The library had never felt this loud.
Not because anyone was speaking. They weren't. The whispers were as quiet as always, the footsteps soft against the carpet.
But in Aira's chest, there was a clamor. A low, aching throb that wouldn't settle.
She sat in her usual corner, sketchbook open, pencil unmoving. The ivy by the window swayed slightly in the breeze, casting rippling shadows across the desk.
Her eyes kept drifting to the page.
A half-finished drawing of Leo. Not smiling. Just… thoughtful. The way he looked when listening. She'd captured the angle of his gaze perfectly. Too perfectly.
She wanted to tear it out. But couldn't.
---
When she'd asked to talk to him, she hadn't meant to cause anything.
She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say.
Just that she couldn't carry it anymore—the weight of feeling something for someone who was already slowly slipping into someone else's orbit.
And Leo had been kind.
Too kind.
He didn't reject her.
But he didn't reach for her either.
It was the kind of response that didn't leave bruises—but left a bruise-shaped emptiness.
---
Afterward, Aira had walked home alone. The sun had felt too bright. Her bag too heavy. The silence too familiar.
That night, she didn't draw.
Didn't read.
Just lay in bed, eyes open in the dark, listening to the quiet ticking of her clock.
She thought of Leo's face when he said, "Thank you."
And the way his shoulders relaxed when she didn't cry or press him further.
She'd made it easy for him.
And maybe that was the problem.
---
On Wednesday, she saw Leo and Yuki walking together near the vending machines. Yuki reached up to fix his collar, laughing at something he said.
Leo looked... happy.
That was good.
Wasn't it?
Aira turned the corner before they saw her.
Back in the art room, she sat alone, mixing colors for a project she had no real feeling for.
Hana passed by once, gave her a small wave. Aira waved back.
No words.
Not even in her head.
---
Thursday morning, her mother noticed she was quiet.
"You're not eating much," she said, setting down a plate of tamagoyaki.
Aira blinked. "I'm okay."
"You don't look okay."
Aira poked at the egg roll with her chopsticks.
"It's just school stuff."
Her mother sighed. "Well, sometimes hearts hurt too. Doesn't mean you should starve them."
Aira looked up.
"Thanks."
She smiled.
It didn't reach her eyes.
---
Thursday evening, it rained.
The kind of soft drizzle that painted the windows in slow-moving trails. Aira didn't mind the rain. She liked the sound. Liked how it blurred everything.
She sat by her window, a cup of warm barley tea in hand, sketchbook on her lap.
And finally, she drew.
Not Leo.
Not Yuki.
Herself.
Small. Sitting beneath a blooming tree that didn't notice her.
But she was smiling.
A small smile. Real. Tired. But honest.
Because even if no one saw her feelings, she saw them.
And sometimes, that had to be enough.
---
Friday. The week had stretched long, quiet, and gray.
In literature class, the teacher spoke about unrequited love in poetry.
Aira didn't raise her hand.
She doodled instead. A pair of shoes at the edge of a puddle. No reflection.
After class, she lingered. Let the others leave first. It was easier that way.
In the hallway, she spotted Leo. Talking with Kai. Smiling.
She wasn't sure what she expected. A glance? A nod?
Instead, Leo noticed her. And paused.
Their eyes met. Just briefly.
He gave her a small, unsure smile.
Aira lifted her hand. A little wave.
And walked past.
She didn't cry.
She didn't feel brave.
But she felt… free. Just a little.
That night, she drew again.
This time, a girl walking alone.
But the sky above her was filled with stars.