invisible string

Mizuki lay sprawled on his bed, his eyes glued to the glowing screen as one of his favorite magical girl shows played.

The soft hum of his laptop filled the quiet room, casting flickering light against the walls.

It was far too late considering he had school the next morning but he didn’t care.

Sleep could wait.

Earlier that day, Ena had stayed for dinner.

She picked at her food, chatting with Mizuki and his family, but it was obvious to him that she was just making up excuses to stay for a bit longer.

Her father was supposed to be coming over that night, and he was the last person she wanted to see and his “Annoying ass” as she liked to say.

Mizuki knew she always seemed more at ease when she was at his house.

He noticed it in the way her shoulders relaxed, how the usual tension in her posture melted away.

And then there was her soft, fleeting, and reserved smile just for him.

It wasn’t the usual smirk she threw at others or the polite grin she gave teachers.

No, this one was different.

It was a smile she only ever showed him.

His dad had invited Ena to stay the night as usual but she declined. “I don’t want him to get more upset,” she said softly shaking her head.

Mizuki knew she wanted to stay and he saw the hesitation in her face. But she left anyway, forcing herself to walk away from that warmth.

Now, hours later, exhaustion filled him up.

His eyelids grew heavier, his body sinking deeper into the mattress. Just a few more minutes, he told himself.

Just until the episode ended…

Thud.

A sharp knock against his window jolted him upright.

For a moment, he froze. His mind scrambled for an explanation. Maybe it was just the wind rattling the glass? Or a bird?

He glanced at the window, half expecting to see the dark silhouette of a stray animal.

Thud.Thud.

This time, the sound came louder. More deliberate.

Mizuki’s drowsiness vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold prickle at the back of his neck.

That wasn’t the wind. And it definitely wasn’t a bird.

Something or someone… was outside his window.

Mizuki was in shock, his heart hammering against his ribs.

His first instinct? Run. Straight to his parents’ room, shake his dad awake, and let him deal with the possible window ghost situation.

But before he could even throw off his blanket, another thud came but this time followed by a voice.

“Mizuki, it’s me. Ena.”

Mizuki blinked. Then blinked again.

Ena?

For a second, he genuinely considered the possibility that he had fallen asleep and was now dreaming. Because why in the world was Ena knocking on his window in the middle of the night like some kind of horror movie protagonist?

Scrambling out of bed and nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, He rushed over and yanked open the curtain.

Sure enough, there was Ena, standing outside in the dim glow of the streetlights, looking equal parts annoyed and exhausted.

Mizuki wasted no time. He fumbled with the lock and shoved the window open.

“Ena? What the heck are you doing? Are you crazy or what to be this late here!?”

Ena rolled her eyes. “Just let me in, idiot.”

Mizuki quickly stepped aside to let Ena in.

She climbed through the window with his help, her movements quiet, practiced like she’d done this before.

Which, to be fair, she had.

Not that it had always gone smoothly.

There was that one time she nearly slipped and Mizuki had to get her before she fell, leaving them both in a tangled heap on the floor.

And another when she miscalculated the distance and knocked over his desk lamp, sending them both into a panic as it crashed to the ground.

But tonight, she moved with the kind of ease that came from familiarity. When she straightened up, dusting off her sleeves, he met her gaze.

“I thought you’d be staying at your house tonight, huh?” Mizuki murmured, his voice softer now. Less teasing, more careful.

Ena didn’t answer right away.

She stood there for a moment, the dim light casting shadows across her face, her arms wrapped around herself like she was holding something in.

Mizuki shut the window gently, locking out the cold night air. Then he turned back to her, watching the way she shifted on her feet, the way she hesitated.

He reached out, fingers brushing against her sleeve. Not pulling, just… there.

“Ena?”

Finally, she looked at him.

Her usual sharp gaze was softer now, tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

“…Didn’t feel like staying,” she muttered, barely above a whisper.

Mizuki nodded like he understood because he did. He didn’t push her for more. Didn’t need to.

Instead of saying anything he just opened his arms offering a hug to Ena. his actions and sweet gestures on his face spoke more than anything.

And that was enough.

As soon as Ena saw Mizuki’s open arms, she didn’t hesitate and she threw herself into his embrace, burying her face in his shoulder as sobs wracked her body.

He felt the warmth of her tears soaking into his shirt, the way her fingers clutched onto him like she was afraid to let go.

