving on without him.

“Do you want to come over to my house later?” Mizuki asked softly, glancing at Ena as they walked toward their classroom.

“I can’t,” Ena replied with a hint of resignation in her voice. “My dad wants all of us to go to his new gallery’s opening ceremony.”

“Oh, I see,” Mizuki said, offering her a small, understanding smile. “Did you end up enrolling in that art class you told me about?”

At his words, Ena’s face lit up, and she immediately launched into an excited ramble.

“Yes! It’s amazing, Mizuki! The teacher is so cool but he is really strict too, and they’ve already given us a bunch of projects to work on. There’s this one where we have to create a piece inspired by our favorite memory, and I’ve been thinking about—”

Mizuki listened attentively, his heart warming at her enthusiasm. Her energy was infectious, and even if he couldn’t follow every detail, the joy in her voice was enough to make him smile wider.

“And you?” Ena asked softly, mirroring Mizuki’s earlier tone.

“Mmh, I haven’t really done anything,” Mizuki admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“I mostly just stay in my room and watch that anime I told you about. You should watch it with me one day.”

Ena listened carefully, even though anime wasn’t really her thing. She didn’t mind. “Maybe we could have a sleepover one of these days, and you can show it to me,” she suggested with a gentle smile.

Mizuki’s face lit up instantly, his smile so bright it made Ena chuckle. “Yeah! You should come over this weekend! You know my family wouldn’t mind if you stayed for a whole month.”

Ena laughed softly at his enthusiasm, already imagining how excited he’d be to show her every single episode. “Alright, alright, we’ll plan for the weekend,” she said, shaking her head fondly.

Maybe things were changing. like their bodies, their lives, the way the world seemed to shift around them but Mizuki was still Mizuki, and Ena was still Ena.

No matter how much they grew, the bond between them remained the same.

A few days later, Ena found herself standing outside Mizuki’s house, her bag slung over her shoulder.

She hadn’t even bothered to ask for permission to stay over. Her parents were too busy with her dad’s gallery to notice much lately. Besides, with her art classes eating up so much of her time, it felt like forever since she’d spent an evening just hanging out with Mizuki.

The door creaked open, and Ena’s heart lifted at the sight in front of her.

Mizuki stood there with a bright, genuine smile, dressed in a pair of pink pajamas that she instantly recognized as something his sister must have made for him.

It had been so long since she’d seen that kind of smile on him, the carefree unabashedly happy one. At school, his smiles had grown quieter, tinged with hesitation, like a shadow of the kid she once knew.

But here, standing in the warm glow of his home, he looked like the Mizuki she remembered, the Mizuki she missed.

“Ena!” Mizuki exclaimed as he opened the door, pulling her into a warm hug. Ena smiled, the gesture tugging at her heart.

It reminded her of the simpler days, when neither of them had any worries weighing them down. Back then, she would spend entire weekends in this house, doing everything and nothing at all with Mizuki.

“Come on, I already have the snacks ready,” Mizuki said, his excitement palpable as he pulled her inside.

They quickly made their way to Mizuki’s room, which felt frozen in time. It was the same as she remembered, filled with a mix of colors and personal touches.

But something was different, the mirror Mizuki used to adore, the one he would stand in front of to model his sister’s creations with pride, was now draped with a cloth, hidden from sight.

Ena noticed it immediately but decided not to say anything.

“I have everything ready! let’s get in my bed,” Mizuki said, motioning toward the neatly made space.

Ena followed him without hesitation, settling into the familiar comfort of his bed. Mizuki curled up beside her, resting his head on her chest like he’d done so many times before. Together, they turned their attention to the screen, watching the anime Mizuki had been so excited to share.

Ena didn’t care much about the show, but hearing the way Mizuki talked about it and seeing the spark in his eyes made it more than worth it.

In that moment, everything else faded away, and it felt like nothing had changed at all.

Ena shifted slightly, her heart full of warmth as she leaned closer to Mizuki.

Without hesitation, she placed a soft, innocent kiss on his lips, just like they always used to. It wasn’t anything grand or dramatic. it was gentle, a gesture so natural between them that it felt like breathing.

Mizuki blinked up at her, surprised for only a moment before his expression softened. This was them, the same as always, and in that tiny act, the world outside seemed to fall away entirely.

Ena smiled to herself, a faint blush warming her cheeks.

She knew she now had a new memory to draw from for her art class project.

