Kenji sat at the back of the art room, head bent low over his sketchbook. Around him, laughter and chatter swirled softly, but it felt distant , like a conversation happening underwater.
He drew the same shape over and over again: three figures under a tree. Two of them close together, one apart. He didn't know why he kept drawing it, but the lines felt familiar.
A chair scraped behind him.
"Kenji?"
He didn't look up. The voice was soft, tentative. Aoi was standing beside him, holding her sketchbook against her chest like a shield.
"You've been quiet all day," she said, leaning slightly toward him.
"I'm fine," he muttered without looking up.
She frowned. "You always say that. But you don't sound fine."
Kenji gave a short laugh, the kind that sounded tired. "I guess I'm always tired."
Aoi sighed and sat beside him. She didn't need to ask for permission. Her shoulder brushed his. Kenji flinched slightly but didn't move away.
For a long moment, neither spoke. She watched him draw, and he pretended not to notice.
Finally, Aoi said, "What are you drawing?"
He didn't answer at first. Then "Nothing important."
She peered over his shoulder. "It looks like… us."
Kenji froze. "It's not."
"It is," she said softly. "Look — there's you. There's me. And there's Seiji."
He set his pencil down. "Doesn't matter. It's just a stupid sketch."
"It matters," she said. Her voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made him look at her. "Why won't you talk to me?"
Kenji stared at the paper. "Because I don't fit. You and Seiji… you're both so… normal. You laugh. You talk. You belong in the same world. I'm just a quiet nerd who sits in the back of class and draws things nobody cares about."
Aoi tilted her head. "That's not true."
He chuckled bitterly. "It is. You probably don't even notice me half the time. And if you do… you probably don't care."
Her hand hovered over his sketchbook, then pulled back. "I care. But you never let me in. You push people away before they even have a chance."
Kenji looked away. "Maybe because people like you don't notice people like me. You notice him. Seiji. Because he's loud. Funny. Easy to talk to."
Aoi's voice softened. "You think I like him?"
He didn't answer. He just stared at the sketch again, the three figures under the tree. The two together, and the one apart.
"It's fine," he said finally. "I get it. You probably like him because he's… normal. I'm just the quiet nerd. Nobody notices."
Aoi's eyes lingered on him. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something, but she stayed silent.
The bell rang. She stood up slowly. "See you after class?"
Kenji didn't answer. She glanced back once, her expression unreadable, before walking away.
Kenji sat there, still staring at the paper, his pencil pressed against it until the page tore.
The sketch was ruined.
But the feeling in his chest stayed.