“I don’t get it,” she choked out, her voice raw, breaking apart with every word.

“Why does he hate me?”

Mizuki didn’t have an answer. He didn’t want to have one. Because nothing could justify the way her father made her feel all the time.

Shinei made ena feel like she wasn’t enough, like she wasn’t worthy of love or his attention.

So instead of answering, he just held her tighter.

It frustrated him and even hurt him that she had to carry this weight alone.

To him, Ena was the best person in the world.

She was strong, even when she didn’t want to be.

Kind, even when no one seemed to notice.

And she always acted like she didn’t care what people thought, always brushing things off with a smirk and an eye roll.

But Mizuki knew better.

He knew that behind the sarcasm and stubbornness was a heart too fragile for the world around it.

And he wanted to protect that heart.

It had always been Ena taking care of him.

Making sure he ate, scolding him when he missed school, sticking up for him when someone tried to push him around or call him names.

She had always been his shield.

But tonight, he wanted to be the one protecting her.

Mizuki pressed his cheek against her hair, letting his warmth surround her, hoping and even praying that it was enough to make her feel safe.

“I’m here, Ena,” Mizuki whispered, his voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Ena buried her head against his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if she could hold onto the moment itself.

She wanted to believe him, to believe that this warmth, this safety, would never disappear.

“…It’s a promise?” she asked, her voice barely above a breath.

Mizuki didn’t hesitate. “It’s a promise.”

She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the comfort of his words, into the feeling of being held, of not being alone.  

She wanted to believe that this moment would last forever.

Just like Mizuki had always clung to the little promises she made to him.

But promises don’t always last forever.

And this one…

This one didn’t, either.

The soft chirping of birds outside and the gentle glow of morning light filtering through Mizuki’s window stirred Ena from her sleep.

Her body felt heavy, but not in the way it did when she was exhausted.

More like she was cocooned in warmth, wrapped in something safe.

It took her a second to realize whatexactly that warmth was.

Mizuki’s arms were still around her, his grip loose but firm, like even in sleep, he wasn’t ready to let go.

His soft breaths brushed against her hair, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

He was snoring lightly, almost rhythmically, and for once, Ena didn’t find it annoying.

She hated waking up early. Always had.

But waking up like this while held close in an embrace that made her feel like nothing outside this room could touch her made it a little easier for her.

She shifted slightly, her eyes drifting upward, and there they were.

Mizuki’s glowing plastic stars scattered across the ceiling.

Some had started peeling at the edges over the years, but they still shined faintly in the dim light of the morning.

After she had cried herself into exhaustion, they had just laid there, watching those tiny glowing dots, letting the silence speak for them.

Mizuki’s soft, steady breathing had been enough to lull her to sleep.

Now, though, reality was creeping back in.

Careful not to wake him, she slowly moved his arm off of her and sat up, stretching her sore limbs.

Her eyes flickered toward the clock on Mizuki’s nightstand.

10:00 AM.

She exhaled. “Well… there goes school.”

Not that she minded and neither Mizuki.

He had probably planned on not going but he might had an entire mental debate about whether to stay up late watching anime or be responsible.

And here she was, throwing that out the window.

Her throat felt dry, the aftereffects of last night’s crying catching up to her.

She needed water. Quietly, she slipped out of bed, making sure Mizuki didn’t stir as she padded toward the door.

The house was silent, just as she expected. His parents were probably at work, and Yuuki had morning classes.

Ena knew she was welcome here.

More than welcome to be honest.

She wasn’t just Mizuki’s best friend; she was practically family.

His parents treated her with kindness that felt foreign sometimes, like she didn’t quite deserve it.

But she knew they cared.

That was exactly why she wanted to keep last night a secret.

She didn’t want them to know she had climbed through Mizuki’s window at some ungodly hour and worry them.

They had enough to deal with.

Mizuki had enough to deal with.

She wasn’t here to be anyone’s burden.

So, with quiet steps, she made her way to the kitchen, hoping she could shake off the weight pressing down on her chest.

Just as Ena was pouring water into a cup, the sound of someone clearing their throat made her jolt, her grip slipping just enough to send a splash of water spilling into the sink.

She sucked in a sharp breath, heart nearly jumping out of her chest.

“Good morning, Ena,” came a gentle voice.

Ena turned quickly, gripping the cup a little too tightly as she met the soft, knowing gaze of Mizuki’s mother.

