Cheriipetal

She wanted that feeling—the one that she saw that day. So, she chased it in her own way with her art. Back then, she didn't know that envy could look so much like admiration.

Over the years, she improved her artistic capabilities. Her room had a paint aroma to it; canvases filled the walls, showing her progress. She also earned numerous accolades: a ribbon from when she earned first place in a local youth art competition, pinned to her bulletin board until it slipped off; a scholarship exhibition in high school—honorable mention, then best in show the following year.

Each time, her parents framed the certificates; each time, teachers would congratulate her; and each time, Phainon would hug her and say, “I'm so proud of you.”

And yet, she felt nothing.

She sat on the edge of the bed, darkness surrounding her. The only light source was the streetlights that reached her bedroom. Her eyes were blank, staring at all of the framed certificates, her achievements. She waited for the warmth, the excitement, the feeling that all of her efforts were worth it. Nothing came. If she had done something different, or if she had just picked anything other than art, would the outcome be different? Would she feel just as much passion as Phainon did?

That summer, she declined all of the art school offers. She took the exams, passed them, and enrolled in pre-med instead. If she wasn't satisfied with anything in art, why would she even continue it? If she isn't passionate about anything, she can at least have a job that can help others.

She barely spoke to Phainon as university was around the corner. She had stayed in her room, her body heavy against the bed, surrounded by piles of rubbish she couldn't be bothered to clean up. He would call and text, even go to her front door but he eventually stopped reaching out when she ignored him time and time again.

When the semester began, they landed at the same university. Though their departments were at opposite ends of the campus, [Name] would see him around; even if the university was large, it didn't mean paths wouldn't cross.

“[Name]?” She heard someone call out to her. She stopped a moment before she turned to see Phainon standing at a distance. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes softened. He made his way to her. He grabbed her wrist, as if to stop her from ignoring him again.

“Where—where were you all summer? You haven't texted or called. You know you can talk to me, right?” His voice was strained and tight.

“I know.”

“And why haven’t you?”

Because I’m a coward.

She hesitated and said, “I was busy with painting, to add more to my portfolio.”

“But you changed to pre-med.”

It wasn’t a surprise, despite looking rather oblivious—Phainon was always observant. She couldn't suppress the twitch of guilt and shame in her gut.

“I was also studying for the entrance exams. I have to keep my options open.”

It sounded like an obvious excuse to hide the real reason for her avoidance. It was in [Name]’s favor that Phainon didn't call her out on her bullshit right away.

Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, his hand moving from her wrist onto her hand. “I don't want us to drift apart even more. I’m sorry if I acted irrationally—it’s just that I’m worried.”

[Name] looked down on their hands. His were warm, calloused by the years of dribbling and shooting. She wondered if he could feel how cold hers were.

“You don't need to worry about me.”

“Too late. I already do.” he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “That's kind of what happens when you love and care about someone. You want to make sure they are well and safe.”

Do you really think that way?

“...I'm fine,”

“You're not, though.” He tilted his head, trying to make her look at him. “You won't look at me. You've barely looked at me since we talked.”

She forced herself to meet him. It was a mistake. His eyes were the same as always—bright and filled with unbearable sincerity.

“See?” His voice was soft. “There you are.”

But Phainon knew how to please people, knew how to say the right things. It was almost working. Almost. She knew him long enough to be able to see past it.

“I don't know what you want me to say.”

“The truth would be a good start.”

Her throat tightened. The truth. That she had spent the entire summer hiding, because she was afraid that her ‘passion’ that she strived for almost her whole life wasn't cut out for her? That she'd thrown away not because it was feasible, but because she couldn't stand being mediocre at the one thing she wanted to be great at and that she couldn't feel anything for it.

“I told you,” she pulled back her hands gently, “I was busy.” she stepped away from him.

Phainon’s hand stilled before he let his hands fall to his side. “You were busy. For three months. Too busy for a single text or call.”

“...yes.”

“I used to think you were overwhelmed with university and choosing your career. But now…” he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Now, I think you’re just pushing me away. Did I do something wrong?”

I'm the problem, you're never the problem.

“I wasn't— you didn't—”

“Then prove it.” His voice cracked just slightly. “Talk to me. Please. Just don't say you're busy—I know there's more to it than that.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Stuck in her throat. What was she supposed to say? That she envied him? That every accomplishment that he had made her felt worse because she didn't have the same passion as he did? That seeing him knowing what he wants to do makes her feel like an imposter?

“Phainon!” The shout came from across them. “Coach has been waiting for you!”

Her eyes drifted to where the sound came from. He had light strawberry-blond hair with red ends, and he was coming towards them. Mydei.

Phainon didn't turn around immediately. His eyes still locked on [Name]. Searching for something she wasn't sure how to give.

“We’ll continue this later,” He said finally, those were his last words to her before heading to Mydei. He paused after a single step, he looked over his shoulder “Please don't disappear again,”

Then they headed off together. Mydei clapped Phainon's shoulder, muttering something about a tournament, and neither of them said goodbye. She guessed it must've been important then.

She stood there for a while, long after the two had left. Her hands were still shaking a bit. [Name] didn't know why she was so tense over one conversation. But then again, conflict, for her, was a language she never learned to handle—so she answered it only by leaving.

🌆

The conversation didn't continue, much to [name]’s delight. The basketball team had an upcoming tournament—which meant the eventual confrontation was delayed, for now. Knowing Phainon, he wouldn’t let this drag further.

Speaking of him.

A notification appeared on her screen. His name. It had been a while since she last read his messages instead of swiping them away like she had done all summer. This time, she opened it.

The last message that was sent came from her: See you then.

She stared at the three words, she wished she could have said something that felt sincere, something that deserved his patience and kindness. Maybe an apology for her negligence. But she only found herself with flat, washed-out words that could not replicate what she thought of—because [Name] was a painter, not a poet.

Phainon hadn't seen the message, he must've been called to practice. She turned off her phone, slipped it into her bag, locked the doors with her keys, and then headed to class.

🌆

Each footstep that she took echoed through the hallway. It was unusual for her dormitory to be so quiet, she was used to hearing the boisterous voices or ruckus footsteps that would make her head strain. In this moment it felt at peace. Somewhat. But [Name] knew in her experiences—that peace was always followed by conflict.

Her hand had touched the door knob. But every inch that she rotated it felt off. Something felt wrong. Was it the air? It did feel colder than usual. She heard a ruckus inside her dormitory. Did someone break in? She let go of the door knob and was about to grab her phone and contact authorities. Until, she heard a familiar voice. Soft and gentle.

Phainon?

Why was he here? Shouldn't he be in Styxia? Before she could even make the decision of entering or getting help. Someone opened the door.

She had been right, it was Phainon. And yet, it felt like a lie on her tongue. He wasn't wearing his normal casual clothes—his usual disastrous color combinations nor the clothes that his friends pick for him—but some sort of fantasy world cosplay? It was a knight or maybe, an angel. It had scratches and dirt on it, like he actually wore it on a regular basis.

And the height. He was so tall, his head almost bumped the doorframe if he weren't bending slightly. Did he wear platform boots for this cosplay?

[Name]’s eyebrows furrowed, her eyes shifting from his feet to his face. Her mouth slightly opened from shock and wanted to ask so many questions. She saw his eyes visibly soften, like he was relieved maybe. His fingers seemed to twitch as if wanting to reach her, but he stammered.

Though he changed his mind, too desperate or curious. He then grabbed her wrist but he didn't hurt her, it was as if to check her pulse instead of preventing her from ignoring him. His breath hitch, like he had seen a ghost.

“[Name].” His hand squeezed her wrist just slightly like she was gonna disappear at any moment. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” She repeated, “Why are you here? This is my dorm that you broke into!” [Name] hadn't meant to raise her voice but the strangeness of it all startled her.

“I didn't mean to.”

“Oh? So you just so happen to accidentally walk in and snoop through my stuff?”

“I didn't know it was your room.”

“Then how did you get inside then?”

“I…” He faltered, his gaze dropped to where he was holding her wrist. He releases it slowly, almost reluctantly. When he looked up again, his soft and confused expression turned into something practiced.

“Sorry, you're right. That was weird for me.” He stepped back, running his hand through his messy white hair.

[Name] crosses her arms, trying to calm herself down. “Why aren't you in Styxia for your tournament?”

There were a few moments of silence before Phainon spoke out. “Okay, you got me.”

She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. “Got you how?”

“I wasn't supposed to be back until next week. The tournament ended early. I wanted to surprise you.”

She stared at him. It sounded like he'd do. He was impulsive and compassionate. But… something was off. What kind of tournament just ended early unless it was cancelled or your team lost? And he didn't look upset at all. If anything, he just looks desperate but not for a win.

Even if she wasn't into sports, she had gone to art competitions before. She wasn't completely ignorant—what he said was a lie.

“Then why didn't you just text me? Or knock? Why did you break in?”

“Because I'm an idiot,” he said, his voice was low and warm. The way Phainon always got when he was caught doing something stupid. It was his way of easing someone, charming them to let their guard down. “I lost my keys. And my teleslate died on the way back.”

Teleslate? The word was odd. It was something that would only be used if you got tasked to only speak in old Amphoreus language, but she barely was able to ask more questions before he continued.