This moment, simple yet full of meaning was something she wanted to capture, not just in her heart, but maybe on paper too.

Mizuki had never been more scared in his life.

His mind raced, the weight of his own guilt pressing down on him like a storm.

He blamed himself for not seeing it sooner, for ignoring the signs, for letting things get this far.

How could he have been so blind? He knew Ena better than anyone, yet somehow, he had allowed himself to believe her every time she said she was “fine.”

But she wasn’t fine.

She never admitted when she wasn’t fine. That was something Mizuki hated about her, that stubborn refusal to show weakness even when it was clear she was hurting.

She had claimed to be “okay” after being grounded for over a month following a heated argument with her dad about her art classes.

Mizuki had believed her then.

She was also “okay” when her dad had conveniently “extended” (forgotten) her birthday last year.

Mizuki had convinced himself it didn’t bother her.

And she had been “okay” when she was bedridden with a stomach infection so severe it left her unable to eat for days.

Even then, she brushed it off with a faint smile, pale and frail, her body trembling with exhaustion. “Don’t worry, Mizuki,” she would say, her voice weak but insistent.

Mizuki had wanted to believe her.

No… he needed to believe her. Ena and Mizuki didn’t keep secrets from each other, after all right? 

Ena fainted in the middle of the park, and in that instant, Mizuki understood something he had never fully grasped. 

Everyone lies, even Ena.

Luckily, Mafuyu had been there when it happened. As Ena’s body collapsed, Mafuyu had caught her and gently laid her down, trying to keep her steady while Mizuki frantically pulled out his phone.

His hands trembled as he called Ena’s parents, his voice urgent, barely able to hide the panic rising in his chest.

When they brought Ena home, Mizuki followed closely, his heart racing. His mother was already in the room, administering the medicine the doctor had prescribed since no one else was at Ena’s house.

Mizuki stood by the bed, his gaze locked on Ena’s pale face. Though he trusted his mom, he couldn’t help but watch her every move, feeling an overwhelming need to make sure Ena was getting exactly what she needed.

Ena stirred slightly as Mizuki’s mom finished giving her the medicine. “You should have taken this weeks ago,” his mom said, her tone scolding but gentle, more disappointed than angry.

But Mizuki didn’t need his mom to reprimand Ena, he had already done it himself.

For half an hour, Mizuki had been yelling at Ena, his voice hoarse, his frustration spilling out in waves.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he had shouted, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Why do you always act like everything’s fine when it’s not? You could’ve—” His voice broke. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Ena!”

Ena, still weak and unable to argue, had only whispered a soft, “I’m sorry…”

But Mizuki wasn’t sure if he could accept her apology this time. Seeing her like this, fragile and vulnerable, had shaken something inside him.

He didn’t know if he was more furious at Ena for lying, or at himself for believing her.

As Mizuki sat by her bed now, watching her rest, the anger gave way to something heavier, an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle, almost hesitant.

“Please, Ena,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “No more lies. Not to me.”

Ena lifts her gaze, her soft smile shadowed by the weariness on her face. Mizuki hesitates, his chest tight, his thoughts a mess.

Then, without fully understanding why, he leans in. It’s not planned, not even deliberate, it’s just what feels right. His lips meet hers gently, a touch filled with quiet desperation.

She doesn’t pull away. Instead, Ena answers the kiss, her response fragile but certain. Mizuki’s pulse races, his stomach fluttering in a way that almost feels painful.

He doesn’t know what makes the sensation, and for a moment he wonders if he is also sick too but in that moment, none of it matters.

The kiss is brief but lingers in the air around them, heavier than words. Beneath the artificial stars glowing faintly above, Mizuki hopes Ena can feel the unspoken promise in his touch that she’s not alone, that she matters.

As they part, Ena exhales softly, her voice no louder than a whisper. “I promise,” she says, and her words carry a weight Mizuki isn’t ready to let go of.

Mizuki falls asleep next to Ena’s side on her bed as she peacefully sleeped when all of the sudden a shake on his shoulder followed by a voice he found annoying waking him up. 

Mizuki stirred and opened his eyes to see Shinonome Shinei standing over him.

Shinei stepped back, arms crossed, his expression stern. “It’s late, Mizuki. Time to go home,” he said.

Then, with a quieter, sharper tone, he added, “You shouldn’t even be here.” He brushed his hair back from his face, his irritation clear.