She stood by the doorway, dressed neatly for work, her warm smile carrying a quiet understanding that made Ena’s stomach twist.

She had been caught.

Ena forced a small, sheepish smile, trying to play it cool.

“Oh uh, good morning, Mrs. Akiyama. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Mizuki’s mom chuckled as she stepped further into the kitchen. “I could tell.”

She glanced at the sink, where water was still dripping from the cup Ena had nearly fumbled.

“Sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s uh, it’s fine.” Ena quickly wiped her hands on her sleeves, as if that would somehow steady her nerves.

Mizuki’s mom didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched her with that same gentle expression.

Ena had never known how to handle that kind of warmth. It was different from Mizuki’s teasing comfort, different from Yuuki’s casual, sisterly acceptance.

It was the kind of warmth that saw through her, that noticed.

“…Did you sleep well?” Mrs. Akiyama finally asked, her tone light, but the question itself making Ena tense.

She hesitated.

Ena could lie, say she had just come over early in the morning to hang out with Mizuki. But judging by the way his mother was looking at her, that probably wouldn’t work.

“…Yeah,” Ena murmured instead, her fingers curling around the cup. “I did.”

Mizuki’s mom nodded, as if she understood more than Ena was saying.

She walked over to the counter, grabbing a thermos before glancing back at her.

“Mizuki’s still asleep, isn’t he?”

Ena huffed, a bit of tension easing from her shoulders. “Yeah. Snoring like a chainsaw.”

Mrs. Akiyama laughed softly. “That sounds about right.” She paused, then placed a hand lightly on Ena’s shoulder.

“You know, you’re always welcome here, no matter the time.”

Ena swallowed, her chest tightening and not in a bad way, but in that too much warmth, too much kindness kind of way that always left her unsure what to do.

“…Thanks,” she said quietly, looking down at the cup in her hands.

“I don’t know what happened yesterday after you went home,” she said, her voice warm and unwavering, “but our house and family are yours too. We appreciate you and love you as if you were also our daughter, okay?”

Ena swallowed hard, gripping the cup in her hands as if it could ground her.

She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to something so… kind.

Mizuki’s mom gave her a soft, knowing look before adding, “You are worthy of love and affection, Ena.”

The words nearly knocked the air out of her.

She had heard people say things like that before, but it had always felt empty, like something people said out of obligation rather than sincerity.

But this… this was different.

This was real.

Ena bit the inside of her cheek, forcing down the sudden lump in her throat.

She wasn’t going to cry again, she had done enough of that last night. Instead, she just nodded, barely managing a small, shaky smile.

Mrs. Akiyama didn’t say anything else, just gave her shoulder a small squeeze before stepping away.

“I have to head out now, but tell Mizuki he’s on breakfast duty when he wakes up.”

Ena managed a small smile. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

And with that, Mizuki’s mom gave her one last knowing look before heading out the door.

Ena stood there in the quiet kitchen, staring at the cup in her hands, feeling warmth spread through her chest in a way that was unfamiliar…. but not unwelcome.

Spring was coming to an end, and summer was fast approaching.

Each passing day brought warmer weather, the air thick with the promise of long, sweltering afternoons.

Mizuki sat on the floor of the school’s basketball court, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the ground with his finger.

The P.E. teachers had separated the boys and girls for class due to the heat and while the girls got to cool off with swimming lessons at the school pool, the boys were stuck playing basketball under the blazing sun.

He hated P.E. class.

More than anyone else, he was sure of it. Every session, he found new and creative ways to get out of participating.

He would sneaking off to the infirmary, hiding in the bathroom, or, on particularly bold days, slipping away early to go home.

But today, he had no choice. If he skipped again, he’d fail.

Mizuki sighed, kicking a stray pebble with his shoe.

It wasn’t just that he found the sports dull and though he definitely did.

The worst part was how the classes were split by gender, how the boys were always stuck with the boring sports while the girls got to do things that seemed, at the very least, less miserable.

And if he was being completely honest with himself… it wasn’t just boredom that made him uncomfortable.

Running in front of everyone, changing clothes in the locker room…

it all felt wrong in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.

The stares made his skin crawl, like they knew something about him that he didn’t.

He shook the thought away. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

The school had organized a friendly basketball tournament between first and second year students. The first years were pitted against the second years in separate matches.

Mizuki wasn’t worried.