“I just wanted to see you. To cheer me up from the awful experience on the way back here.” he took a small step closer. “I wanted to sneak into your room to surprise you… you know, how I used to hide in your room whenever your father would give us a break from how much I cling to you.”

He didn't know if she was exactly like his [Name]. The picture frames on the walls of her room told him that this [Name] had lived a different life, in a place that isn't exactly the Amphoreus that he knows. But she did recognize him. The way she looked at him was the same—albeit more startled. More frightened.

He just hoped that his experiences with his [Name] was the same as this one.

And this could also be an illusion that was built from his memories or perhaps his wish—his wish that she'd be safe in a world where the Titans and the black tide were a distant memory.

But something in him tells him that this was all real.

She stared at him. The tension of her arms didn't relax but it shifted from confusion to something he can't quite name.

“Yeah…” she slowly loosened her arms. “You used to do that. Dad almost caught you too… a lot of times actually,” A pause, her eyes narrowing slightly. “and why are you using an old word like teleslate? Did you bump your head as well on the way back?”

“Something like that,” his laugh, genuine unlike what he has been doing in this whole conversation. It made her heart stammer a bit even with her suspicions. “The trip was longer than I expected. I’m not feeling quite well.”

“Then you should've gone to the nurse's office than ‘surprise’ me here,” she said flatly. “Seriously, I know that you wanted to talk again in person but this is too much even for you.” Stepping back, putting distance between them.

She gestured to her room—The one that he'd manage to break in despite her being sure that she locked everything up with precautions.

“Go to your dorm if you're tired or go to the nurse if you actually are sick. I have a lot going on and I can't deal with whatever this is.”

Phainon didn't move. The playful mask slipped, revealing the exhaustion beneath for once. He really didn't expect her to react this way. He understood why she would—but [Name] wasn't like this. She wouldn't push him away.

“... Right,”

He should go. Every rational part of him knew that. He might say or do something that will make her call security—or worse, make her not trust him forever, tainting his chance with being her again, if this really was [Name].

But his heart and body didn't obey.

“Phainon. I'm serious, you're creeping me out.”

He was making this worse.

“Okay, I'll go.”

He stepped away from her, his eyes darting to the nearest exit. Phainon didn't look back at her. He couldn't. If he saw her again—alive and real. He wouldn't leave.

“I'm glad you're okay,” he said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him. “That's all I ever wanted to see.”

Then he left.

[Name] stood still. Her heart was pounding, she can't tell the reason why. She recalled his last words to her. “I'm glad you're okay” she looked at the opened door of her dorm. Empty.

Why wouldn't she be okay?

She shook her hand, irritated. What was up with Phainon? He was caring and compassionate and the next he was weird, creepy, and a liar.

She was starting to think that the man that she talked to wasn't Phainon.

🌆

Once Phainon stood outside, he knew where he was. The Grove. His eyes flickered to every area in his proximity.

If this was the Grove, and [Name] was here. Professor Anaxa would be here too. He didn't know who else he could trust in this world. This world's Mydei, maybe, but he must be somewhere—Castrum Kremnos, probably—but Phainon needed answers now and not later.

Although some buildings were different, its structure remained unchanged. His feet carried him to a route that wore into his muscle memory. As he passed by students, they whispered something unintelligible but unmistakably about him.

He briefly greeted them with a smile before turning away.

The classroom was mostly the same. Inside, almost everything was right. But as he stepped further in the room and looked more closely at the map on the wall, a cold dread tightened in his gut. The coastline was right—so close that his mind almost accepted it—but the cities were misnamed, misaligned, some missing entirely. The chill spread further down his arms despite the warm afternoon. Focus, he told himself. Everything might be answered if he just found—

His eyes drifted back to the other side of the room and saw someone alone surrounded by the empty desks.

But just like everything else, Professor Anaxa wasn't the one that he knew.

He looked more closely at Anaxa's face, he had no eye patch. His clothes were like the rest of the students here. Only the unkept cascade of long hair and the same blank expression remained, the only thing connecting this stranger to the man he knew.

He had come here for a guide. He'd woken up in an altered version of Amphoreus, he had no context or history to understand it all. But he was certain that something was fractured. If anyone can help him or piece together what this place was, it was the man who had been his mentor for decades.

‘Professor’ Anaxa noticed Phainon, his eyes held no surprise, only annoyance. It was deprived of the unconventional but not unkind challenge Phainon remembered.

“Why are you here again?” The words came flat and unimpressed, “Did [Name] ignore you again? I told you. Stop trying to force a conversation with her if she is clearly uncomfortable with it.”

He had no clue what Anaxa was talking about, he had no memories of talking to him before. But even this scolding gave him an answer. There is another version of him in this mirrored world, and had been making a mess of things.

At least he had some idea on what his other version's relationship with [Name]. Maybe this was the reason why she was shutting him down and distancing herself earlier.

After a long pause, Anaxa sighed and continued with a humorless edge in his voice. “And I finally thought it was over when you said you two talked properly this time.”

Phainon feigned a weary tone. “I know, you're right. I shouldn't have pushed.”

“What did you do this time to make her run from you again?” Anaxa leaned back, crossing his arms. “Did you track her down again? Wait outside her dorm like some tragic stray?”

“I didn't track her down, well I kind of did but I didn't mean to.” Phainon said sheepishly. “I came here to… clear my head. And I thought maybe you could help.”

Anaxa's eyebrows arched. “Help with what, exactly? You've been hearing what I've said to you but never actually listened and understood. You nod, you apologize, try to talk to her, but you go back right where you started. It is a cycle, Phainon.”

A flicker of unease filtered him—distant and yet uncannily familiar. This world's Phainon was trapped too. But according to what Anaxa had said, the difference was, this one built his own cage.

“I don't want it to be a cycle.” Phainon said, choosing his words carefully. “I'm trying to understand. Not just her. Everything here. Can't you feel it too? It feels off, doesn't it?”

Silence filled the room for a few moments. Had he come out as too desperate?

It was a small thing—Anaxa's eyes, which had been half-lidded with boredom, sharpened with interest. Focused. For a moment, he wasn't looking at his “friend” who had been pestering about a girl for the past months but something else entirely. Phainon was different today. Usually, he'd hunch when Anaxa lectured him, like a kicked dog waiting for the next blow. But at this moment, he seemed eerily composed and unaffected. Phainon's eyes kept drifting towards the map on the wall, he had been in this room dozens of times, and yet he was strangely fixated on the map this visit.

Anaxa had an inkling that Phainon wasn't trying to change the topic or distract him this time. He was actually serious.

“Off,” Anaxa repeated. Drawing the word out. He titled his head. “There's not anything that is off here, besides you—especially with that peculiar costume—but I digress.”

A slight smile visible from the corners of Anaxa’s mouth, not with warmth but with fascination. “You said the world feels off, elaborate. What specifically feels wrong?”

Phainon needed to answer carefully, or it might backfire like it did with her. “The Grove,” his hands gesturing towards the outside of the room. “It's the same, but the details are so wrong. Buildings that I don't remember.”

Anaxa didn't reply yet, he only nodded, signalling that Phainon should continue.

“It’s not just that as well. On the map—there's cities that I don't remember and some that I even know are gone. Like someone built everything from a half-remembered dream or mixed up a few things.”

Anaxa didn't waver, “Fascinating. And when did you notice these… discrepancies?”

“Since I got here.”

Anaxa hums. “You’re a freshman who's only been here for what…a few months? The Grove has always been like this since the university's foundation. With a few adjustments last school year, but nothing too major.”

“Unless… you’re referring to the old Amphoreus.”

The old Amphoreus?

Phainon froze and hadn't replied, the only audible response he gave was his breath hitching frantically. His eyes focused on the man standing before him who seemed to be both amused and fed up with him—but nonetheless Anaxa continued the conversation.

“You should know what I mean by that. Either you haven't paid attention to the history of our world since elementary or you have some concussion that you haven't checked out.” he sighed.

Phainon’s mind raced. There weren't any lessons of the ‘old’ Amphoreus when he was still a student in the Grove. He had no idea what it meant. But it was a potential answer for this world.

He was right to go to ‘Professor’ Anaxa.

🌆

[name] had spent the last twenty minutes tearing her dorm apart.

Drawers were open, closet rifled, she even searched under her bed only to find dust. What had Phainon seen? Had he taken something? Had he left something?

Nothing. Everything was still in fact, perfectly still from the moment she left earlier. Her papers, textbooks on the table, and her clothes were still in the closet. The adrenaline drained with a shaky breath. She had no one to go to with this problem, not a single friend. She'd spent the entire semester keeping people at arm's length.

Should have talked to someone. Should have—

Her eyes caught on the wall.

A red cube particle that pulsed against the plaster. like a dying heartbeat, like an infection inflicting the paint. There was a distortion surrounding it faintly. It radiated heat despite the room being cold.

She should have been afraid. Instead, she felt a numbing curiosity made her get closer. Her hand lifted, her fingers brushed the cube.

Her hand fractured.

There was pain. Her skin broke into a cascade of red geometric shapes, her fingers visible through the distortion, glitching in and out like a corrupted video. She snatched her hand back with a shout, cradling her hand against her chest. The glitching stopped, her hand whole again.

