The afternoon was quiet after art club. Kenji stayed near the courtyard, sketchbook in hand, but his mind wasn't on drawing.
From across the schoolyard came soft laughter.
Kenji looked up. Aoi was nearby, talking quietly with a small group of girls. They weren't paying attention to him, but her voice reached him anyway.
He froze. Something in his chest tightened. He stepped closer without thinking, hiding behind a pillar so they wouldn't notice him.
Aoi: "…Honestly, I'm only talking to Kenji so I can get closer to his best friend."
Girl 1: "…What? Seriously?"
Aoi: "Yeah. I mean… he's nice, but it's not about him. It's about Seiji. I want to know him better."
Girl 2: "That's… kind of harsh."
Aoi: (shrugging) "…Maybe. But it's the truth."
Kenji's stomach sank. His sketchbook slipped from his lap, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
He stayed still, breathing shallowly, watching her talk with her friends. The words repeated in his mind.
"…only talking to Kenji so I can get closer to his best friend…"
Every line of his last sketch seemed to blur. The three figures under the tree didn't just look apart anymore, they looked betrayed.
Kenji didn't move until Aoi and her friends walked away, their laughter fading.
He bent down, picked up his sketchbook, and stared at the torn page.
His eyes drifted back toward the art room window, where he had seen her the day before.
Somewhere deep down, Kenji knew things had changed.
Not just between him and Aoi.
Between everything.
For the first time, he wondered if it was already too late.
And he didn't know if he could fix it.