He already knew how these things went, He’d sit on the bench, unnoticed, until class ended.

Or at least, that’s what he thought.

“Mizuki!”

He blinked, looking up at the classmate calling his name.

“Huh? What is it?” he asked, already suspicious and nervous.

“We need you to play with us.”

Mizuki frowned. Him?

“Why?”

“There’s this tall dude on the second year team, and he’s playing against us. You’re tiny and fast, so you can be a distraction.”

Mizuki’s frown deepened.

“So basically… you want me to run around like an idiot while everyone else actually plays?”

His classmate at least had the decency to look a little guilty. “That’s… one way to put it.”

Mizuki sighed, tilting his head back toward the sky in silent suffering.

He had worked so hard to avoid standing out in this class, and now, of all days, they had decided he was useful?

“Can’t you pick literally anyone else?” he tried, gesturing vaguely at the rest of the team.

“Nope,” his classmate said, already grabbing Mizuki’s arm to pull him up.

“You’re our best shot at throwing them off.”

Mizuki groaned as he was practically dragged onto the court.

His only hope now was to survive the game with minimal effort and, hopefully, no injuries.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “But if it gets too heated i’ll leave the game.”

His classmate just laughed, shoving a jersey into his hands.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t trip over your own feet.”

Mizuki stared at the jersey with a grimace, holding it between his fingers like it was something filthy.

It was ugly, cheap and oversized in all the wrong ways, yet somehow still tight where he didn’t want it to be.

He was already skinny enough, but the sleeveless design only exaggerated it, putting his thin, awkward limbs on display.

His arms felt too bare, his shoulders too exposed and as he slipped it over his head, an ugly feeling twisted in his stomach.

He hated this.

Walking toward the court, he instinctively curled in on himself, crossing his arms in front of his body like a shield.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so exposed.

He was fully dressed, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like it.

He felt naked, like every inch of him was wrong, like his skin didn’t quite fit the way it was supposed to.

Then, just as he was trying to steady his breathing, a voice called out.

“Uh, so you are joining us, Akiyama?”

Mizuki froze in place.

One of his classmates was looking at him with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest.

“I thought a princess like you didn’t like this kind of stuff,” he sneered.

“Or maybe you finally got over that weird phase and decided to act like a man for once?”

A few of the other boys laughed.

The sound was sharp and cold, pressing into Mizuki’s skin like tiny needles.

He clenched his jaw, gripping the hem of his jersey.

It wasn’t the first time he had heard something like this and surely won't be the last one, he was used to it.

He didn’t carry himself the way the other boys did, didn’t speak like them, didn’t move like them or dressed like them.

And they noticed.

They always noticed.

He had spent the last few years pretending not to care, brushing it off like it didn’t bother him, but the truth was that it did.

It really did.

Because deep down, he didn’t even knew if they were wrong.

That ugly, nagging feeling that had been following him for as long as he could remember.

The one that made his skin crawl when he looked at his own reflection, the one that made him feel sick when he heard his own voice and it stirred inside him now, a quiet, insistent voice whispering:

They see it. They see through you.

Mizuki swallowed hard, forcing a smile.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” he muttered, pushing past them and stepping onto the court.

The laughter faded behind him, but the feeling remained, lingering in his chest like a heavy weight.

He just had to get through this game.

Then maybe and just maybe he could breathe again.

As the rest of the guys finished getting ready for the match, Mizuki found himself sinking deep into his thoughts again.

One comment, one cruel little jab, and suddenly, his mind became a flood of memories he wished he could forget.

He remembered the whispers behind his back, the teasing that started as small remarks and grew sharper over time.

He remembered how every movement, every word, every choice he made seemed to be wrong.

He remembered the guilt.

The guilt of wanting to wear the clothes that made him feel comfortable.

The guilt of looking in the mirror and seeing someone that wasn’t quite right, someone who never felt like enough.

The guilt of trying and really trying to fit into the role everyone expected from him, only to be told, again and again, that he was still doing it wrong.

No matter how much he changed, no matter how much of himself he hid away, it was never enough.

He had forced himself to stop being who he wanted to be.

He had done it for others.

He had done it for himself, too, hoping desperately that if he just pretended hard enough, the feelings would go away.

That maybe, one day, he would wake up and everything would feel normal.

But it never did.

And it never would.

No matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to blend in, there would always be something off.

Something they could see. Something he couldn’t fix.

