Chapter 16: A Step Closer

Haruto Kirigami wasn't the kind of person who let weakness creep through. Whatever he was tired, angry, or in pain from, he always kept inside, behind the mask of his cold and unconcerned demeanor. But seated at his desk that morning with his head laid on his hand, he couldn't help it—he felt terrible.

The fever had taken hold overnight, his body throbbing with the effort of walking in the rain without an umbrella. He had slept little, and the thudding in his head made him unable to concentrate on what the teacher was saying.

"Haruto?"

A voice jerked him out of his reverie. He shifted his head a bit to find Nasaki Kitta gazing at him, her brows creased with worry.

"You look terrible," she breathed.

Haruto took a slow breath. "I'm fine."

Nasaki didn't believe him. "You're pale, and you're spacing out. Don't try to tell me you caught a cold from yesterday?"

"I said I'm fine," he growled, focusing on the board again.

But just as he did, his vision blurred for a moment, and a wave of dizziness hit him. He felt his body sway slightly, gripping the edge of the desk to steady himself. Nasaki's eyes widened, and before he could say another word, she leaned in closer.

"That's it. You're going to the infirmary."

"I told you, I—"

Before he could continue, the bell sounded, ending the class. Nasaki quickly got up and took his arm.

"Let's go, Haruto."

Her tone allowed no debate.

The trek to the infirmary seemed longer than it ever had before. Haruto detested this—being weak, being taken care of, being a burden on someone. He clenched his teeth, fighting the need to shove Nasaki away as she walked close behind him, her hand lightly on his sleeve.

When they reached the infirmary, the nurse looked at Haruto and let out a sigh.

"You should have come sooner. Your fever is high," she told him, waving for him to get onto the bed.

Haruto paused, but Nasaki glared at him, challenging him to speak. With a sigh, he sat on the bed, resting back on the pillow.

Nasaki folded her arms. "See? I said so. You're irresponsible."

Haruto closed his eyes, too tired to speak.

The nurse held out a cold pack to Nasaki. "Since you brought him in, would you care to stay for a while? Just until his fever breaks?"

Nasaki blinked but nodded. "Of course."

Haruto's eyes creaked open slightly. "You don't have to—"

"Shut up," Nasaki said, applying the cold compress to his forehead. "Just sleep."

He huffed but didn't protest further. The chill on his skin was soothing, and against his will, his body relaxed.

There was only silence for a while.

Then, in a voice almost a whisper, Haruto muttered, "Why do you even care so much?"

Nasaki's breath hitched, caught off guard.

A few seconds passed before she muttered back, "Because it's you, idiot."

Haruto's tired eyes flickered open, but before he could say anything, Nasaki quickly looked away, pretending to focus on adjusting the compress.

Haruto couldn't say when he lost his way, but his fevered brain brought him into a fog of recollections. His previous rejection assailed him—the time he had had the courage to open his heart, only to be greeted by indifference.

It was something he hadn't thought of in years, but now, where he lay with Nasaki at his side, it came flooding back.

Semi-conscious, he found himself talking.

"I tried once…" he whispered.

Nasaki stared at him. "Tried what?"

"To open up to someone. To… trust them." His voice was raspy, far away. "But it didn't make a difference. I was just an idiot for believing I was worth something to them."

Nasaki's heart constricted. She had never heard him speak this way before—so naked, so vulnerable.

"Haruto…," she said softly.

She paused for a moment before putting her hand on his forehead, as if hoping to soothe him. "Not everyone will hurt you, Haruto."

He didn't answer, but for the first time, she saw something vulnerable in his face—something he had been keeping hidden for so long.

She didn't know why, but she wanted to guard that part of him.

Haruto slept for a bit, his fever gradually abating. Nasaki remained next to him, observing the regular rise and fall of his chest.

She wasn't sure when it had begun—this compulsion to always take care of him, to always fret over him. She had assured herself it was simply because they were classmates, perhaps even friends.

But was that truly all?

She recalled how he had lent her his umbrella, not a hesitation in sight. How he stood there, wet from the rain, just to make sure she wouldn't get wet.

How his eyes crinkled a little at the corners when he looked at her.

She spoke before she knew it, and said softly, "Perhaps I do like you."

Her eyes opened wide the instant she knew what she had uttered. She immediately averted her gaze, her heart racing in her chest.

Haruto shifted uncomfortably, his lips opening. Half-asleep, he groggily whispered, "Nasaki…"

She stiffened.

Did he just call out her name?

She gulped hard, getting up hastily. "I-I should go."

With a mournful glance back at the sleeping form of Haruto, she slipped and ran from the infirmary, her heart pounding in a way she couldn't explain.

And as Haruto rested there, feverish but waking slowly, a faint, barely perceptible smile played at the edge of his mouth.

Perhaps, perhaps. this time would be different.