Mizuki didn’t respond, but his resentment burned. He tightened his grip on Ena’s hand, unwilling to let go.

She was still asleep, her breathing shallow, and he wasn’t going to leave her alone. Shinei noticed the silent defiance and scowled, his lips curling into a tight, angry grin.

“Home. Now,” Shinei repeated, his voice cold and final.

Mizuki didn’t budge. Ena had always stood by him, through every cruel word, every hard moment.

He wasn’t about to abandon her now, not when she needed him most.

Shinei’s patience snapped. “If that’s how you want to play it, fine,” he growled.

His paint stained hand shot out, gripping Mizuki’s wrist with bruising force. Without another word, he yanked Mizuki away from the bed.

Pain shot through Mizuki’s arm, but he bit back any reaction. He struggled against Shinei’s hold, planting his feet, doing everything he could to resist.

But Mizuki was small and tired, barely a teenager, while Shinei was strong, furious, and unrelenting.

“I’m just trying to take care of her!” Mizuki cried out, his voice breaking as Shinei dragged him toward the stairs.

“And I know how to take care of my own daughter,” Shinei snapped, his tone full of superiority.

Mizuki clenched his teeth, his mind racing with the words he wanted to say but couldn’t.

No, you don’t, he thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

At the door, Shinei shoved him out into the cold night. “Goodnight, Mizuki. Tell your mom and Mafuyu thank you,” he said dismissively, his voice flat.

He started to close the door, but Mizuki turned back, his voice trembling.

“What’s Ena’s favorite food?” he demanded, tears threatening to spill.

Shinei paused, narrowing his eyes in irritation. “I know my daughter’s favorite food. It’s anything that has carrots on it,” he said firmly, crossing his arms.

Mizuki’s heart twisted, and a sad, bitter smile tugged at his lips. “It’s cheesecake,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

“She hates carrots. She’s loved cheesecake since we were seven years old.”

Shinei’s expression flickered with something unspoken irritation, maybe even shame but he quickly recovered, his gaze cold.

“Do you even know her?” Mizuki exclaimed, his frustration boiling over.

Shinei stared him down, calm and venomous. “And do you even know yourself?” he said sharply, his words like a knife.

“You can’t even decide if you want to be a boy or a girl. Stay away from my daughter, you—”

He stopped, the hateful word hanging in the air like poison, before slamming the door shut in Mizuki’s face.

Mizuki stood there, trembling, his wrist aching and his heart shattered, the weight of Shinei’s words pressing down on him as he wiped at his tears.

Mizuki knew exactly what he wanted to say to him.

Him.

That was who Mizuki was supposed to be.

Him.

Not the confusion, not the doubts others cast on him. Just… him.

Mizuki had failed.

Failed to protect Ena.

Failed to take care of her.

Failed to stand up for her when it mattered most.

“What did you do?” Ena’s voice murmured through the phone speaker, laced with worry.

Mizuki, holding the phone with one hand and munching on an apple in the other, sang sarcastically, “Good morning, Enanan~. How are you feeling today?”

“Mizuki, this is serious!” Ena’s voice sharpened. “My dad banned me from seeing you! What happened!?”

The apple slipped from Mizuki’s hand, falling silently to the ground. His steps froze. “What!?” he blurted, his voice rising in disbelief.

“So, you had a discussion with her dad, huh?” Mafuyu said, barely glancing up from the homework spread across her desk.

Mizuki flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Unlike his and Ena’s rooms, Mafuyu’s ceiling lacked the artificial glowing stars they had gazed at for years. It felt cold and bare, much like the conversation he was dreading.

“I wouldn’t call it a discussion,” Mizuki muttered, his voice heavy.

Mafuyu paused, setting her pen down. Turning in her chair, she fixed him with a serious look.

“You need to apologize,” she said flatly. “Whatever you think about him or her family doesn’t mean you can act like that. You need to be kind, Mizuki.”

Mizuki bit his lip, struggling with the thought.

“What if they don’t deserve an apology?” he asked quietly, frustration creeping into his tone.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mafuyu replied, her voice steady, emotionless. “Ena deserves to have you in her life. And unless you make an effort with her family, that won’t be an option.”

She closed her notebook with a quiet snap and stood, brushing past him as she left the room.

Mizuki stayed there, staring up at the empty ceiling, hating how right she was.

That night, he stood in front of Shinonome Shinei, forcing the words out. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and strained.