“What the fuck—”

The red cubes shrank, it contracted itself until there was nothing left. The wall was blank. She started at the spot where it had been. Slowly cautiously, she reached out pressing her fingers ever so slightly against the plaster. Nothing happened. It was normal.

It reminded her of the countless history lessons, the history that was driven into people’s memory. The black tide. It was one of the most prominent problems in the old Amphoreus. it consumed everything it touched, that spread across lands, corrupted people, ending people's lives.

Phainon had been in this room. Had he brought it with him? He was strange the moment that [Name] saw him—clothes that he usually would not wear, behavior that was too off to be the old friend she had spent decades with. Maybe she had been right. That hadn't been the Phainon that she knew.

What, then? A shape shifter? A simulation? No, she could remember the grip that he had on her wrist. The read particle though—that was something else. It didn't belong here just like the ‘Phainon’ she met earlier. And if he had brought it here, then he had answers.

He hadn't understood then how deeply that promise would haunt him. Now, every stray breeze carrying a familiar scent, every flicker of movement at the corner of his vision sent his heart aching.

He'd turn, half-expecting to see you smirking at him, only to find nothing but empty air. It was ridiculous. Pathetic, even. But he couldn't stop himself from wanting you to be by his side again.

The numbness after Amphoreus had been a mercy at first. Feeling nothing was better than feeling everything all at once—the guilt, the grief, the crushing weight of all the things he should have said, should have done.

The Trailblazer's antics were the only thing that ever made him feel warm again, their reckless energy so much like yours that it hurt. Sometimes, when they grinned a certain way or made some absurd joke, Phainon had to look away at times.

He'd started to wonder if you'd planned it. If somewhere beyond the stars, you'd pulled strings to make sure he wasn't alone. The thought was equal parts comforting and infuriating—of course you'd still be meddling, even after everything.

Then came the Astral Express.

The moment he stepped aboard, time itself seemed to stutter. There you were, leaning against the parlor car's doorway, alive and whole and real, arguing animatedly with someone.

"[Name]?" His voice cracked. He didn't care.

You turned. Your eyes widened that someone called out your name, an unfamiliar voice. For one suspended heartbeat, the universe held its breath.

Then you smiled, bright as supernova. "Have we met before?"

“That’s probably the family that bought the lot,” Rin heard his older brother’s voice looming behind him. He looked at Sae, trying to see what he felt about this, but he had that unreadable expression like always.

The younger shook his head, clearing his thoughts away, trying to hide the strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “I… don’t care. They’re just gonna be NPCs to me,” he muttered, feigning indifference and moving away from the window, rushing toward the TV.

He turned curious and looked toward his brother, who was still observing the new neighbors.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the course of days, Rin couldn’t help but just peek over the window more often than he’d like to admit. He’d spot you playing on the front porch, sometimes with a stuffed toy in your hands.

“She’s just a neighbor,” Rin told himself firmly, shaking his head. “Nothing special.”

But his eyes still wandered to your front porch with pots of blooming colorful flowers whenever he thought no one was watching. He noticed how you often went out with your dad, your laughter echoing through the air.

“Rin!” Sae yelled during one of their practice drills, pulling him out of his thoughts.

The younger Itoshi panicked and shot the ball straight to the net, which was blocked by the goalie. Rin felt his heart beating as he missed the shot.

His breath heavy and panting, his teal eyes scanning his brother, who had an unreadable expression as usual.

“What’s up with you lately?” Sae suddenly asked, his hand glued to his hip.

“Huh?” Rin asked, trying to play it cool.

“It’s like you’re in la-la land. You’ve been in your head lately,” the older Itoshi said with nonchalance, but there was a tint of concern in it.

Silence was the only answer Rin replied with. He felt even more embarrassed by his older brother’s comment and an immense weight on his shoulders. He hated how Sae could always read him, hated how he wasn’t able to stay focused like his older brother does.

“I’m fine,” Rin mumbled, finally answering.

Sae didn’t press any further, but for the rest of the day, Rin wasn’t feeling himself. He couldn’t shake off the feeling, and it boiled every minute. He felt angry, but at what exactly? Himself? Nii-chan? Or you?

They arrived home, Sae went ahead. Rin remained static, wanting to let out all the frustration that was building up. The ball he was gripping in his hands bounced off of the pavement as he dropped it.

He then mustered all of his strength into the kick. He didn’t know what he was aiming at, but he just wanted to hit something. The ball bounced off the wall as expected, but it curved sharply in the direction behind him.

Rin turned around to follow where it was heading, but then it was going at your house at full speed. His gaze scanned if you were there, and to his disappointment, you were. Normally he felt happy seeing you, but at this moment, he wanted you to go inside.

The ball landed on the cup of milk, splashing it on your toy that you always carried. He felt frozen in place. Rin did what Sae always taught him to do if he got in trouble.

“Run and don’t look back,” and he did just that.

His legs moved as fast as they could and bolted for the ball. Rin’s eyes looked at you almost instinctively. He could see your face—your eyes widened and your jaw dropped like you were witnessing a crime happening. Once he grabbed the ball, he ran like he never did before and went to his home.

The shutting of the door was loud as he closed it, which caused Sae to peek over to see what was happening.

Rin felt his heart beating every moment. It wasn’t a good thrill like he felt when watching horror movies.

“What happened—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rin said, heading to his room. His hands were still gripping the ball that had the stain of the milk.

Today was a disaster.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next few days he stopped peeking over the window, there was a chance they might make eye contact. He felt the whole world was watching him.

Whenever he saw you outside he’d hurriedly hide like you were the killer on the loose. Rin didn’t know what to do— he couldn’t ask Sae for help, he’d just tease him about it and it would make him a loser in front of him.

He arrived at school, making his way over to his classroom and sat on a seat near the window. Rin had his head on his desk, still not getting over that incident— he prayed nothing else would happen.

But, of course, it did.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted you. Rin recognized that unmistakable hair color caught his attention immediately. You were walking in his direction, He tried to hide his face with his arms but that clearly didn’t work since you were still going straight at him.

The younger Itoshi just braced for what you were about to say. His mind went blank as you kept asking him to apologize and then you mentioned someone named Ms. Moe? Oh, it was your stuffed toy.

Rin just kept denying everything, not wanting to take responsibility and being found guilty.

He went home that day feeling even more worse, Rin just gave up and went to his older brother for guidance.

“Mom and Dad are going to be mad at you for messing with the new neighbour,” Sae said without looking up from his book. His tone was flat, but there was an edge of amusement in it.

“It’s not a big deal,” Rin grumbled.

“Not a big deal? You’re gonna get arrested,” Sae said, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

Rin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah. There’s a law,” Sae continued, barely suppressing a smirk. “If you mess up someone's toy, you have to replace it. If you don’t, the police will come and take you away.”

Rin stared at him, horrified. Sae wasn’t joking. He never joked, Rin thought to himself.

“...Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Sae deadpanned.

To anyone they would’ve thought Sae was a big fat liar and just said that because he wanted to mess with him but to Rin— his brother was telling the truth since Rin always believed him.

And with that Rin rummaged with his toy box searching for anything in value most of it were just action figures and toy cars.

His eyes fell on an owl plushie that he loved, it was his favorite. It was the only stuffed toy that he had and the other toys didn’t seem like you would like them. It was one of his favorites— but he couldn’t risk getting arrested.

He came to the decision and put it in his school bag along with a mini toy house and a toy car for good measure.

Rin ended up apologizing to you the next day, even when it felt ego crushing for him. You had a wide smile on your face after he gifted you the apology gifts. He felt that unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest again, and this time, it wasn’t unpleasant. Rin forgot his embarrassment as you looked at the plushie.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Rin learned your name from the teacher calling it out for checking attendance. L/N Y/N. He didn’t know why it stuck to him. He’d never cared about someone else’s name before this.

You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you. He didn’t want to care, but there you were— always at the edge of his mind.

School was boring as ever, the lessons felt endless, the teachers were obnoxious, and the other kids were nothing but noise. Rin had always thought it was a waste of time.

But lately, school didn’t feel so intolerable. It wasn’t just the subjects or the lunch breaks— it was you. You’d started talking to him and Rin found himself answering back, he didn’t know why.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N always seemed to find him during recess or after school (obviously since they live right across the street from each other), chatting about things that he didn’t even make a thought about.

Sometimes, you’d pull him into games with your other friends, even though he said he didn’t like them. Somehow, you’d always made it fun for him.

Rin would never call you a friend— just a person that he tolerated and would never leave him alone. But he didn’t mind it as much as he would.

“Y/N, watch this!” The dark-green haired boy called out one noon, holding up his two action figures.

You turned your attention towards him, and Rin felt a spark of satisfaction.

He rammed his two action figures together like they were in an epic battle, mimicking the sound effects and dramatic crashes. But it was short lived—

Crack!

The two of you froze, staring at the toys now broken in half at the torso.

He shrugged it off, tossing the pieces on the ground aside. “They always break,” he muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of moving on, you crouched on the floor and began picking up the broken pieces.

“What are you doing? Just leave them,” Rin said flat but in an almost annoyed way.

“But these are your favorite toys, right? You can’t just leave them behind! Have you ever seen Toy Story?”

