feeling I had forgotten (6)

The next morning came with a lingering heaviness. After my talk with Kiyomi, my heart felt... unstable. I couldn't explain why—only that something had changed.

Aika was waiting for me outside, as usual. We exchanged quiet greetings and started walking toward school.

As we reached the gates, I spotted Kiyomi. She noticed me too, but the moment her eyes met mine, her expression dulled—like a cloud had settled over her face. Was she feeling guilty? Or was it something else entirely?

Aika noticed. "Did something happen between you two?" she asked.

I shook my head. "It's nothing."

We walked inside.

During class, Kiyomi avoided looking at me. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. Even as she spoke to Aika, her eyes never drifted toward mine. I tried to ignore it, but my thoughts kept spiraling.

It seemed Aika had asked her about it—perhaps wondering if something had gone wrong between us. Kayomi just shrugged it off and said it was nothing. Aika must've understood something in that moment because she didn't press any further. She continued talking like usual, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere.

When the lunch bell rang, Kiyomi quietly tugged at my sleeve. "Can I talk to you?" she asked. "Alone."

I nodded and followed her without a second thought.

We walked until we reached the back of the school building—quiet, away from the usual noise. There, she turned to me with a solemn expression.

"I'm sorry," she said, bowing slightly. "Things at my house aren't… good. That's why I didn't want you coming near it. I didn't want anyone to know."

I stood in silence for a moment, letting her words sink in. "I understand," I said softly. "But… why are you telling me this now?"

She looked away, hesitating. "Because… you're the first real friend I've made in a long time. I didn't want you to think badly of me. I was scared. I wanted to say it earlier, but I didn't know how you'd react."

Then she looked me straight in the eyes. "Can you forgive me?"

I smiled. "Of course."

Her expression lit up instantly. "Then… as thanks, I'll bring you lunch tomorrow!"

I laughed. "No need. You already brought me drinks before. Now it's my turn. Let me bring you something."

She stammered for a second, but I gently interrupted. "Don't say anything. Just accept it—as a gift from a friend."

She smiled even brighter than before. "Okay."

I brought lunch for her, and we ate together. Somehow, as we sat side by side under the sky, a quiet warmth returned to me. My heart, once dulled, felt a little more alive. These feelings… they were ones I thought I'd forgotten.

And I didn't want them to disappear again.

After the break ended, we returned to class. Aika saw us walking back together, smiling. There was happiness in her eyes—but also something else. Something harder to read. Dissatisfaction? Or maybe… sadness? She was becoming more and more difficult to understand.

Throughout the day, Kiyomi and I continued getting closer, helping each other with studies and talking more freely. School ended before I realized it.

As Kiyomi was about to leave, I called out to her. "Want to come with us?"

I looked at Aika. "Is that okay?"

She gave me a small smile. "I was thinking the same thing. You just beat me to it."

Kayomi hesitated, but I reassured her. "We'll only walk with you halfway."

Aika frowned. "Wouldn't it be better if we walked her home?"

I gave her a knowing look, and she seemed to understand. "Alright," she said finally. "That works too."

Kiyomi looked relieved.

And so, the three of us walked together, chatting and laughing. For the first time in a while, I spoke more than I listened. I laughed. I smiled. It felt like new emotions—but deep down, I knew they weren't new. Just lost. Now, they were finding their way back.

When we dropped Kiyomi off halfway, Aika and I continued on. I found myself talking about Kayomi more than usual, while Aika walked beside me in silence.

It felt like our roles had reversed.

We eventually reached Aika's house. She stopped at her door, ready to head inside. But just before she entered, she turned her face slightly toward me and whispered, "I'm happy for you. I'll always wish for your and Kjyomi's happiness."

Then she slipped inside.

But not before I saw it—the tears on her cheeks.

She had kept her face lowered most of the walk, and I… I hadn't even noticed. Was I really that dense? Or just incapable of understanding emotions properly?

For a moment, I considered knocking. Saying something. But it felt… wrong. Improper.

So I turned around and left.

When I got home, my mother greeted me warmly, as always. But I didn't say much. I just headed straight to my room.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You can talk to me if something's bothering you."

"I'm fine," I replied. "Just tired."

I changed out of my uniform and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts drifted to Aika—her whisper, her tears. Should I call her? Or wait until tomorrow?

I debated it for a while before finally picking up my phone. I called.

No answer.

I tried again. And again.

On the fourth try, she picked up.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I was busy and didn't see your calls."

"No need to apologize," I said. "It's my fault for calling this late."

There was a pause, then she asked, "Did you need something?"

"No," I said. "Just… I was worried about you."

She was silent for a moment. "Thank you. That makes me happy."

"Did I… say something that upset you?" I asked gently.

"No, not at all. Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. "Just a feeling."

it felt as if there was a hint of sadness in her voice but she tried her best not to reveal it but I somehow figured it.

I stopped myself from pressing further as I thought it would not be appropriate.

After she said that she had some work so she needed to go and before I could say anything she hung up

Before hanging up, she said, "You and Kiyomi… look good together."

I didn't really understand what she meant, but I thanked her.

After the call, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling once again. My mind replayed the conversation over and over. I couldn't focus on anything else.