Shinei’s smirk was immediate, smug and infuriating. Mizuki’s hands clenched at his sides as the urge to hit him flared.

But Ena was more important than his pride, more important than anything else. So Mizuki swallowed the anger, held his ground, and let the apology stand. For her.

He needed to protect Ena.

Even if it meant silencing his own voice, even if it meant hiding parts of himself, he would do it.

Because as miserable as it felt to suppress who he was, the thought of a life without Ena was far worse.

Mafuyu’s school was hosting a festival to raise funds for the local community and students, using Valentine’s Day as the theme to attract visitors.

Surprisingly, Mafuyu invited Mizuki and Ena to come and enjoy the day together.

It wasn’t the kind of invitation they heard from her often, given her reserved personality.

“You two better behave,” Mafuyu said, her voice as flat and monotone as ever. Somehow, though, it sounded more like a threat than a request.

Things were surprisingly calm, considering Mizuki and Ena’s knack for causing trouble. Mafuyu spent most of her time helping her classmates organize activities, moving from one task to another with her usual composed efficiency.

Meanwhile, Mizuki and Ena were off somewhere, likely up to no good.

Finally finding a moment for herself, Mafuyu decided to search for them and maybe enjoy the festival at least a little.

But as she turned a corner, she accidentally bumped into a much shorter girl, spilling the cup of water the girl was holding all over her shirt.

Before Mafuyu could react, slightly annoyed, she looked down at the girl and froze.

She had long, silvery white hair and deep, sorrowful eyes that seemed to pull Mafuyu’s attention completely.

“Oh… I’m very sorry,” the girl stammered, frantically trying to pat Mafuyu’s shirt dry with her sleeve.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Mafuyu replied, trying to sound reassuring, though her monotone voice made it come across more distant than intended.

The girl looked even more embarrassed.

“I’m so ashamed. I was looking for a friend who goes to this school, but I got lost…” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and Mafuyu instinctively leaned down to catch her words.

“Who’s your friend? I might know them,” Mafuyu offered, her usual stoicism faltering just slightly.

“Mochizuki Honami,” the girl said quietly.

“Oh, she’s in the class next to mine. I can guide you if you’d like,” Mafuyu said, feeling a faint warmth creep into her cheeks.

“That would be very kind of you,” the girl said with a shy smile. “May I ask your name?”

“Asahina Mafuyu. And you are?”

“Yoisaki K—” the girl began, but before she could finish, a loud crash echoed from nearby, cutting her off.

Mafuyu turned her head toward the noise and instantly spotted the culprits.

Mizuki was sprawled on the ground amid the remains of a collapsed stand, Ena standing over him with an exasperated look.

It didn’t take much to figure out what had happened. They’d clearly been teasing each other, and Ena must have shoved Mizuki too hard, sending him crashing into the stand.

Mafuyu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I should’ve known,” she muttered under her breath, before turning back to the white haired girl. “Excuse me for a moment.”

“I told you two to behave,” Mafuyu said, her tone sharp with irritation as she helped Ena drag a dazed Mizuki toward the infirmary.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Ena shot back, her voice a mix of annoyance and worry. “He kept teasing me and tried to hug me after I got angry!”

Mafuyu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And your solution was to push him into a stand?”

“In my defense, I was a bit annoying,” Mizuki chimed in weakly, attempting to take some of the blame.

His usual smirk faltered as he winced, clutching his side.

Ena grumbled, sparing him a sideways glance. “You deserved it,” she muttered, though the guilt in her eyes betrayed her tough words.

“What happened?” the nurse asked, hurrying over to help the girls settle Mizuki onto the bed.

“He accidentally fell on a stand,” Mafuyu explained, her voice calm but firm.

The nurse nodded, assessing Mizuki’s condition. “Can you take your shirt off, honey? I need to check your back.”

Mizuki froze at her words. His fingers twitched nervously, and a wave of anxiety coursed through him.

He always avoided looking at his chest. It stirred feelings he couldn’t fully understand, feelings that made him uncomfortable. And now, not only would he have to see, but Ena and Mafuyu would be there too.

Ena noticed his hesitation, her brow furrowing in concern. “Mizuki?” she asked softly.

“It’s fine,” Mizuki said quickly, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. His hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, his movements slow and reluctant.

Mafuyu, ever perceptive, caught the unease in his demeanor. She stepped closer, her expression unreadable but her presence steady.

