The classroom felt different today. I sat at my usual desk, but Kane Inoue's seat—beside me, by the window—was empty. Morning sunlight filtered through, golden and bright, but it only made the emptiness more painful. I glanced at the clock. She was late. Not just a few minutes late—the bell had already rung.
I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on Miss. Tanaka's math lecture. Numbers swam on the whiteboard, but my mind was on Kane Inoue. There was a sticky note on her desk from last week's homework; her neat handwriting still visible. Without her warm smile lighting the day, everything here felt a shade colder.
At the break, I stood in the hallway with Sayoko and Haru. Sayoko tapped her foot, eyes darting to the staircase that led to the nurse's office. Haru kept checking his phone.
"Maybe she overslept?" Haru suggested, voice hesitant.
"Or maybe she's in the nurse's office," Sayoko repeated, though she didn't sound convinced. Her fingers hovered over her phone; she was about to text Kane.
I watched a janitor wheel a cart through the corridor, the clink of mops and buckets echoing. It was too quiet—Kane Inoue would never just vanish like this without a word. My chest tightened, and I almost spoke, but my voice stuck in my throat.
By lunchtime, worry had crept into our conversations. Sayoko and Haru had sent multiple texts, one gently asking if she was okay, another checking if she was already at home. Each beep on my phone made my heart leap, but they were all from school clubs and group chats—nothing from Kane.
"I don't get it," Haru said softly, leaning back against a locker. "She always answers. Even if she's busy, she'll text back in a minute."
I nodded, swallowing. A knot of fear sat in my stomach. The last time we were together—just three days ago—she had seemed a bit pale, but she laughed it off and insisted we meet at the arcade this weekend. I wondered if something had happened after that.
In the afternoon, word started to circulate. During third period, a teacher reminded the class about submitting permission slips. Rumors whispered past like ghosts: "I heard Kane Inoue went to the hospital." "Why would she be in the hospital?" The murmurs swirled around me. I tried not to listen, but when a friend tapped my shoulder and said quietly, "Are you okay? Did you hear? Kane Inoue's hospitalized," my head snapped up.
My hand grew cold around my pen. I wanted to argue—say someone was mistaken, that it was probably something minor—except I couldn't remember when she would've even had time to fall ill. My breath came too fast. The bell rang, and I rushed out with Sayoko and Haru.
Outside school, the sunlight had dimmed. Sayoko tried calling Kane again, and Haru looked on helplessly. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Komaru, Kane's sister: "Kane was rushed to the hospital this morning. They didn't think she'd make it to class, sorry."
The hallway tilted as the text sank in. Kane… rushed… hospital… It felt surreal, like the floor had been pulled out from under me. In a daze, I watched Sayoko slide her phone across so Haru could read the message.
Sayoko blinked back tears. Haru's shoulders slumped. They both turned to me.
"We're going to see her," Sayoko said firmly. "Right now. Will you come with us?"
My throat was tight. Images flashed in my mind: Kane Inoue in pain, hooked up to machines. The thought of seeing her so vulnerable made my heart ache. I shook my head slowly. "I—I shouldn't," I murmured. I couldn't explain why I felt so frozen, why every instinct told me I shouldn't be there—how could I possibly find the words to go into that room?
Both of them looked confused and hurt. "Yuki…" Haru started.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, avoiding their gaze. I gripped the sleeve of my uniform, nails digging in as I tried to steady myself. "I—just… I can't. Not like this."
Sayoko placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You'll regret not going," she said quietly. "She needs us."
Her words stung. But my eyes were already on the stained linoleum floor. "Go," I managed, and shoved past them and out of the school building.
They looked back, but I kept my head down. I knew better than to be pushed.
Once they were gone, I just stood there. The schoolyard emptied around me. I inhaled sharply. Guilt rushed in: for not going with them, for not being there when she might need me most.
My legs moved on their own, carrying me back down the corridor. I entered the empty classroom we shared. The hush of the deserted school surrounded me. The door clicked shut behind me.
The room was dim in the fading light. I sat near the window. The ticking clock and far-off vacuum were the only sounds. I pulled out my phone again, then stowed it without unlocking it.
No new messages.
I closed my eyes and let memories surface—her laugh on the roof, her hand brushing mine across a desk, her promise to meet at the festival. I shook my head. Why hadn't I noticed sooner?
The sky outside turned purple. I stood up suddenly. Everyone from school was gone. If I went now, no one would stop me.
And I had to go.
I grabbed my jacket, nearly knocking over a chair, and ran down the hallway. I reached the bike rack and pedaled hard. My heart thudded as I raced through the streets.
When the hospital came into view, I skidded to a stop, breath ragged. I walked through automatic doors into the sterile lobby.
"Is it okay if I see Kane Inoue? She was admitted this morning," I asked a nurse at the front desk.
She looked up, her eyes gentle. "She's in room 307. Visiting hours are almost over, but… if you're a friend, I'm sure she'd appreciate it."
I nodded, barely hearing her.
Room 307 was at the end of the hallway. The door was slightly ajar, light spilling into the corridor.
I stopped outside. Kane Inoue lay in the bed, pale under the bright lamp. Her blonde hair was tied back messily. The IV line ran to her arm.
She turned her head slightly and met my eyes. For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"Kane," I whispered.
She managed a soft, tired smile. "Yuki," she replied gently. "I knew… I knew you'd come."
Tears prickled in my eyes. I rushed to the chair beside her.
"Of course," I said, voice trembling. "I'm here. I'm—so sorry I didn't come sooner. I was scared."
She reached out, and I took her hand. Cold, but still warm to me.
"I'm so scared," I admitted. "I thought… What if…"
She squeezed my hand. "Yuki," she murmured. "It's okay. I'm here."
I cleared my throat, ashamed of the panic in it. "I didn't go with Sayoko and Haru. I thought I couldn't handle it."
She watched me quietly. "I wouldn't have blamed you," she said, a faint laugh escaping her.
"You always know how to make me feel guilty," I joked, through tears.
She brushed my hair aside. "Just come here," she whispered.
I leaned in, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I missed you so much," I said. "I thought… What if this was goodbye?"
"But it's not goodbye," she whispered. "I'm still here. I'm fighting."
I cupped her face gently. "You don't have to say anything. Just… stay."
She nodded. "I will."
And we sat in silence, holding each other, in that quiet hospital room—just her and me.