Chapter 17: "Unspoken Words"

The atmosphere seemed different that morning. Perhaps it was the lingering frailty from his fever, or perhaps it was something different altogether. Haruto Kirigami did not know.

He entered the classroom as he normally did, his face unreadable, but as soon as he entered, his eyes involuntarily shifted toward one individual—Nasaki Kitta.

She sat at her desk, chatty with a friend as always, but there was something wrong. Usually, she would even give him a look, a playful insult or a mere acknowledgment of his existence. Today, she didn't.

She was deliberately staying away from him.

Haruto sat down and rested his chin on his palm. He tried to focus on the morning lecture, but his mind wandered back to yesterday—the warmth of Nasaki's hand against his forehead, the concern in her voice, and the way she had whispered, "Because it's you, idiot."

The words replayed in his head like a song stuck on repeat.

Nasaki, on the other hand, was restless. She had spent the entire night thinking about what she had said. Because it's you, idiot. Did Haruto even catch that? Did he think about it at all?

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. I'm overthinking. He probably forgot already.

Nasaki sat in her place by the window, nibbling at her sandwich in small bites as she gazed out. The cafeteria was bustling, as it always was, with the familiar sounds of chatter and laughter from students.

Then, abruptly—

A chair scraped beside her.

She glanced over, and there he was. Haruto, sitting beside her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her heart missed a beat.

"You—" She cut herself off, hearing how out of breath she sounded. Swallowing, she began again. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm fine," Haruto said, unwrapping his lunch. His tone was level, but his movements weren't—he was drumming his fingers on the tabletop, a slight giveaway to his tension.

Nasaki didn't know what to do. She had spent the morning dodging him, and then suddenly he appeared beside her? What was she to do about this?

And then, a moment of strained silence—

"Thank you. for yesterday."

Her breath caught.

It was nothing—a humble thank you, but from Haruto, and it meant everything.

Nasaki hastily glanced away at her lunch. "It was nothing," she said quickly, attempting a nonchalant tone.

Haruto looked at her for a moment, seeing how she was fidgeting. He did not bring it up again. He simply nodded slightly and turned away.

The two of them sat eating in silence. Not that it was an awkward silence. It was something else—something delicate, something unsaid.

And yet, neither of them dared to voice it.

The rest of the day was like an anomaly.

Haruto couldn't help sneaking glances at Nasaki more than he'd care to admit. And Nasaki—trying her best to be normal—kept finding herself thinking about him.

A couple of classmates even began to notice.

"Hey, Haruto," one of them joked. "You and Nasaki have been acting kinda weird lately."

Haruto blinked. "Weird?"

"Yeah, you know. Sitting together, talking less but staring at each other more—kinda suspicious, don't you think?"

Nasaki, overhearing the conversation, immediately turned away, pretending to be focused on her book.

Haruto simply gave an uninterested shrug. "You're imagining things."

But deep down, even he wasn't sure if that was true.

After school, Haruto took the longer route home.

It was something he rarely did. He usually avoided crowded areas, preferring to take shortcuts. But today, without even thinking, his feet led him past the café Nasaki often visited.

He approached it.

The golden light of the café lights glowed on the glass window, and through the window, he saw a couple of students talking over coffee. His gaze combed the room, but Nasaki was not there.

For reasons he could not quite explain, that fact made his chest constrict.

He balled his fists. What am I even doing?

At the same time, in another part of town, Nasaki was sitting on her bed, gazing at the cold compress she had applied to Haruto yesterday.

She exhaled, clutching it firmly in her palms.

"What am I even doing…?" she murmured.

Neither of them knew.

But one thing was certain—something between them was shifting.

Something they could no longer deny.