“You don’t have to rush,” she said in her usual monotone, though there was a subtle gentleness to her tone.

The nurse paused, noticing Mizuki’s discomfort. “If you’re not ready, we can take this step slowly. Or, if you’d prefer, I can check over your shirt.”

Mizuki bit his lip, weighing his options. The pressure of the moment pressed down on him, but then he felt Ena’s hand lightly touch his arm.

“Don’t worry, we can turn around,” Ena said softly, her voice careful as her eyes met his with quiet concern.

Mizuki hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the hem of his shirt. With a shaky breath, he pulled it off, his heart thudding loudly in his ears.

He kept his gaze fixed anywhere but on himself. Ena and Mafuyu instinctively turned their attention away, sensing the weight of the moment.

The nurse worked quickly and gently, her fingers probing Mizuki’s back with care.

“It’s just some bruising,” she said with reassurance in her tone. “Nothing serious. I’ll grab an ice pack, and you’ll be fine soon.”

Relief flooded Mizuki as he gave a small nod. The nurse left the room to get the supplies, leaving him with Ena and Mafuyu.

Ena sat beside him, her brows knit with worry even as she tried to lighten the mood.

“You’re tougher than you look,” she said with a faint smile, her teasing voice soft.

Mizuki’s lips quirked up in a small, grateful smile, though his chest felt tight. not from the pain, but from the vulnerability lingering in the air.

“I have to go back and check on the stand you two broke. Stay here until I’m back, okay?” Mafuyu said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument as she walked out of the infirmary.

As the door clicked shut, Mizuki glanced at Ena, a small, mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

“You know, this kind of reminds me of when we first met,” he said, his voice light in an attempt to ease the tension.

“Huh?” Ena tilted her head, intrigued.

“I was crying in the sandbox,” Mizuki began, his tone soft with nostalgia.

“and you came over to help me. But your hands were so dirty that when you touched my face, it stung my eyes, and we had to come to the infirmary.”

Ena blinked before a small laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, right! I remember that day.” She smiled, a hint of fondness in her eyes.

“You were bawling your eyes out, and I thought I was helping, but I just made it worse.”

Mizuki chuckled, leaning back slightly.

“Now that I think about it, I always end up in the infirmary because of you.”

Ena crossed her arms, a playful glint in her expression. “Hey, that’s not my fault! Maybe you’re just naturally accident prone.”

“Or maybe you’re just dumb,” Mizuki teased, grinning.

Ena let out a soft laugh before lightly slapping his arm. “Says the one who can’t stay out of trouble for five minutes.”

“Touché,” Mizuki admitted, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Ena shook her head, but a smile lingered on her lips. “Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve put up with you all these years.”

“Must be my charm,” Mizuki replied with a dramatic wink.

Ena rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the amused chuckle that followed. The mood lightened, the tension from earlier fading as the two fell into the familiar rhythm of their banter.

The nurse returned with the ice pack in hand, her movements gentle as she placed it carefully on Mizuki’s back.

“There we go,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Stay here until you’re feeling better, okay? If anything else feels off, let me know. I’ll be in my office, sweetheart.”

Mizuki nodded, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you.”

The nurse gave them a final look before stepping out, leaving Mizuki and Ena alone again in the quiet infirmary.

Mizuki adjusted slightly, wincing at the cold of the ice but already feeling some relief.

“So… am I forgiven yet?” Mizuki asked, glancing at Ena with an innocent grin, though his voice carried a playful lilt.

Ena raised an eyebrow, leaning her elbow on the edge of the infirmary bed as she stared him down. “Forgiven for what exactly? Being a complete idiot or breaking the stand?”

Mizuki feigned a dramatic gasp. “Wow, I was hoping for a little sympathy here.”

Ena crossed her arms, pretending to think it over. “Hmm, I’ll consider it… if you promise not to annoy me for the rest of the day.”

“That’s impossible, and you know it,” Mizuki teased, flashing his signature grin.

Ena rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Fine. You’re forgiven… only for now!”

Both of them kept chatting and laughing at anything that came to their minds when it was finally time to go. Mizuki slowly with a bit of pain was getting up as Ena helped him. 

“Do you want me to help you put your shirt on?” Ena asked, her voice soft and cautious.

She noticed how much it hurt him to move, but she also didn’t want to push him if it would make him uncomfortable.

Mizuki froze for a moment, his gaze darting nervously around the room.

