The next day felt heavier than usual. As I walked through the long halls, it became obvious that people were staring. Not directly, but with sideways glances and muffled whispers that followed me like a shadow.
I hadn't seen Ichika all morning. My phone had been flooded with notifications, texts, and missed calls, but I ignored them all.
When I finally entered the classroom, Kudo looked up from his desk. His expression was more serious than usual, which was rare for him.
"Hey." I greeted, trying to sound normal.
"Kenji…" Kudo's voice was quieter than usual. "I didn't know you drank."
"I don't."
"Then what happened? You made out with a girl in front of everyone and didn't even care? I didn't know you were that kind of guy."
"I'm not," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Someone got shoved. I lost my balance and fell on her. That's all it was."
Kudo gave me a skeptical look but eventually nodded. "Alright. I believe you. You don't seem like the playboy type."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Still," he added, "I heard all the people talking about it this morning."
"Oh…"
"I'm sorry," he said. "I just thought you should know what's going around."
I couldn't answer. My throat was tight. My fists clenched under the desk. This wasn't just a misunderstanding anymore.
I looked away, my stomach churning, and my heart dropped.
"It's worse than I imagined," I said quietly.
Kudo nodded. "It's nothing, it will go away in a week.."
I was about to cry, but then-
"Pretty bad situation you're in," Ayumi said, I was glancing down at her shoes before looking up again.
Can't cry right now.
"I-I know…" I replied.
"You can't explain it to everyone," she said plainly.
"I know that, too."
Kudo, thoughtful for once, chimed in. "It spreads like a virus. But if you spread the truth the same way, maybe that could work."
Both Ayumi and I looked at him in surprise.
"That's… smart," I said.
"In theory," Ayumi agreed. "You tell a few people the truth. Let them pass it on. If the story spreads fast enough, it might cancel out the damage."
I was surprised she was offering advice at all. "Wait… how did you know it was an accident?"
Ayumi raised an eyebrow. "You're not that kind of person. You wouldn't do something like that on purpose."
That caught me off guard.
Kudo perked up. "Then Ayumi and I can help. We'll tell people the truth whenever we hear someone talking."
"I never agreed to that," Ayumi said. "Nakamura is popular enough to handle this herself."
"But Kenji is your friend. Doesn't that mean something?" Kudo asked, frowning.
"It's not my problem," she said with a shrug.
"That's selfish."
"Maybe it is," Ayumi replied. "But I never said I wasn't selfish." With that, she turned and walked back to her seat.
More students entered the classroom, their eyes flicking toward me before quickly looking away again.
Then the teacher walked in, and class began as if nothing had happened. But I knew better.
As the teacher droned on, I stared blankly at the board, pretending to take notes while my thoughts spiraled. Kudo's idea clung to me like a shadow. Spread the truth like a virus. Could it work?
I caught myself glancing at Ayumi, who sat with her arms crossed, eyes fixed out the window. She looked bored, distant, and completely uninterested in whatever the teacher was saying. And yet, a few minutes ago, she'd stood up for me. In her way.
Kudo nudged me under the desk. I turned slightly, and he flashed a thumbs-up. I gave him a half-hearted smile in return, still unsure if this plan was a genius idea or a recipe for disaster.
The bell rang, snapping me back to the present. The classroom erupted in movement, chairs scraping, bags rustling, voices overlapping like a broken radio.
I stood slowly, not sure what to do next.
I didn't look up. I couldn't. I could feel it all around me, eyes. Whispers. Silence, but not the comforting kind. The kind that stretches too long, wraps around your throat like a rope. That silence that follows after your name has been dragged through the mud, and everyone has heard it.
I left.
Didn't wait for Kudo, didn't check if Ayumi was still around. I just stood, grabbed my stuff too fast, and walked out like the building was burning. My legs carried me down the hall on autopilot, head low, like guilt had a physical weight and it was dragging my spine downward.
Someone called my name. Aoi.
He wasn't a friend. Just a familiar face, a blur from middle school. I kept walking. He kept up.
"You did that to her?" His voice was light, casual, like we were talking about the weather. "To Nakamura?"
My throat clenched. I slowed down a little.
"N-No. It wasn't like that," I said quickly, desperate to cut the narrative off before it finished forming. "It was an a-accident."
He didn't look at me. "Mmhmm."
"I didn't mean to hurt her. I-I wasn't thinking. It just,"
Aoi laughed. Laughed. Just a single breath of it, sharp and dry.
"I hope you go to hell." he said.
And just like that, he turned and walked off.
I stood there in the middle of the hallway, frozen like I'd just been hit. My hands were cold. I couldn't tell if I was angry or terrified, maybe both. Maybe something worse.
Then came the voices. From behind me. Ahead. All around.
"I heard she wanted him."
"No, he assaulted her in front of everyone!"
"Nakamura? She's like… the nicest person ever. What the hell's wrong with him?"
Every word chipped away at me like hammers against thin glass.
I ducked into the bathroom. I didn't even think about it. My legs just carried me there, like it was instinct, like the last place I could hide.