“No,” he simply replied, “what’s that?”

And that made you silent for a moment, then your face formed into shock, as if he just admitted guilty to a crime. You went closer to him which made him flinch a little by the proximity, “You have to come over to my house to watch it tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright! Don’t get too close,” Rin scolded, pushing you gently, suddenly aware of their closeness.

You grinned at him, that same bright smile you always had. And Rin felt a strange tug on his chest again— he still wasn’t getting used to it, but it was like his heart was telling something, he didn’t want to understand it.

Why did you always have to smile like that?

That weekend, Rin did end up going to your house. You lived right across the street, so it wasn’t much trouble getting here.

Standing outside, Rin glanced at your front door, hesitating before ringing the doorbell. Seconds later, the door opened, and he saw your mother walking out.

“You must be Mrs. Itoshi’s youngest kid!” Your mother warmly said, her voice is kind and soft. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you lately. Sounds like you two are getting along, maybe you should invite your brother to play with her as well,” Mrs. L/N suggested.

“Good morning, Mrs. L/N,” The dark-green haired boy mustered up to say.

He blinked, surprised. You’ve been talking about him? Rin shifted his weight awkwardly, his teal eyes eyeing at the inside of the house at the distance, searching for you.

Your mother notices the way he kept flickering his gaze past her and smiled knowingly.

You were already on the couch playing with Ms. Moe, clutching the stuffed toy in your arms as you patiently waited.

“N/N-chan, your friend is here!” Your mother called out, and your head shot up at the sound of her voice. The moment you saw Rin, you jumped and ran to and held his hand without hesitation.

“Come on, I want to show you something!” you said excitedly, pulling him towards your room upstairs.

The younger Itoshi let himself be led, his eyes darting towards the interior of your room. It was colorful and cozy, a reflection of you. Toys were scattered messily across the floor, he was taken aback by the amount of toys you had.

Then, he saw them— two familiar action figures propped up on your desk.

“I fixed them,” you announced proudly, noticing his gaze on the newly fixed toys. “Dad helped a little… but— I did most of the work!”

Rin took a step further, picking up the toys carefully this time— fearing it would break again. The cracks were faintly visible, but the pieces together almost perfectly.

He didn’t ask for it to be fixed. He didn’t even think you would. Yet, here they were, good as new.

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. But something in his chest made him feel warm.

“...Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, suppressing a smile. Gripping the toys a bit tighter.

“See? It’s like they’re alive again! Like in Toy story!” You said beaming at him, “Speaking of the movie. Let’s watch it now! And if we have time we can watch the sequel,”

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly brushed it off. “Alright,” he said, following you to the living room.

As you ran ahead, setting up and preparing the movie. He thought to himself, that he is starting to like you more and more and wanted to be more than just playmates at school.

He’s considering calling you his friend from now on.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You knew it, you were tearing down his cold walls each time you spent together. Rin was getting softer, though he’d never admit it.

Occasionally, he would try to impress, even if he masked it as something else. He’d invite you to his house, put a horror movie on, and be holding a proud smirking as you clung onto him, frightened— while he on the other hand didn’t seem fazed. For someone who acted so indifferent, he seemed to enjoy your attention more than he lets on.

It really did feel like you were making progress in your mission, much quicker than you anticipated. You loved learning about his dreams, passions, and tiny habits that no one else noticed.

As much as you liked learning about him there was one passion that you tried to avoid talking about— Soccer. You had enough of it, since Auntie Anri would be so busy because of it and you barely saw her anymore. You didn’t want it to be the same with Rin as well.

Unfortunately, Rin had different plans for this weekend. He was inviting you to play soccer in the field with his brother.

You sighed as you made your way into the field that he mentioned, kicking a pebble along the path. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted in the air, and the sight of trees blooming in soft pink hues lightened your mood. You loved spring— everything feels so alive and vibrant.

Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea. If nothing else, you gotta enjoy the scenery instead of briefly passing it with a car.

As you approached the field, two familiar figures were in the distance, they were the only ones who were playing under the bright sky. Peering at them at the entrance. You saw Rin’s older brother noticed you first, then soon Rin noticed as well and made his way over to you.

“What took you so long?” the younger Itoshi said, laced with concern but tried to conceal it.

“Sorry, Rin,” You said in a shrug with a light and unapologetic tone, “I was just admiring the cherry blossoms while walking— they are very pretty this time of year,” you explained.

His brows furrowed and gave you a small frown but there wasn’t any hint of surprise like he expected this of you. “Whatever, let’s just play.”

As you dropped off your bag on a bench, you noticed Rin’s older brother giving you a few side glances, Rim said that he was here to keep an eye on them. You were still wondering what he meant when he said a few weeks ago. Come to think of it, you didn’t know his name, Rin always referred to him as Nii-chan. You made a mental note to just ask later.

“This is your first time playing soccer, right?” Rin asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and you responded with a nod.

“Isn’t your brother going to play with us?’ You said, eyeing at the reddish-brown boy who was sitting at the bench at the distance.

“He says that he’s just gonna watch us play and to keep an eye on us,” Rin explained.

“Alright,”

You stood there awkwardly in the field, staring at the soccer ball like it was a math equation you didn’t intend on solving. You’ve seen a lot of soccer plays in Auntie Anri’s house whenever she watched TV but weren’t really interested in it.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention…

It wasn’t that you didn’t wanna play anymore but it was more that you didn’t know how. “What if I’m bad at this?” you asked worryingly.

“...then I’ll teach you,” Rin said, a bit more softer than usual, but you didn’t notice too focused on the ball at your feet.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself. “I’m ready,”

“Took you long enough,” Rin spoke out, tossing the ball at your feet. You flinched trying to move away at first then realising you needed to stop it, it even barely stopped at time— your feet stumbling a bit.

“You’re supposed to control it, not run away from it,” he added, suppressing a laugh but it still slipped out.

Maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, but spending time with Rin is gonna make him want to be friends with you so you’re gonna endure it.

“Alright, first thing’s first” Rin said, taking it back and placing the ball in front of you. “Just try to pass it back to me.” he demonstrated, nudging the ball with a clean motion that sent it rolling back to him. “You know, like that,”

What…?

You stood there awkwardly. You needed directions, not just some vague demonstrations from him. Your brows furrowed looking at the ball that he just passed back to you, still trying to figure out what he meant.

“Can you do that again?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.

“No,” he replied bluntly, “I already gave you clear directions,”

Yeah, clear as mud. You wanted to say out loud but held your tongue

You mimicked his motion, your foot grazing the ball gently. It didn’t go far, but it was clearly not smooth. It rolled a little, stirring off to the side.

“that sucked,” catching it with his foot effortlessly. “Try again, but with more power,” Rin replied.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Rin’s idea of “clear directions” was somehow different from yours, because nothing about this felt like it was making sense.

You should never let Rin teach you or other people things. He is way too fast, too impatient, and never lets you catch up and expects you to do it perfectly.

At first you were struggling to control the ball, your passes were too soft or veering off to the side. But somehow, despite Rin’s disastrous excuse for teaching, you managed to figure it out.

The ball started going where you wanted it to, your kicks were more smoother and more confident— though still far from perfection, but at least you were making progress.

Rim blinked as you sent a sharp pass back to him, “Are you sure you’ve never played before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“If I had, I wouldn’t be here, being taught by you,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes back at him.

“Then let’s see if you can get the ball past me and score a goal,” Rin said, planting himself firmly in front of the goal. “Just try to kick anywhere but straight at me.”

You frowned, lining up your shot. With an exaggerated swing of your leg, you sent the ball rolling… directly into Rin’s shin. He winced, rubbing the spot.

Your hand was covering your mouth, shocked. You went over to see if he was alright, “—I’m fine, it wasn’t a bullet.” The younger Itoshi pushed your hand away gently. “But I said pass me, not through me,” he grumbled.

“Alright, let’s try again,” Rin spoke out, dusting his shin. Kicking the soccer ball back to you, you stopped it with the bottom of your foot instead of running away this time.

You charged forward, the ball still wobbling. Rin was right in front of you, his intense gaze locked into your movements, planting himself firmly.

You bit your lip, unsure what to do. You faked a kick to the side— though it was unintentional, more like you were off balance— and Rin stepped to block it. In your panic you accidently connected the ball, sending it in the opposite direction. The ball zipped past him and into the net.

There was a long silence between you too as you stared at the ball sitting steadily at the net.

“I scored?” you asked in disbelief, you were contemplating how you were able to do that.

Rin frowned looking at you, his brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count,” he said, though you could see the slightest tint of red in his cheeks.

“Nu-uh, it totally counts!” You retorted, throwing your arms in the air triumphantly.

“You didn’t even mean to do that,” Rin grumbled. He avoided your eyes, muttering in his breath.

You then picked up the ball and tilted your head, a teasing grin displayed on your face, “Aw, is Rin-chan mad I beat him in his own game?”

“We’re going home it’s late anyways,” he said curtly, he wasn’t wrong the sky was getting dark, time really did fly by. You looked at him again, already walking towards the bench where your bag and his brother was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, jogging to catch up with him, “don’t be such a sore loser! I’m a fast learner, you know.”

