That afternoon, the division room felt colder than usual. Not the kind of cold caused by AC or the spring wind sneaking through the window gaps, but a cold born from a suffocating silence. The sun, nearly set, gave off a sharp orange glow, almost like the color of rust or dried blood. The light split the room into two contrasting sides: a blinding light and a thick shadow, as if the room was depicting my own split internal state.
The sliding door opened slowly. There was no longer the cheerful greeting I usually threw out with excessive energy to cover my anxiety. No more wide smile forced so everyone would feel comfortable.
I entered with a heavy gait. Every step felt weighted, as if I were dragging the burden of the entire school building on my shoulders. My eyes were puffy and red, stinging from the tears that had kept flowing down the corridor earlier. I sat in the same chair as yesterday, but this time I felt much smaller. I felt as if this wooden chair was the only dry land in the middle of a vast ocean that had just drowned my whole world.
"I... I did it," I whispered. My voice broke, hoarse from the suppressed sobs. "I said everything, Reina... Izumi... I said I was tired of pretending. I said I hated it when they mocked others."
I looked down, staring at the wooden table blurred by my own shadow. "And now... I have no one left. In class earlier, after Madoka left, not a single person dared to look me in the eye. When I passed to get my bag, they immediately started whispering. I could feel their stares... it was like thousands of needles piercing my skin. I've become an anomaly. I've become a stranger in the place I've called home for a year."
Reina didn't respond immediately. She remained calm, almost like a porcelain statue untouched by human emotion. With very precise and graceful movements, she poured tea into her porcelain cup. The sound of the flowing water and the soft clink of the cup felt very loud in my silence. To me, that sound was like a death knell for the social life I'd fought for with tears and lies.
"Congratulations," Reina said flatly.
I looked up in disbelief. My chest felt tight. "Congratulations? Reina, didn't you hear? I just lost all my friends! I just destroyed my reputation! I don't have a place to sit in the cafeteria tomorrow!"
"You didn't lose friends, Minami-san. You just discarded the parasites that have been sucking out your identity," Reina replied, sipping her tea calmly. Her eyes met mine, sharp but not judgmental. "People who distance themselves just because you stated a different opinion were never friends. They are just a bunch of people seeking security by oppressing individuals. You should be grateful because from today on, you don't need to spend your precious energy just to please shallow people who don't even care about the true color of your soul."
"But it hurts!" I hit the table softly, letting a single tear fall and wet the wood surface. "You don't understand, Reina... you've always been strong alone. But for me, it hurts when there's no place to go home to in class... when you enter a room and realize your presence is no longer wanted."
In the corner of the room, Nakamura-kun, who had been leaning against the wall by the window, finally spoke. He stared at the darkening sky, his face half-covered in shadow.
"Oi, don't overdo it. A 'place to go home to' in class is just an illusion created by people who are afraid of being alone," he said with a lazy tone, but there was a bitter honesty there.
"School society is like a pond ecosystem. As soon as there's a fish with a different color, the other fish move away because they're afraid a predator will come. Listen, Minami. You feel pain not because they left you, but because you're still trying to measure your worth based on their view. You feel 'shattered' because you're still holding on to that stupid doctrine that being alone is a failure."
I stared at him with wet eyes. "Then... isn't it a failure? You're always alone... does it really not hurt? Do you never feel like screaming because no one hears you?"
Nakamura-kun gave a short laugh—a dry, cynical laugh filled with the residue of a dark past.
"Hurt? Maybe at the start. But there's pride behind an honest solitude," he walked closer and stood in front of her desk, looking me right in the eye. "When you're alone, you don't have to lie to yourself. You don't have to be anxious every morning about whether your laugh was just right to please others, or if your opinion will ruin the fake mood they've built. Being a loner is the purest form of independence. You don't need validation from a bunch of idiots to feel that you exist and are valuable."
He paused for a moment, letting his words soak into my noisy head.
"You wanted to speak honestly, right? And you did it today. That was the bravest act I've ever seen in this school, Minami. Much braver than the 'class hero' Kazuya Akabane who always tries to maintain a fake peace by burying conflicts under the rug. You've stopped being a coward."
I was stunned. His words, though harsh and lacking standard empathy, felt like a very strong medicine. I wiped my tears with my uniform sleeve, looking at Reina and Nakamura-kun in turn. In this room, between the two people considered the weirdest in school, I actually felt... acknowledged.
"So... what should I do now? Tomorrow... what do I do when the bell rings and I have to walk past Madoka's desk?"
Reina put down her cup, giving me her full attention. "Enter the class with your head held high. Not because you're arrogant, but because you no longer have the burden of lying. If no one talks to you, then don't talk to them. Use your time for things you actually like. Read a book, listen to music, or just stare at the sky. Didn't you say you wanted to be yourself? This is the time, Minami-san. Freedom is indeed cold, but the air is much fresher."
I was silent for a long time. The silence this time didn't feel suffocating anymore. I began to realize that my fear all this time was just the shadow of the walls I'd built myself.
A small smile—very thin, fragile, yet sincere—started to appear on my lips.
"You two... are really weird," I muttered, laughing softly through the remains of my sobs. "Your way of comforting people is completely out of this world. But... somehow, talking to you makes me feel a little lighter. Even though your words are so harsh and not sweet at all."
"That's called honesty without artificial sweeteners. You've already eaten too much sugar in Madoka's group," Nakamura-kun said, grabbing his worn-out bag. "Welcome to the real world, Minami. A world where you might be hated for being yourself, but at least you won't feel sick or want to vomit seeing your reflection in the mirror every morning."
I stood up, trying to tidy my slightly wrinkled uniform and wiping the last traces of tears from my cheeks. I felt tired, so tired, but beneath that fatigue, there was a spark of spirit I'd never felt before.
"Tomorrow... may I come here again? I mean... this chair won't be given to someone else, right?"
Reina reopened her book, hiding her expression behind the white pages. "This room is open to anyone with problems they can't solve themselves. And it seems your adaptation as an 'honest person' in the midst of a society full of lies will take a very long time."
I smiled widely. I knew Kurokawa Reina's way of speaking. That was her way of saying I was accepted here.
"That means yes, right? Hehe!" I laughed, the sound clear this time. "See you tomorrow, Reina-chan! Izumin!"
"Izumin...?" Nakamura-kun knitted his brows, looking very bothered by that name. "What kind of name is that? Sounds like the name of an insect or bacteria."
But I didn't care. I ran out of the room feeling much lighter. As I walked down the corridor, now quiet and dark, I no longer felt afraid of the shadows. I no longer felt the need to check my phone anxiously.
In the room I left behind, silence descended again, but this time it felt much friendlier.
"Izumin, huh?" Reina's voice sounded faint as the door almost closed. "A fitting name for a solitary bacteria like you."
"Whatever," Nakamura-kun grumbled.
Night began to fall over Meiwa High. And under the streetlights flickering on one by one, I realized one thing for sure: It seemed my life would never be the same again. And for the first time, I felt that was a very good thing.
I would be hated, I would be ignored, and I might spend a lot of time alone. But in that old building, there were two weird people waiting for me with warm tea and bitter honesty. And for me, that was more than enough.