A loud whistle snapped him out of his thoughts.

The game was about to start.

The game began, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor filling the air.

The sun bore down on the court, making the heat even more unbearable.

Mizuki barely registered any of it.

He moved automatically, darting across the court as his teammates shouted plays at each other.

His role was simple.

Run around, be a distraction, stay out of the way of the actual game.

Fine. That was easy enough.

But no matter how much he focused on moving, on keeping his breathing steady, the weight in his chest refused to go away.

He hated this uniform.

He hated the way it clung to his body, the way it emphasized parts of him he wanted to disappear.

He hated the way his arms looked, hated the way his voice sounded when he called out to his teammates.

Every little thing made his skin crawl, made him want to shrink away, to cover himself, to be anywhere else but here.

“Oi, Akiyama, wake up!”

Mizuki barely had time to react before the basketball came flying toward him.

Instinctively, he reached out to catch it but the second he did, the tall second year player blocked his view, rushing toward him at full speed.

Mizuki tried to move, but his foot caught against the court, and suddenly he was falling, his body colliding hard against the pavement.

Pain shot through his palms and knees as he scraped against the rough surface, and the ball slipped from his grip, bouncing off toward the other side of the court.

Laughter erupted around him.

“Damn, princess, you okay?”

Mizuki stayed on the ground for a second, his breath caught in his throat.

He could feel their eyes on him watching, judging and mocking him.

The burning sensation in his hands was nothing compared to the sting in his chest.

His hands trembled slightly, stinging from the scrape, but he ignored it, brushing off the dirt clinging to his skin.

“Are you okay?”

Suddenly someone called him, the voice was softer than he expected.

Looking up, he saw the tall second year player standing over him, his expression unreadable.

“I’m fine,” Mizuki muttered, his gaze dropping immediately.

A frustrated sigh came from behind him.

“Man, what was that? You were right there!” his teammate groaned.

Mizuki’s fingers curled into fists. His patience, already thin, snapped.

“Yeah, I know,” he shot back, sharper than he intended.

His teammate scoffed, but before he could say anything else, the second year player spoke up.

“Don’t be too hard on him.” His tone was calm, but firm.

Mizuki tensed. He wasn’t sure if he appreciated the defense or if it just made him feel worse.

His teammate scoffed. “Harsh? Come on, it’s just a game. I’m just saying he needs to pay attention.”

The tall player gave a small shrug.

“Still, doesn’t mean you gotta gang up on him.”

“Gang up on him? He’s the one who can’t play,” Mizuki’s teammate snapped, frustration clear in his voice.

Mizuki gritted his teeth. He wanted to disappear, to sink into the court and never be seen again.

The teammate scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Still, I’m not surprised. People like you can’t play, stupid fagg—”

He never got to finish the sentence.

A sickening crack echoed through the court as a fist collided with his face, sending him stumbling back before he hit the ground hard.

For a second, everything went silent.

Mizuki’s breath caught in his throat as he stared, wide eyed, at the scene in front of him.

The tall second year stood over his fallen teammate, his fist still clenched, his expression unreadable.

The rest of the players froze, the tension thick in the air.

The boy on the ground groaned, holding his face where he’d been hit.

“What the fuck?!” he spat, glaring up at the second year.

The tall player didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look angry, just disgusted.

“Watch your mouth,” he said, voice cold. “Or next time, it won’t just be one punch.”

Mizuki’s classmate lunged at the tall second year, throwing a wild punch.

“Are you also a fag or what!?” he screamed, his voice raw with anger.

Before Mizuki could think, before he could process what was happening, his body moved on its own.

“Stop!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet.

His heart pounded as he rushed between them, arms outstretched, desperate to push them apart before things got worse.

But in the chaos, his classmate’s fist swung wildly missing its intended target and slamming straight into Mizuki’s face.

Pain exploded across his cheek, and for a moment, everything blurred. A sharp ringing filled his ears as he stumbled back, clutching his face.

Shouts erupted around him.

Teachers. Students. The whole P.E. class had rushed over, pulling the two boys apart before anything else could happen.

Mizuki barely registered any of it. His vision swam, his skin burning not just from the hit, but from the sudden rush of attention.

He hadn’t wanted this.

Not the fight. Not the stares.

Not any of it.

Darkness.

That was all Mizuki could see at first.

He tried to open his eyes, but a sharp sting in one of them made him wince.