Rin stopped, glancing over shoulder with a glare that lacked its usual sharpness, “Next time, you’re not gonna get past me,” he said, but there was a small yet unmistakable smirk on his face.

“You’re actually smiling! Does that mean we’re friends now?” you said with a smug grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulder.

“As if,” he said, his tone more softer than usual, and he avoided your gaze.

When you made your way home, you couldn’t help but think about Rin’s older brother. He still hadn’t spoken a word to you, his cool and distant demeanor creating an air of mystery around him.

Despite his aloofness, it was clear how much influence he had over Rin. The younger Itoshi practically lit up when Sae was around, even if Rin would never admit it outright.

Once you arrived at your house, you and Rin went your separate ways. You practically sprinted through the door, eager to collapse on your bed and recover from all the physical activity. Your legs felt like jelly, and you couldn’t wait to unwind after such an eventful day.

But just as you kicked off your shoes and started to relax, a faint tug of memory nagged at you. Something felt off, like you were forgetting something important.

The answer came when your hand brushed against a familiar round object. You froze, staring down at the soccer ball still in your grasp. A groan escaped your lips as realization hit you—you’d accidentally taken their ball home with you.

With a resigned sigh, you slipped your shoes back on and headed to the Itoshi residence. The walk was short, but the weight of the ball in your hands felt like a constant reminder of your blunder.

Once you reached their doorstep, you stood on your tiptoes to reach the doorbell. A soft chime echoed through the house, and moments later, the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a woman with reddish-brown hair, her kind eyes softening as she looked down at you. “Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted warmly.

You straightened up, offering a polite smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Itoshi.”

Her expression brightened further. “Ah, Y/N, aren’t you the one Rin’s been spending so much time with? He’s been in such a good mood lately, and I have you to thank for that. You’re welcome here anytime,” she said, giving your head a gentle pat.

The sudden physical affection caught you off guard, and you froze slightly, unsure how to react. “Thank you, Mrs. Itoshi,” you managed, your voice small.

She smiled at your politeness but quickly added, “You should get along with Sae as well.” Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of encouragement in her words.

You congratulate yourself since you didn’t have to embarrassingly ask Rin what his brother’s name was even though you’ve seen him a bunch of times now.

“He’s been struggling with his English recently, and I heard from your mother that it’s your first language. Would you mind helping him out sometime?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden request, but you nodded. “Alright, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll try my best.”

Her relief was almost palpable. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re a lifesaver.”

You handed her the soccer ball, watching as she cradled it with care. “Rin must have forgotten this. I’ll make sure he gets it back.”

With a final pat on your head, she bid you goodnight, leaving you to head home once more.

As you walked back, your thoughts swirled. One Itoshi brother was already a challenge to befriend, but now you had to crack two tough shells? Double trouble was an understatement.

Still, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad. Rin admired Sae a lot, and getting along with him might even earn you some extra points with your stubborn friend.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, all you wanted to do was snuggle with Ms. Moe and enjoy some much-needed rest.

And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, this day had turned out pretty great.

Act 1 | Fragments of us

don't cry over spilled milk

eyelash boy no more

Then it hits you, you didn’t know eyelash boy’s actual name.

 Even in school you didn’t pay attention at all to your classmate’s names. Whenever you had to call them out you just said what they were wearing or you just said ‘hey you’ in an effort to not have that awkward moment of asking what their name was even if you got to know them for days. 

This was a hassle— but it was a challenge.

Your lips curled into a mischievous grin. A challenge that you were ready to take on. 

“Alright, Ms. Moe,” you whispered, holding Ms. Moe and the owl plushie by hand, side by side. “Let’s turn this into a mystery to solve! We’re gonna find out Eyelash boy’s name, and then maybe— we’ll name your new friend after him.” 

You giggled at your plan feeling like a detective on a secret investigation. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When your mother dropped you off at school, you made your way to your classroom. You then kneeled and observed if your target was in the room— he was, just sitting there by himself and playing with his action figures. 

You then moved towards like you were a predator stalking your prey, quiet and stealthy. But the way you were moving caused some attention.

“Y/N, what are you doing…?” You hear a soft voice that makes you stop in your tracks like you were caught by a guard. 

You looked over and saw your friend, Kurage, she was one of the only people in the class that wasn’t annoying. 

“Nothing,” you sheepishly said, eyeing your friend and Eyelash Boy back and forth. 

“You know, you’ve been weird lately towards R—” you then shushed them. If Kurage was just gonna give you the answers this early your mission was gonna be pointless! 

“Don’t say his name! I’m on a secret mission and I can’t tell you! Okay?” You explained, your friend just gave you one last concerning look then just gave up putting some sense into you and just nodded along. 

As soon as your friend left you alone, you refocused on eyelash boy. He seemed oblivious to your presence, still engrossed in his action figures to even be aware of his surroundings. He was unaware— this was perfect. 

You casually slid into a seat near him, trying not to look obvious. You decided to observe him first. Maybe he’d give away his name somehow— on his bag, his lunchbox, something.

While you were busy analyzing his every move, he suddenly looked at your direction and caught you. You blew your cover! 

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, tilting his head a bit, clearly annoyed. 

“I wasn’t staring at you—” you looked for anything that might change the topic and then your eyes landed on what he was holding, some sort of man with a superhero suit and a lizard-dinosaur thing…? It was some sort of monster you guessed “I was admiring your action figures! Yeah, they are pretty cool.” 

He narrowed his eyes, then held up one of them. “This is Ranger, and this is Godzilla,” he explained. “But you probably don’t watch their shows or movies.”

He was correct, you only watched Avatar the last airbender or winx club or whatever that show that was on TV most of the time. But you focused on him now grinning, sensing the opportunity. 

“Maybe not, but I’m a quick learner. Want to tell me more about them?” You hoped the conversation would lead to him eventually mentioning his name—he had to slip up eventually, right?

The dark green haired boy seemed hesitant but started talking about the shows that the action figures were in. You nodded along, you observed him more. He seemed to actually enjoy telling these characters a bit, you’ve never seen him this happy before. 

Maybe you should talk to him more, you mentally took note. 

Just as you were making progress, the teacher entered the room and began taking attendance— this was your moment! 

Just as the teacher was calling names for attendance, a loud ringtone blared from her bag, cutting through the quiet hum of the classroom. She quickly excused herself and stepped away from the classroom leaving the rest of the class astray. 

“Of course,” you muttered to yourself, slumping in your seat. Couldn’t she have turned it off before class?

With nothing else to do, you let your mind wander, retreating to the little world of your imagination where you were the center of the world. Your thoughts blurred into a swirl of colors and half-formed images. A distant field, a flicker of movement, and the thrill of chasing something just out of reach. The world around you faded, and for a moment, you weren’t in the classroom anymore.

“L/N Y/N!” Your teacher called out, it was like a splash of water waking you up. You tensed up in your seat, startled.

“Present,” you stammered, hoping the other kids didn’t know your little slip-up. 

As the teacher continued, when your mind was about to drift off again. Then it hit you— your heart sank. The boy’s names must’ve been called while you were off in your own head. 

Curse your short attention span. 

You slumped forward, burying your face in your hands, this was gonna be harder than you thought.

As the teacher continued to make an attendance, you felt your focus drifting again. That was a failed attempt, you should try it later again. The minutes passed by slower than they should’ve have, and you couldn’t help but wish for recess to hurry up. 

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson. The students around you began to chatter and shuffle out of their seats, eager to get out of the confines of the room.

You stretched your arms, feeling the tension relieved from your shoulders as you stood up and gathered your things. Recess— the perfect time for your investigation. You didn’t waste any time heading out of the classroom, pushing past the other students as they spilled into the hallway.

Out in the playground, the sounds of children playing and laughter surrounded you. Your eyes scanned at the area, then focused on a familiar person, Eyelash Boy. He wasn’t talking to anyone as usual, sitting near the edge of the school yard. 

Come to think of it, he was kinda alone most of the time in school. Unless he hung out with his brother but that’s it. 

Which made you amused for a bit but you did feel pity for him—  he was kind of cold and not really a person you’d be comfortable talking to, so it really wasn’t a surprise that no one really talks to him nor does he want to talk to other, but, you recalled back to him getting excited talking about his action figures with you, maybe he doesn’t realise that he needed a friend.

Alas, you came back home, like a soldier coming back from a losing war, and without the information you needed to name the owl plushie, you stared at it with guilt. Maybe you should’ve let your friend say his name earlier…

 Maybe you’ll get his name next week as you hoped.

But tomorrow, you won't be worrying about school or a failed mission. It was a weekend, and that meant a visit to Auntie Anri!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You weren’t related to Aunti Anri, but it did feel like she was like a mix of a cool aunt and a big sister to you. She was one of your mom’s closest friends, someone who had always been around. Your parents usually drop you off at her place when they are gonna be busy with work, you didn’t mind you had fun when you were there. 

You swayed your legs back and forth in the car seat impatiently, you looked over to the window and seeing the sights made you relaxed a bit, but the anticipation was still bubbling inside you.  

You haven’t visited her in a while because of moving, you couldn’t wait to see her again. You squeezed Mrs. Moe and owl plushie tightly. 

You arrived in the familiar sight of her house, you couldn’t hold back your excitement. You opened the car door once it parked and then you hopped over to her doorstep, your father chuckled at how pumped you were. 

