The morning sun crept through the curtains, but its light felt heavier than usual. Riku, still in Mei's body, sat upright in bed, his expression dull, drained. He stared blankly at the wall as if trying to remember a dream that slipped through his fingers.
"I wasted Day 7," he muttered under his breath, voice hollow. The memory of doing nothing, of lying in silence while time moved on, gnawed at his chest.
He walked to the mirror and stared at Mei's face. Her expression was neutral, but his eyes—her eyes—were filled with quiet disappointment.
"I only have three days left..."
The words echoed, heavy like a countdown to something irreversible.
Downstairs, the usual breakfast routine awaited. Mei's mother greeted him with a smile, completely unaware of the soul inside her daughter's body. He could hardly meet her eyes. The weight of pretending grew harder with each passing day.
At school, the halls felt quieter than usual—or maybe it was just him. Hoshino hadn't arrived yet, and Riku found himself waiting, scanning the entrance.
"Why do I keep looking for her?" he asked himself, frustrated.
When Hoshino finally walked in, their eyes met. She smiled gently, as if she understood something he didn't.
"I thought you'd be absent today," she said. "After all, yesterday you disappeared."
"I... had some things to think about," Riku replied vaguely.
Hoshino didn't press further. Instead, she whispered, "Let's not waste today."
Her words struck deeper than he expected. Maybe because they echoed his own regret. He followed her quietly to the back of the school, where they often talked. There was a breeze, and the sakura trees were beginning to bloom.
"I want to go out," she said suddenly. "After school. Just us. Shopping, dinner... something new."
Riku almost said no, the words formed in his throat, but he paused.
Something new...
He remembered the taste of silence yesterday. The loneliness. Maybe this could be different.
"Fine," he said. "But you're paying."
Hoshino laughed. "Deal."
As the bell rang, the day truly began. But this time, it wasn't just about going through the motions. For the first time in days, Riku felt something stir within him.
A sliver of curiosity.
A chance to feel alive again.
Afternoon
The sun dipped lower as school ended. Students spilled from the gates, laughing and chatting. Riku walked silently beside Hoshino, the noise around him muffled by the storm in his head.
He hadn't forgotten. Not the video. Not the humiliation.
Not Asahi.
Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the way Asahi smirked, the way his voice sounded when he exposed him—Mei—that day.
As they neared the station, they spotted him.
Asahi.
By himself, under the rusted roof of an alleyway store, typing something on his phone.
Riku stopped walking. His blood felt hot.
"Go ahead," he said to Hoshino, voice low. "I'll catch up."
Hoshino glanced at him. Something in her chest tightened. "Riku... don't do anything stupid."
But he was already turning.
Riku approached him, slow but determined. Asahi looked up, eyes narrowing.
"Well, well. The princess speaks."
That grin again.
"You think you're clever," Riku said. "But I'm not playing games anymore."
Asahi raised an eyebrow, cocky. "Oh? What are you gonna do? Hit me? Cry again?"
Riku didn't answer.
Instead, he grabbed Asahi by the collar and shoved him hard—straight into a puddle at the edge of the alley.
His phone slipped from his hand and sank into the dirty rainwater.
"I didn't delete the video," Riku growled. "I destroyed the phone."
Asahi coughed, scrambling up from the ground, soaked.
"You psycho!" he shouted. "Do you even know what you just—?!"
Then he stopped.
Paused.
Looked at his phone.
Still on.
Water dripping from the sides, screen glowing faintly.
Riku's heart sank. "What?"
Asahi laughed. "Idiot. It's waterproof."
He wiped it with his sleeve. "Still works. Video's backed up anyway. Cloud, dumbass."
Riku's fists clenched. The humiliation. The hopelessness. The fire burned hotter.
"You really wanna play with me?" Asahi sneered. "I could ruin you. Again."
But Riku didn't back down. His voice was cold.
"Then I'll ruin you first."
Asahi blinked, confused for the first time.
Because Riku's expression—Mei's face—wasn't angry anymore.