The cold tile floor. The hum of the flickering light. The sour stench of bleach. I shoved open the last stall and slammed it shut behind me. Locked it.
Sat down on the closed toilet seat and stared at nothing.
I don't know how long I sat there.
At some point, I realized I was gripping my bag so tightly my knuckles ached. My jaw hurt too. I'd been clenching it the whole time. My heart was thudding like it didn't want to be in my chest anymore.
And then the thoughts came.
This isn't fair.
I didn't even do anything.
Why the hell won't anyone listen?
Why won't they just ask?
But nobody did. Nobody wanted to hear my side. They just wanted a villain.
I rested my head in my hands. The silence wasn't peaceful here, it was suffocating. And every breath hurt.
Maybe this is who I am now. Maybe you get one mistake, even if it's not a real one, and after that, boom. You're marked.
People say rumors die fast. But they don't die. They rot. They infect everything.
And once someone decides you're a monster, it doesn't matter what you say. Nobody listens to monsters.
A noise outside the stall startled me, just the bathroom door opening. Someone is walking in. I didn't breathe. Didn't move.
Two voices. Two guys.
"I can't believe someone did that to my crash!"
The words hit me like a brick.
"It's okay bro, relax, there's just bad people in the world…"
"She looked shaken… Everyone… Saw it…"
"They both left the party right after that," "I don't think it was… unconsensually."
"Doesn't matter," the guy said coldly. "If he did that with no consent, that's at least sexual assault…"
"We should beat the living sh*t out of him." He added.
My stomach dropped.
I curled in tighter, like I could shrink myself into nothing. I wanted to disappear. Not metaphorically, actually. I wanted not to exist. Not until this was over. Not until people forgot. Not until I could walk through a hallway without being a punchline.
The door creaked open. A few stalls down.
My fingers dug into my jeans. My whole body was trembling, but I wasn't cold. It was fear. Rage. Shame. All of it twisting into something dark and bitter in my chest.
"Just relax.. Let's go."
Footsteps. Door closing.
I stayed there for ten more minutes. Maybe more.
Eventually, I stood, unlocked the door, and stepped out. My reflection in the mirror looked like someone I didn't recognize.
My eyes were red. My face was pale. There were bags under my eyes, and something empty behind them. Like something had cracked open, and part of me had just… slipped out.
I turned the faucet on. Splashing water on my face didn't fix anything. It just made me feel colder.
I looked in the mirror one more time, then turned away. I couldn't stand to look anymore.
And I said the only thing that felt real in that moment.
"…I wish I could just die."
I didn't know how long I wandered. Hallways blurred into stairwells, lockers into windows. The world felt too bright, too loud. Every laugh sounded like it was aimed at me. Every glance felt sharp.
I just needed to get outside. Air. Distance. Something.
The courtyard was nearly empty, just a few students wandering near the fence, laughing about something I didn't want to know. I moved past them quickly, eyes on the ground.
"Hey."
I froze.
It was a voice I didn't recognize. Not Aoi. Not Kudo. Not anyone I'd ever talked to. But I knew the tone. That fake calm. That voice people use when they've already decided they hate you.
I looked up.
Three guys. Uniforms loose, posture casual, but I saw it in their eyes. That simmering, judgmental anger people carry when they think they're doing something righteous.
"You're Yamamoto Kenji, right?" the tallest one asked. His lip curled like just saying my name made him sick.
I said nothing. My throat was dry.
Another guy stepped closer. "So what happened at that party, huh? Everyone's talking."
"I-I wasn't even at a party…" I lied, barely above a whisper.
The third one scoffed. "Bullshit. Nakamura looked wrecked. You're saying that's a coincidence?"
"I didn't do anything to her," I said. "It was-there's no party, I swear, that's just a rumor-"
"Right," the tall one interrupted. "And all those people just made it up? You think we're stupid?"
"No, I-I"
Fist.
That's all I saw. A flash of movement. Then the pain.
My jaw exploded with heat. My teeth slammed together. I stumbled sideways, nearly fell.
"Say that again!?" the guy hissed.
I blinked. Tried to focus. The taste of blood hit my tongue.
"I-I didn't! Please stop!" I mumbled, clutching my face.
I started to run.
I couldn't fight.
The voices grew louder behind me, mocking, sharp, cruel.
"Coward."
"Creep."
"Stay the f*ck away from her!"
I didn't look back.
I ran straight to my dorm. The stairs were faster. I took them two at a time, lungs burning, legs screaming, but I didn't stop.
Once inside, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Then I hid in the bathroom.
I didn't scream.
I didn't cry.
I just lay there with my arms wrapped around myself, as if holding my own body together could stop it from breaking apart. As if there was anything left to protect.
My vision blurred, hot tears burning at the edges, even though I refused to let them fall.
I didn't move.
Maybe if I stayed still long enough, I'd sink into the floor and disappear.
Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
A few minutes later, there was a knock.
My heart jumped. I stayed silent.
"Yamamoto!!"
Ayumi's voice.
I hesitated, then slowly stood and opened the door.