You then rang the doorbell with a grin, heart racing in excitement. 

You then saw a familiar face, her soft and brownish-red hair and her kind and big eyes stared at you softly.

“Y/N-chan!” Anri then hugged you tightly, you could feel that warmth of hers and her usual perfume as well. 

She welcomed you, you then eagerly went inside her home and sunk in the soft cushions of the couch, placing Ms. Moe and owl plushie down. You heard murmurs of your parents and Anri, it was all grown-up talk so you didn’t pay attention to them.

They said their goodbyes to you and left, Aunty Anri told you to stay put so she can fetch some of your favorite snacks.

Your eyes drifted towards the tv, you then looked at the soccer merch that she had. The sound of the plate gently being placed on the table caught your attention. 

You then dig in on the wonderful snack and much to your heart’s content like you were appa. 

Anri sat next to you, eating as well. She took notice of the new addition to your plushies. “Oh? A new friend for Ms. Moe?” She gently said, looking at you with curiosity. 

“Yeah, it was an apology gift from a boy in class,” you answered her question, you tried to act unfazed. 

“what did he do exactly?” Aunty Anri asked further, much to your annoyance.

“He kicked a ball and it launched like a missile towards Ms. Moe and then it hit a glass of milk which spilled on Ms. Moe and made her wet and dirty.”

Anri gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “Poor Ms. Moe! What a crime. And this boy— did he survive your wrath?” she grinned clearly teasing you.

You rolled your eyes, still munching in your snack. “He was lucky I didn’t pop his ball.” 

Anri chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “Did he at least apologize properly?”

“I mean… yeah. He gave me the owl and said sorry, but he sucked at it. Boys are weird.” you shrugged. 

“they can be,” Anri agreed, she had a fair share of weird interactions with guys. She wishes that you wouldn’t grow through the same things she did. “But it sounds like he tried in his own way.”

“Yeah, he did. He’s still kind of annoying though but,” your sentence trailed off a bit in thought, what did you think of him? “I want to be friends with him.” 

“That’s a big change from ‘annoying’ what brought this on?”

“I mean he isn’t annoying I guess— but he isn’t that mean or anything. He's just different and is kind of hard to talk to” you quickly replied.

Anri nodded thoughtfully. “Different isn’t always bad. Sometimes, those are the friends who teach us the most about ourselves,” 

“Teach us what?” You innocently said.

“Well,” Anri began, leaning back into the couch, “maybe how to see the world from someone else’s eyes. Or how to handle someone that isn't exactly like you. It’s kind of what friendship is about— learning from each other.”

You felt like you were in a my little pony episode, that Auntie Anri was twilight sparkle. 

“And maybe,” she continued, “he might learn something from you too.” 

“like being awesome and as cool as me?”

“Exactly,” she giggled a bit, ruffling your hair. “But you know, being friends takes patience— and you need to learn that as well, and not everyone opens up right away.” 

You nodded, you felt a bit more motivated and a smile creeping on your face. “Guess, I could try.” 

“that’s the spirit,” she said warmly, “and if he still doesn’t open up then that’s fine not everyone has to be your friend,” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It is Monday now, you lazily went out of your doorstep clearly not wanting to go to school now. But then you spotted the older brother at the front and you hid behind your parent's car trying not to be seen. You peeked over a bit watching as Eyelash Boy was still left behind their house. It kind of surprised you that they were still here, usually they left much earlier than you did.

You then heard what you’ve been wanting to hear for a long time.

“Rin, let’s go!” His older brother said to him, you practically jumped out of excitement. The mission was complete! You can finally name Ms. Moe’s friend after all.

You were already thinking of names based on Rin… Ron, Ri, Rinnie, and the one you liked the most was Ren. 

You stepped out from the car, trying to act casual waiting for your mom, but your excitement was through the roof. As you walked closer to your porch checking to see if your mom was gonna come out or not. 

You overheard the conversation between the brothers again. Rin didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave, but his older brother seemed to be more impatient at the moment.

“Nii-chan, wait for me,” Rin muttered, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard from him before.

Sae, on the other hand, seemed to have an understanding but annoyed look on his face. “Hurry up. We’re already late.” he said, voice blunt and commanding. He didn’t even acknowledge you at first, but then his eyes flickered towards you like he felt something was wrong.

Ruh roh.

You froze, caught off guard by his sudden attention towards you and his cold stare. It wasn’t unkind, but it felt distant— like you weren’t his time.

“Are you staring at something?” he asked, his tone was more judgemental than curious, though you couldn’t quite read it.

You blinked, eyes drifted at anything but him, taken aback by his question, but quickly recovered. “Oh! No, I— uh..” you stumbled over your words, a nervous laughter escaped you.

“Were you looking at my brother?” he said rather bluntly.

You looked up at him, your heart racing. “Well, not exactly,” 

He seemed to catch your nervousness. His gaze softened for a moment, his sharpness replaced with something more neutral. “Ah. You must be the one who got the owl plushie, huh?” his word deliberate, as though he knew the answer already. 

“uh, yeah… he gave it to me as an apology,” you answered, unsure of how much detail he wanted.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, his gaze still fixed on you. “He’s not the type to give something like that away easily,” he muttered, almost to himself. Then he realised he might’ve said more than he intended, he straightened up, looking away. “Just don’t make him regret it,” 

You blinked, unsure if you should say something back. But before you could even muster any words— he was already turning and walking away. Leaving you standing there and processing his words.

You tried to wrap your head around what he said. “Don’t make him regret it.” you couldn’t shake the thought. Was that a warning..? Or was that just some older brother protectiveness? Either way the words struck you.

It wasn’t like you had a plan to force yourself into Rin’s life, but there was something about the way he gave you the owl plushie. It was his way of apologizing— awkward, yes, but genuine. And Aunty Anri’s words echoed through your mind. “He tried in his own way.”

Aunty Anri was right. Maybe Rin wasn’t the easiest person to get along with but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try. You did say you wanted to be friends with him, after all. 

The mission has already been renewed. No longer was it just getting his name or resolving the issue with Mrs. Moe. Now, it was about becoming friends with him. He’d done the part apologizing, but now it was your turn to do the same— to meet him halfway.

The next step was simple: talk to him. You’ve done it before, that seemed the easiest way to start. You weren’t going to let things stay awkward between you two. You were determined, he wasn’t a big talker, but there was something to make him tick. 

The only way to find out was to try.

Taglist: @danhoneyyysblog @nana7nana777 @levihanmyotp

Weddings were supposed to be about love and new beginnings, but for him it marked his loss and regret. Bitterness clung to him like a second skin, suffocating and inescapable. He could still remember the moments where it was just you two— those fleeting, stolen seconds when he thought he’d always have time.

But time didn’t wait, he didn’t realise what you meant to him until you weren’t his to have. Until someone else saw your love and compassion, the laugh that felt like home, and claimed it while he was frozen, too proud, and too blind to act.

Now you were gonna stand in the altar with a man that wasn’t him.

His regret was piling up recalling the memories that he’d prioritize his goals and soccer over you. How you'd get upset but didn’t let him see it. He realised that it was probably because you thought you were hindering him from his success in achieving what he wanted.

His ears picked up your laughter. He stiffened as you adjusted his tie. The fabric wrapped between your soft and warm hands. His heart beat with every second of it. His eyes adjusted to your white dress, it fitted your complexion well. You always had a knack of finding things that compliment you well. That dress was the kind of thing you’d dream about.

“Rin, you look like a mess.” You playfully said, looping the tie around. “I want you to look good in the pictures— well, you’ll still look handsome even if you look like you haven’t slept for a week.” you teased him.

Rin’s lips turned into a line, he felt a gravel in his throat. “I’ve been busy,” his voice came through, almost distant.

He looked down at you, watching your fingers tie the knot. Did you even realise what you were doing to him?

“You shouldn’t worry how I look,” he added, still frowning, showing his indifference, “it’s not my wedding, after all.”

“Yeah, because you keep pushing women or even men away from you. You’re handsome, a star captain in the japan soccer team, you have money, you have decent— well sometimes decent personality sometimes.” You jabbed at him a bit.

Rin scoffed,“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?” he shot back, his tone sharper than intended.

His gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. “Maybe I just don’t see the point,” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “None of that matters if it’s not with the right person.”

“Then find them, if you really want to find the right person then don’t just be frozen in place, run and go.” You advised, finally done with his tie. You firmly straightened the fabric.

“What if I already found them?” His eyes showed vulnerability, itching for her to notice him. Wanting and longing for her to change her mind and be with him instead.

“Then what are you waiting for?” You encouraged him. Those words alone made him want to say he loved you right there.

But, he didn’t. Rin messed up a lot of things in his life. His blunt self made it harder to say what, how he felt— but it always came out wrong and not what he intended.

Rin’s heart skipped a beat at your words, the space between you suddenly feeling too small. He opened his mouth, the words almost there, but they choked in his throat. His gaze flickered away, as if afraid of what might slip out if he spoke.

“I... I don’t know if I can,” he muttered, his voice low and raw. “saying it now... it just feels too late.”