It was calm.
Dangerously calm.
Riku turned and walked away.
But in his mind, a vow had already taken root:
Three days left. No more mercy.
Staff Room Revelation
Rain fell heavily, drenching the world in cold silence. Riku, in Mei Aihara's body, stood outside the staff room, water dripping from his hair. His heart pounded, fists clenched.
"I'll tell the teachers," he whispered to himself.
"I'll expose everything… even if no one believes me."
He pushed the sliding door open.
The room was quiet. Teachers glanced up from their tea and paperwork.
One of them—Vice Principal Mori—looked up with narrowed eyes.
"Yes? What is it?"
Riku bowed stiffly. "I want to report something. About bullying. About Asahi Keinji."
Vice Principal Mori raised a brow.
"And your name?"
"…Mei Aihara."
Murmurs spread among the teachers.
Mori opened a file drawer and pulled out a beige folder. "Mei Aihara…"
He flipped it open, eyes scanning the printed sheets.
"You already have five complaints filed against you," he said flatly.
Riku blinked. "What…?"
"Accusations of lying, bullying, violence. You beat a classmate, disrespected staff, and caused disruption."
"No. No—I didn't do that!" Riku shouted. "That's not Mei! She never bullied anyone! You're wrong!"
But Mori continued, unmoved. "All of these complaints were thoroughly reviewed. The school board dismissed them."
Riku's voice trembled. "This… this doesn't make sense."
He took a breath. "Can I know who filed those complaints?"
Mori hesitated. "That information isn't usually—"
"I need to know. Please," Riku said firmly.
Mori sighed. "Fine. For the record."
He pulled out a list and read the names aloud:
"Filed by… Riku ,Asahi and Keinji."
Riku froze.
"What?" he whispered.
His hands shook. His chest felt tight, like he couldn't breathe.
"I… filed the complaints? Against Mei?"
His mind reeled. Memories scrambled, but nothing came. Just fragments of cold glares… silence… Mei alone in the corner… and him, walking past her.
"But I never—Mei didn't—" he stuttered.
He turned away, dazed, and stumbled out of the staff room into the rain.
Hallway – Rain against the windows
Riku stopped by the window, watching the drops race down the glass.
"…What did I do?"
The truth was beginning to unravel—and he didn't like what he was finding.
The rain had grown heavier, painting the world in silver sheets.
Riku stumbled out of the building, dazed. His shoes splashed through puddles as he walked down the empty path beside the school.
He wasn't thinking clearly.
His mind was spinning.
"I never complained about Mei…"
"Why was my name on the complaint?"
"What else did I forget…?"
The cold rain soaked through his uniform.
But he didn't care.
His fists were clenched. His breath came in sharp bursts.
He stopped under a tree—the same Sakura tree from earlier.
Riku looked up at the grey sky.
"What if… I really did bully Mei?"
"What if I was no better than Asahi…?"
His legs gave out. He sank to his knees on the soaked ground.
Then—
A soft sound behind him.
Footsteps.
He turned.
A figure stood there, holding a white umbrella.
Hoshino Rika.
The calm third-year girl with steady eyes.
She stepped closer without a word and extended the umbrella above his head, sheltering him from the rain.
"…You'll catch a cold," she said softly.
Riku stared up at her, eyes wide.
"Why are you here?" he asked, voice low.
She tilted her head gently. "I saw you from the window."
"I didn't ask for help."
"I know," she said simply. "But Mei would have never said that either."
There was silence between them—only the rain tapping against the umbrella.
"…Did I really hurt her?" Riku asked, almost in a whisper.
His voice cracked. "Am I… like Mei?"
Hoshino looked at him, eyes soft but firm.
"I don't know what you did," she said. "But if you're asking yourself that question… maybe it's time you found the truth."
Riku slowly stood up.
Water dripped from his clothes, but the warmth of the umbrella above him felt strangely grounding.
"Come," Hoshino said. "Let's get you dry."