Slowly, he managed to pry the other open, scanning his surroundings.

The white walls and the faint scent of antiseptic in the air made him realize he was in the infirmary.

Someone must have brought him here after he collapsed on the basketball court.

With a frustrated sigh, he let his head sink deeper into the pillow.

Can there be a single day where I don’t end up in the infirmary?

He shifted slightly, trying to sit up and search for his phone when a voice interrupted him.

“The nurse said you shouldn’t move too fast.”

Mizuki turned his head, startled. Sitting beside the bed was the tall second year student, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Uh? What are you doing here?” Mizuki asked, his voice groggy.

“I brought you here after your classmate accidentally punched you in the face.” The older boy handed Mizuki his phone.

Mizuki took it but frowned. “Shouldn’t you be in the principal’s office or something?”

“Yeah, I’ll go later.” The second year leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head.

“The teachers saw everything, so I’m definitely getting punished.”

Mizuki didn’t respond. His thoughts swirled, tangled up in everything that had happened.

The punch, the fight, the words that still clung to his skin like something sticky and rotten.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“Why did you help me?” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

The second year looked at him, surprised. He hadn’t been expecting that question.

“Because I wanted to,” he answered simply.

Mizuki blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of it.

“I know how it feels to be an outcast,” the second year continued.

“And besides, I could tell from the moment you stepped onto the court that they were picking on you.”

Mizuki lowered his gaze, fingers tightening around his phone.

He wasn’t used to people acknowledging it so plainly. Usually, they either ignored it or pretended it wasn’t happening.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “But… you shouldn’t have. I know how to take care of myself. And besides, I don’t want you getting involved in whatever they have against me.”

The older boy let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Against you? What they have is probably just a serious problem with being comfortable in their own masculinity.”

Mizuki let out a short breath, almost a laugh.

“Or maybe they’re just idiots.”

The second year grinned. “That too.”

“You should stand up for yourself more,” the second year said, his tone firm but not unkind.

“They’re going to keep picking on you if you don’t.”

Mizuki let out a slow breath, his fingers curling into the infirmary bedsheet.

“I don’t need to,” he muttered. “I’ve lived like this my whole life.”

The older boy frowned.

“And you’re just going to keep living like this forever?”

His voice held something close to frustration, but there was no malice in it but only concern.

“You can put an end to this if you actually want to. Besides, we don’t know how far they might go if you just let them keep harassing you.”

Mizuki looked down, his throat tightening. He knew that. Of course, he knew that.

“And besides,” the second year added, softer this time. “You won’t always have someone by your side to stand up for you.”

That part stung the most. Because it was true.

Sometimes, Mizuki felt like a burden… to his family, to Mafuyu, to Ena.

They had always protected him whenever they could, standing up for him when he couldn’t stand up for himself.

And while he was grateful, a part of him was exhausted.

Tired of feeling like something fragile, something that always needed saving.

He wanted to be someone they could rely on too.

Someone strong enough to protect them in return.

But how could he do that when he didn’t even feel real in his own skin? When every reflection in the mirror felt like a cruel joke, a stranger wearing his face?

How could he expect anyone to trust in him when he couldn’t even trust himself or his voice, his body and the way the world insisted on seeing him as something he wasn’t?

It was suffocating. And the worst part was, he didn’t know how to make it stop.

“It was just a suggestion, don’t think too much of it,” The tall guy said as he stood up from the chair.

“If you ever need to talk about this… or anything else you can always find me on the school rooftop between classes.”

Mizuki hesitated for a moment before asking, “May I ask your name?”

“Kamishiro Rui,” he answered with a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Mizuki.”

Before Mizuki could say anything else, his phone started vibrating uncontrollably on the bed.

He glanced down to check it, and by the time he looked up again, Rui was already gone.

Sighing, he answered the call without checking the caller ID.

“Yes?”

“YOU GOT INTO A FIGHT?!” Ena’s voice exploded from the other end.

Mizuki let out a soft smile. “Yeah, but it wasn’t my fault.”

“I leave you alone for one hour and you end up in a fight and in the infirmary. I swear I need to be there protecting you 24/7.”

Mizuki chuckled. “Ha ha ha, you know I can take care of myself, right?”

“Ah… I’m not so sure about that,” Ena teased.“Remember when you couldn’t even sleep in the dark?”

“Shut up,” Mizuki muttered, embarrassed.