He caught your eyes for a split second, vulnerability in his own flickering like a dying flame. He wanted to say the words—he wanted to tell you how much he felt, how much he needed you—but the weight of all his failures kept him frozen

Some of the guests could be heard at the other side of the door. The awkwardness between them is heavy in the air. You pulled your hands back away from him. You weren’t sure how to break the silence between you two.

Rin’s gaze momentarily looks at the door, where the groom was laughing with others. He could feel his jaw tightened subconsciously. Everytime he even saw your fiance, he’d always have this scowl look.

You cleared your throat. Seeing the opening for a conversation, you took it, eyes lingering on Rin for a moment. “So… what do you think of him?”

Your voice was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something else— an unspoken question hanging in the air.

.

Rin opened his mouth to answer but hesitated, his mind scrambling for the right words. What did he think of him? He couldn’t bring himself to admit it, even to himself.

All he could come up with was that he hated him—hated him for taking you away from him. Why did it take him so long to realize?

Soccer had always been his life—he’d worked for it, sacrificed for it. But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore. You were the one who mattered most. He had realized it too late, and now the realization gnawed at him, sharp and bitter.

“He’s... alright,” he finally said, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. It was a weak, vague answer—one that concealed the raw truth.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fight him when I said he and I were dating, honestly. I was kind of scared for him because of how much you send death glares with every man that even flirted with me.” You say with an awkward chuckle. Recalling the memories of how Rin would act so fast.

Rin’s eyes narrowed at the countless memories, and a brief moment his face hardened. “They deserved it,” he said with indifference— but not aimed towards you, to them.

—

The music changed, signalling the bride's arrival. Rin’s gaze shifted involuntarily towards the aisle, his heart pounding with every note that played. Everything seemed to slow down around him, each step echoing louder than the last as you moved closer.

Everyone was at awe by your beauty, he didn’t blame them. He was enamoured by your movements— how you looked.

Rin’s thoughts raced, the weight of everything he couldn’t say settling heavily on his shoulders. As the soft murmur of the guests filled the air. He couldn’t shake the image of you standing besides him— if only things turned out differently.

The room was alive with quiet excitement, the glow of candlelight reflecting off the polished surfaces. Laughter drifted through the air, but all Rin could hear was the steady beat of his own heart—faster now, as if it too understood the finality of what was about to happen.

A soft chime echoed through the room, and the guests fell silent, their eyes turning toward the aisle. Rin’s breath hitched in his throat, unable to tear his gaze away from where you would soon stand, arm-in-arm with him—the man you’d chosen.

The two of you said your vows, said “I do” to the question, and made the first kiss of your marriage. His body felt cold like he was trapped in the pile of snow and it was numb. It felt like someone struck a poison into him. He hated this feeling, he experienced it before when Sae said those words that left a chokehold on him for years.

He needed a drink to wash all the pain away.

—

The venue you rented was beautiful but he was too busy swallowing in his misery to even enjoy the wedding reception. He sat down in the stool ordering a heavy drink.

You were married now, it was too late for him to do anything. He can only watch on the sidelines with you living your life with another man. The bartender then handed him the glass of alcohol.

He drank it to his heart's content. The alcohol was bitter— reflecting his own emotions back at him. Alcohol was distasteful and unhealthy, he doesn’t usually drink but he’ll make an exception for just this night, to not think.

“Really want to get into the mood, huh?” your husband talked to him. Rin was already in a bad mood, your husband made it even worse.

“I guess,” Rin said with indifference, he sipped on the drink more.

“You should be hanging out with the others instead of being here all alone, she’d want you to have fun!” The words stung more than the groom probably realized.

Did he think Rin could just ‘have fun’ when everything felt wrong? He could barely keep his thoughts straight, let alone smile for the sake of others

Rin gripped his glass harder, the cold surface pressing into his palm. He could feel his vision start to blur, the alcohol doing its work. But it didn’t numb the anger. It only made it sharper.

He could feel his jaw clench, his heart rate quicken. The groom didn’t know anything. He didn’t know the weight of this situation. And every word he said made Rin’s patience thin.

Then your husband notices Rin’s reactions. He knew what was up, and that he saw how Rin would look at you, how he’d loosen up when he was with you, and now he was miserable at the wedding.

“Hey, it’s tough, I get it,” the groom says. “But you’re a great guy, Rin. You’ve got so much going for you. Don’t beat yourself up. There’s always the future, right? Maybe even someone else out there for you too.”

The more your husband said, the worse it got for Rin. It wasn’t that the groom was wrong—he was just too far removed from what Rin was feeling.

It wasn’t about finding someone else or “moving on”—it was about the one person Rin couldn’t have anymore. The one person who was slipping further away with every passing second because of him.

His grip on the glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, bitterness seeping through his voice. “You think this is just some passing thing, that I’ll ‘get over with it’. You don’t know what it feels like you’ve lost everything…. Especially when you never got the chance to tell her how you even felt. So don’t just fucking sit there and tell me that everything is okay,” with every breath, he could smell the alcohol.

“I… I didn’t mean to upset you,” the groom said, a bit taken aback. “I’m just trying to help, man. You’re a good guy, Rin. You’ll be alright.”

“Can you shut it? You think you’re the one who gets to take her away, don’t you? You think you’re the perfect guy for her, but you don’t even see it. You’re just the safe option, the ‘right choice’ on paper. All you’ve done is show up with your polished image and your nice words, pretending like you’re everything she needs—

I’m not perfect, I never was. I screwed up, I pushed her away when I should’ve held on. But I’m the one who understands her. I know what makes her laugh when she’s sad. You’re just a lukewarm piece of trash that she pitied.” He let out all his anger. All his frustrations. With each word uttered it felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders but grew more distant with his stabled mind.

“Rin,” he felt his wrist being grabbed by soft hands. His eyes looked up to see you standing there with a mix of frustration and disappointment. He was being dragged to an empty room.

He knew what was about to come, you were gonna give him a lesson, scolding him like you used to do whenever he did shit like this.

"I get it, Rin. You’re hurt. I know you care about me, but this... this isn’t how you handle it. I won’t let you disrespect him and my choice. I won’t stand for it, not after everything we’ve been through.” You touched his shoulder gently.

“You made a shitty choice.” Rin said coldly. You could smell the alcohol in his breath, too far gone to think clearly right now.

“Rin, I am proud of my decision— I love him, he never pushes me away, he never makes me feel like I’m an idiot, he never makes me feel like I was his second priority. I don’t know why you don’t want this for me, can’t you see for once… that I’m happy?”

Rin’s eyes widened, his face twisting in anger, pain, and something else— something raw and almost desperate. “And you’re saying that you found someone who can see your feelings, prioritize and love you. Then what was I? Who the hell was I to you?!”

You stepped back, your chest tightening with a mix of guilt and sorrow. “A person I love,” you said, your voice almost a whisper now. “But who taught me that love isn’t always enough.”

You couldn’t stand it anymore, everything was too overwhelming for you. Rin was too hurt— you couldn’t look him in the eyes without feeling guilty. Feeling like shit, you turned around and left the room, hoping the silence would ease your thoughts.

As you left the room, it was just him with his thoughts. His gaze lingering on the doorway where you just left. His hands grip on his suit, wrinkling it, his knuckles turned white. “What was I?” the question echoed in his mind, a haunting refrain. The words that he spat out were wrong now.

His chest tightened for a moment, the alcohol buried in his veins, dulling the clarity he had left, but only left every once of guilt that he had. How could he let it get this far? He was too damn proud… to be caught up in his own world to notice you needed more than he was giving.

Now, there you were—standing with someone else, someone who could make you happy, someone who wasn’t him.

The place that you moved into was nice; you notice flowers displayed on the porch, and you bend down to feel its soft texture— as well to get a good look at their vibrant colors.

Your tiny finger itching to pluck a petal, you felt a gentle hand touch your left shoulder, recognizing your mother's shadowy figure on the flower pot.

"Why don't you see your new room?" She says to you, the thoughts of plucking the petals of the flower disappearing with a new task. You then brushed your hand onto your dress before walking to your new room.

Your mother pointed to the stairs to where your room was supposedly to be; the stairs creaked one by one, lowering you; your feet stumbled, but you caught yourself in the last second, saving yourself from planting your face onto the ground.

You then walk towards the hall, catching a glimpse of an open room which had the walls in your favorite color. There were boxes on the ground, but there was a tiny plush arm sticking out from the tiny crack in the box. It was your F/A plushie!

"Ms. Moe! You're in there," you whispered to yourself excitedly. You grabbed the arm and tugged it, but it didn't budge. Frowning, you planted your feet firmly onto the ground for more leverage and pulled harder—still nothing.

Your eyes squint as you see the tape sealing the box. Determined, you tried to peel it with your fingers, but it stayed put. Your frustration grew and you grabbed the box and tried to tear it. Unknown to you, your mother was conveniently at the room that your room was above, hearing your frustration, stomping and tugging. She grew more concerned and went to the source, seeing you trying to tear it open. She swooped in and set you aside.

"Y/N-chan, we'll unpack your toys later. In the meantime, why don't you go to Daddy and explore outside?" Your mother said softly, her hand gently brushing the strands of your hair; you shot one last longing look at your trapped plushie in the box before going back downstairs.