Being shirtless like this made him feel exposed in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

A heavy, twisting discomfort swirled in his chest, a feeling he’d lived with for so long that it almost felt normal, even though it never stopped bothering him.

He avoided looking down at himself, the sight always stirring that strange, suffocating sensation that made him want to crawl out of his own skin.

Ena’s question hung in the air, and Mizuki’s fingers twitched at his sides.

The idea of letting someone and especially Ena help him felt mortifying, but the ache in his body made him realize he couldn’t do it alone.

After a moment, he exhaled shakily and gave a small, reluctant nod.

“Okay,” Ena said gently, picking up his shirt. She moved carefully, sensing his unease.

As she helped guide his arms through the sleeves, Mizuki focused on the wall, refusing to glance at himself or at Ena.

His stomach tightened with each brush of the fabric, the discomfort clawing at him like an unwelcome presence. Ena didn’t comment or linger, her movements light and deliberate, as though she understood without needing to say anything.

“There,” Ena murmured as she tugged the shirt over his shoulders and let it settle. “All done.”

Mizuki gave a small, tight smile, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks, Ena.”

She hesitated for a second, then smiled back, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. “Don’t mention it.”

Mizuki glanced away, grateful that Ena didn’t ask questions.

The knot in his chest loosened slightly, but that strange, nagging feeling lingered like a shadow, reminding him it was something he couldn’t quite figure out or escape.

“You know,” Ena began softly, her voice carrying a gentle warmth.

“When we were kids, you always wore such cute clothes. You looked so pretty, brighter than anything.”

She turned to Mizuki with a sweet expression, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “I think I even called you a princess more than once back then.”

Mizuki’s face flushed, the memory Ena brought up catching him off guard. He looked away, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as if trying to hide from the conversation.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” Mizuki muttered under his breath, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

Ena tilted her head. “Wasn’t supposed to what?”

“To like it,” Mizuki admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Or to feel… like that. I wasn’t supposed to be happy about it.”

Ena’s smile softened.

“Why not? You were beautiful, Mizuki. You are beautiful. There’s nothing wrong with feeling happy about something that makes you feel like yourself.”

Mizuki’s heart skipped a beat. Himself. He’d spent so long pushing down those feelings, convincing himself they didn’t mean anything.

But hearing Ena say it so simply, so sincerely, made something stir inside him. something he hadn’t let himself acknowledge until now.

“Maybe,” Mizuki murmured, his voice barely audible. “Maybe it wasn’t wrong after all.”

“And it will never be wrong, Mizuki,” Ena said softly, her words like a gentle promise.

She moved a little closer to Mizuki, her presence warm and reassuring. Without hesitation, they shared a soft, sweet kiss, just like they always did. 

It was a kiss filled with the same innocence and care they had always shared for each other, a simple gesture that conveyed all the emotions they couldn’t always put into words.

Both of them were lost in their own world, the moment feeling like it was just the two of them, when suddenly the infirmary door creaked open.

They pulled apart quickly, their hearts racing, only to find Mafuyu standing in the doorway, a neutral expression on her face.

She glanced at them for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

“What did I miss?” she asked, her tone surprisingly calm, though there was a slight amusement in her eyes.

Mizuki’s face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and surprise, quickly looking away from Mafuyu.

“Nothing… just… just checking on each other,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

Ena, on the other hand, gave a sheepish smile, her hand instinctively reaching out to touch Mizuki’s.

“Yeah… just making sure he’s okay,” she added softly, her voice betraying a hint of the warmth that had just filled the room.

Mafuyu stood there for a moment, her gaze flicking between the two of them, before she sighed and shook her head.

She stepped into the room, glancing at Mizuki. “How’s your back? Feeling any better?”

Mizuki shrugged, a little awkwardly. “Yeah, the ice helped. I think I’ll be fine.”

Mafuyu sighed but didn’t push it further. She looked at Mizuki one last time, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you’re okay. Just… don’t go getting yourself hurt again.”

Mizuki nodded, managing a small, grateful smile. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Mafuyu.”

With a final look at the pair, Mafuyu turned and left the infirmary, the door closing softly behind her.

Mizuki and Ena exchanged a quiet glance before both letting out a relieved breath, the tension slowly fading. “Well,” Mizuki said with a soft chuckle, “I guess that was close.”

Ena laughed quietly. “Just a little.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, the comfortable stillness returning between them as they resumed their quiet time together.