Ena laughed before asking, “Where are you right now?”

“Still at school,” Mizuki said. “Want to hang out at my place later?”

“I’d love to, but I have art class today. Need to finish my final project.”

“Mm, I see,” Mizuki hummed. “Then make sure to at least pass by when your class is over.”

“Oh? Are you that eager to see me?” Ena teased playfully.

Mizuki smirked. “Forget it, I’ll just call Mafuyu instead.”

“WAIT, NO! DON’T CALL MAFU—”

Mizuki hung up with a laugh, feeling just a little lighter than before.

“Mafuyu~!” Mizuki called out, waving enthusiastically as he spotted her.

Mafuyu was waiting for the streetlight to turn green, she turned her head surprised at the sound of his voice.

Her eyes landed on him, and after a brief pause, she sighed already bracing herself for whatever nonsense he was about to drag her into.

“You seem way too happy for someone who just got into a fight,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow as he jogged up beside her.

Mizuki grinned sheepishly. “Ena already told you?”

Mafuyu simply nodded, arms crossed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“But you still love me, right?” he teased, leaning in slightly.

She rolled her eyes, but the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

“Where’s Ena?” Mafuyu asked in her usual monotone voice, barely glancing at him.

“She has art classes today,” Mizuki replied, rocking on his heels.

“Apparently, she’s working on her final project, so…”

“So I’m your second choice to annoy for the day?” Mafuyu deadpanned.

“Don’t be mean, Mafuyu,” Mizuki pouted, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. Only his friends ever got to see this side of him.

He shifted slightly before continuing, “I was wondering if you’d like to hang out with me today at my place. We could study together if that’s okay with you.”

Mafuyu looked at him, expression unreadable as always, but Mizuki could tell she was considering it.

“I can’t today,” Mafuyu said, glancing at Mizuki to gauge his reaction. “I need to go home and study for my simulation exam for cram school.”

“Oh… I see.” Mizuki’s voice wavered slightly, laced with disappointment he tried to suppress.

He quickly forced a smile, slipping his usual mask back into place.

“Don’t worry about it! Let’s just hang out another day and with Ena too.”

He said it casually, like it didn’t bother him, like it didn’t matter.

But Mafuyu caught the slight hesitation in his voice, the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve.

Mafuyu exhaled softly, shifting her gaze back to the streetlight as it turned green.

She stepped forward, expecting Mizuki to follow, but when he didn’t, she stopped and turned back to face him.

“You’re not going home yet?” she asked.

Mizuki shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll just wander around for a bit before heading back.”

His voice was light, almost too nonchalant, but his hands were still clenched at his sides.

Mafuyu hesitated for a moment, considering just heading home, but the sight of Mizuki with his uneasy expression and the fresh bruises from the fight made her pause.

He wouldn’t say it outright, but she could tell he didn’t want to be alone.

“Why don’t we grab some ice cream and walk home together?” she suggested, her voice as even as ever. “I can’t stay long, but we can talk for a bit.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened slightly at her words, caught off guard.

He had expected her to leave because Mafuyu was always the type to stick to her plans and do what she was supposed to.

But here she was, offering to stay, even if just for a little while.

He hesitated for a moment before a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from studying.”

Mafuyu shrugged, already turning on her heel.

“I can spare a few minutes. Besides, you’ll just sulk if I leave you alone.”

Mizuki let out a soft chuckle, catching up to walk beside her.

“You know me too well.”

The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement.

As they reached a small convenience store, Mafuyu glanced at him.

“What flavor?”

Mizuki hummed, pretending to think deeply. “Mmm… maybe strawberry.”

Mafuyu raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say strawberry was boring last time?”

Mizuki grinned. “Yeah, but I’m in the mood for boring today.”

Mafuyu shook her head but didn’t argue, grabbing two ice creams from the freezer and handing one to him.

As they stepped back outside, Mizuki took a bite and let out a satisfied sigh.

“See? Sometimes boring is good.”

Mafuyu hummed in response, taking small, precise bites of her own.

As they walked, Mizuki glanced down at the faint bruises still lingering on his arms.

He knew she had noticed them too.

Mafuyu wasn’t the type to say much, but she always noticed.

Maybe that’s why she stayed.

Maybe that’s why, despite everything, he always felt a little lighter when she was around.

Mizuki was grateful for the friends he had.