You begrudgingly left your room with a frown tugging at your lips, forcing yourself to go outside. "Why the long face?" You hear your father say. You told him what your mother said, and you felt his warmth as he picked you up. Whilst in your father’s arms as he walked, you saw seagulls flying in the air, your eyes sparkled with admiration, then felt the smell of the ocean and sand, and you saw the beach at the horizon.

"Dad! Can we go there? Please?" You pleaded, and your dad just chuckled at your tactic of convincing him. "I don't know... what if the crabs are waiting to pinch your toes?" He said, teasingly grinning as you gasped in horror. "But you'll protect me!" You said with confidence.

"Yes, I'll always protect you," he replied.

Your eyes lit up seeing the amazing view from your father's arms. You almost leaped forward, but his grip prevented you from doing so. He chuckled, "Is my little Y/N enjoying our new home?" You nodded eagerly in response.

He sets you down, your tiny feet hitting the ground. He grabs his phone from his pocket and squats down. He aimed the camera lens towards you. "Smile, sweetie!" Your lips curled to a small smile, and your hands formed a peace sign.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Every time your parents marked the calendar, your stomach tightened. 'First School Day' loomed closer, and it wasn’t something you were excited about. It meant starting over—new enviroment, new faces, and unwanted interactions.

While playing on the porch, you played with Ms. Moe in your other toys, playing house with them and having a glass of milk on the side. A car catches your attention as it parks the house right in front of you. You saw two boys your age come out of the car; the one with reddish-brown hair went to the house first.

The younger boy kicked his soccer ball into a mini-net but sent it flying instead. It ricocheted off his house and straight into yours... It then hits Ms. Moe, and she flies, hitting your glass of milk; the milk splatters across the floor and soaks Ms. Moe in the process.

Your chest tightened in worry as you saw Ms. Moe tumbled to the ground. You only took a few steps forward to reach her, you held your plush toy gently, but your grip tightened as you saw the boy grab the ball and leave a mess—without any words of apology.

You rushed inside and you began cleaning Ms. Moe. "He didn't even say sorry to you, MoeMoe-chan. I'm gonna pop his ball and see how he likes it." You pat Ms. Moe on her head as you wipe off the milk that soaked her soft fur.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You always heard the sound of the soccer ball thuds across from the street, but that sound just reminded you of the moments before Ms. Moe got drenched in milk. You hear them play at a certain time, noticing how they are a bit obsessed with soccer, and some days you see them wearing jerseys.

Yet you couldn't help but watch them afar from your window. Your mother would always say that you should hang out with them, but you still held a grudge towards the younger one, so you just said no every time she brought it up.

Four days left until school eventually started, and you were dragged to a tailor shop. The tailor measured your arms and legs, adjusting your uniform. You shuffled impatiently, eyes darting to the exit. Ice cream and TV were waiting, and you had enough of this.

When it was over, you hurriedly went to the car but realized your dad was still behind at the entrance of the tailor shop "You know kids your age love to go outside, but just want to be cooped up in your room," he chuckled as he opened the car with his key.

"Yeah, until a white van shows up with candy or a car runs them over—like in the movies," you shuddered, going inside the car with the help of your dad; he tucked you tightly into the car seat.

"You aren't wrong," he said, remaining quiet for a moment, taken aback at how you just said that given your age, "—but I still want you to explore and enjoy your time; you're still young and frowing after all. And maybe we should cut back on movie nights." He advised, flashing a smile, which you couldn't help but smile back at him.

You just nodded in response, even though you did not fully agree with what he said; he did have a point, you guessed. Your eyes looked out the window.

In the distance, a soccer field came into view. Bordered by trees and a rusty chain fence. Kids scattered on the grass, their jerseys darting back and forth. Cheers could be heard as the car got closer.

Your eyes lingered on the field beyond the chain fence. Two players stood out; their movements were sharp and precise, more skilled than the rest. Their kicks were strong and accurate. One of them scored a goal and followed the cheers and applause. The way they moved seemed familiar until you realized it was—

"Those two are our neighbors, the ones that keep playing soccer in their front yard," he tapped his steering wheel. "I heard from the neighbors they were prodigies."

Your dad sounded impressed by them; all you felt was a bitter taste in your mouth. It didn't matter if they were prodigies or not—especially to that boy who didn't apologize. 'Prodigies,' your dad called them. To you, one of them was just a boy who ruined your only friend.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

That day finally arrived—your first day of school. You were standing outside the porch with your elementary uniform clutching your F/C bag. Your parents were practically bursting with excitement, snapping photo after photo as you were concerned about their doting gaze; they were far more thrilled than you felt.

When you stepped inside the school, an unfamiliar sight stood before you. Your heart pounded, and you clutched the fabric of your mother's dress tighter with every step you took. The thought of her driving without you made your chest tighten. Wanting her to stay.

Sensing your nervousness, she kneeled to your level, soft hands placed on your shoulders. Her warm smile—so familiar and reassuring—calmed you making you focus on her words instead of your nervousness

"I know it's scary, but you're going to do amazing. Be friendly and make lots of friends, okay?" She kissed your forehead lightly, her soft voice full of encouragement.

"All right," you say with a wobbly smile. You didn't care about making friends; all you cared about was to make her proud.

Kids around you clung to their parents, some crying loudly as if the separation was unbearable. You can't blame them—you, too, felt your own eyes watering at the thought of your mom leaving. Worse, Ms. Moe was still drying; you couldn't even have her comfort.

A woman approached with the tag reading "Mrs. Yuka." Her friendly smile didn't ease your nerves like how your mother's smile did. "Hi, Y/N! Let's find you a seat, shall we?" She said brightly.

Before you could protest, your mother pried your hands from her dress. "Sorry, sweetie," she murmured, her voice heavy with guilt. "But mommy has to leave now," she kissed your forehead the one last time, her hands lingering for a moment as if she didn't want to leave you behind.

You let out a sniffle, trying to will tears your eyes to appear to make her stay but she only smiled with a somber expression. With a soft final "I love you," she headed through the door, leaving you alone.

A defeated sigh left your lips as you looked around the room, your eyes focused on a particular person. You can recognize those long, gorgeous bottom eyelashes and turquoise eyes anywhere.

He sat a few seats away from you; his dark green hair was messy, falling into his eyes as he doodled on his desk. When his eyes looked up and your eyes met briefly. His gaze darted almost instantly, as though he had been caught. You frowned.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The entire time, you glared at him, not even paying attention to what the teacher said. Your frustration is boiling like a pot that was about to overflow. The way he kept ignoring you only made it worse. Your parents always said to face your problems, so you decided to use their advice.

You hear the chime of the bell signaled at the end of the class and the beginning of your confrontation. You see your target, who was still avoiding your gaze, and you could see him slowly inching his seat away from you as you walked towards him.

"Eyelash boy! You—you need to say sorry to Ms. Moe!" You said to him, determined but still a bit nervous. Other kids seemed to be overly curious about what was going on.

He finally looked at you, his brows furrowed, his tone slightly flat. "Who's that? And what are you talking about?" he said, fidgeting with his pen.

You saw his expression; you know well that he knew clearly what you were talking about. "You heard me! You hurt Ms. Moe! I want a sorry now." You exclaimed, determined to have justice for your dear friend.

"It's just a doll," he said dismissively, his gaze averting at some moments. That word alone made your eye twitch. You were already planning to pop his soccer ball in revenge.

"Ms. Moe isn't just a doll, she's the bestest friend ever!"

"You should've picked her up and dodged the ball. Work on your dodging skills next time," he said with indifference. Now he was admitting that he knew what you were talking about.

"Like how you should work on your aim?" You jabbed at him. Still annoyed at how he seemed so stubborn.

"At least I can kick a goal! Do you even know how to kick a ball right!?"

"Oh, so your goal was my house? Didn't know my house is a soccer net now."

The other kids seemed to laugh at your words, which grew his embarrassment more.

You saw the annoyance growing on his face. He got up from his seat and left. Serves him right; he couldn't even manage a simple apology. Though that look on his face kind of made you feel a little bad for him. Still, justice had to be served.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was the day after that confrontation. School wasn't so bad; you chatted with the other girls, and they were super nice to you, helping you with stuff you didn't understand talked about your favorite shows with them and played with toys with them, you didn't felt lonely; maybe having friends wasn't as bad as you thought.

You saw Eyelash Boy enter the room, holding something in his hands. You thought it was a soccer ball already plaughting on how to pop it, but to your surprise it was a toy car, accessories, and another plushie—which was an owl. He stopped walking for a moment, eyeing you as if testing the waters, he slowly inches towards you to which he placed the toys on your desk quickly, as if it were finishing a chore.

A small pout was plastered on his face. Clearly embarassed. "It wasn't on purpose... okay? I didn't mean to—I just guess that your doll is like my soccer ball. Important or whatever."

You stared at the toys; your frustration turned to surprise. He actually apologized somewhat, though you were a bit hesitant not knowing if this was sincere or not but it felt heartfelt. You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a small smile, and your eyes sparkled with gratitude; his eyes widened a bit by your gratefulness. He just frowns a bit before turning to the direction of his seat.

As he walked back to his seat, you couldn't help but smile more looking at Ms. Moe's new car, house, and a new owl friend.

Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. He just really needed to work on his apologies.