Echoes

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The sun hung low in the sky as a young Kaito walked along the dusty path to school. His small frame carried an invisible weight, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. Around him, children laughed and chattered, their voices light and carefree. But their joy felt like an entirely different world from his own.

Whispers trailed him like an unwelcome shadow.

"That's the guy who cost us the game."

"If only he hadn't missed."

"We could've won if it weren't for him."

Kaito gritted his teeth, his hands balling into fists. The voices grew louder in his mind until they were deafening. Suddenly, he stopped in the middle of the road, his heart pounding as he turned to face his classmates.

"I tried, okay?" he shouted, his voice cracking. "You think I wanted us to lose? Even if I stopped the ball, it was 50/50! Penalties are always luck!"

The group stopped, staring at him with a mix of surprise and disdain. One of them scoffed, "Excuses."

Their expressions didn't soften; their judgment weighed heavier than their words.

As they walked away, Kaito's chest tightened. He wanted to scream again, to force them to understand. But his voice faltered, and all he could do was whisper to himself, "What's the point of trying anymore? Nobody cares."

Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he trudged forward, his footsteps heavy.

Suddenly, the scene dissolved into darkness. Kaito's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding as he stared at the ceiling of his room. The early morning sunlight streamed through the window, painting the plain white walls in muted gold.

He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. "Just a dream," he muttered, though the emotions lingered like a dull ache.

---

Kaito rolled out of bed with a groan, stretching lazily before shuffling to the bathroom. The mirror reflected his disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes, but he didn't care enough to fix either. He brushed his teeth with one hand while scrolling through his phone with the other, yawning every few seconds.

His room was a picture of simplicity. White walls, a neatly made bed, and a desk with only a notebook and a pen. A single framed photo sat on his nightstand, turned away from view. The shelves were mostly empty, save for a few books stacked haphazardly. It was a space that screamed functionality over personality.

In the kitchen, Kaito made himself a plain breakfast: toast and eggs. He ate in silence, staring out the window as the world slowly came to life.

On his way to school, he moved at his own pace, hands in his pockets. Around him, classmates rushed past, their chatter blending into a hum of background noise. He caught snippets of their conversations—homework complaints, weekend plans, idle gossip—but none of it held his interest.

He smirked as he watched them scramble to make it to class on time. "No matter how fast or slow you go," he said to himself, "we all end up in the same place eventually. Life isn't about who gets there first—it's about how you walk the road."

---

As Kaito neared the school gates, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Oi, snail boy! Were you even planning to show up today?"

Kaito turned to see Riku jogging toward him, his wild hair bouncing with each step. Close behind was Sota, who greeted Kaito with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"You're cutting it close," Sota remarked dryly. "Again."

Kaito shrugged. "At least I'm not running like my life depends on it."

Riku laughed, throwing an arm around Kaito's shoulders. "Don't listen to him, man. Some of us have to make an effort to maintain our reputation."

"Yeah," Sota added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because 'class clown' is such a prestigious title."

The three of them burst into laughter, their banter continuing as they walked through the school gates.

From a distance, Maya watched them. She spotted Kaito's easygoing smile, the way he laughed with his friends. Her grip on her bag tightened as a wave of hesitation washed over her.

He looks so… different with them, she thought, her steps faltering.

She considered calling out to him but quickly changed her mind. Her pace slowed until she was trailing far behind. It's better this way, she told herself, though the pang of disappointment in her chest said otherwise.

---

Later that day, Kaito found Maya sitting alone by the window in the art room, her gaze lost in the scenery outside. He approached her, his footsteps soft but deliberate.

"Hey," he greeted casually. "What's up?"

Maya startled slightly but quickly composed herself. "Nothing. Just… thinking."

Kaito leaned against the desk beside her, studying her expression. "You sure? You've been quiet today."

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. Finally, she spoke.

"I… I saw you this morning. With your friends."

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I wanted to say hi, but I didn't. I couldn't…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked down at her hands.

Kaito's expression softened. "Next time, just do it," he said with a small smile. "I don't bite, and neither do they."

Maya looked up, surprised. "You'd… want me to?"

"Of course," Kaito said simply. "You're part of this world too, y'know. No need to keep hiding."

For the first time in a while, Maya felt a sense of ease wash over her. She nodded slowly. "Okay. Next time."

Their conversation shifted to the art project they had been working on. Kaito suggested meeting in the art room tomorrow to finish it and finally submit it. Maya agreed, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation.

As they parted ways, Kaito walked home with a thoughtful expression. The flashback from his dream lingered in his mind, but so did the image of Maya opening up to him.

That evening, he sat at his desk, flipping open his notebook. He began sketching—a simple but symbolic drawing of two hands reaching toward each other. For the first time in a while, he felt a faint sense of connection.

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