“Unfolding What Was Lost”

I ran straight to the locker room, changed into my shoes, and bolted from the school building.

At that moment—I didn't want to be there.

I didn't want to hear anyone's voice.

I didn't want to see anyone's face.

I just wanted to be alone.

My home was a few kilometers away. Normally, I'd take the train from Tsukikawa Station. Today, I ran toward it like I was escaping from the world itself.

As I passed the streets, I saw classmates laughing together, planning karaoke nights, waving at each other like nothing in the world could go wrong.

I ran past them with my eyes on the ground.

"Why can't they just leave me alone..."

I whispered to myself.

The station was crowded. The world was still turning, alive with people and chatter—but not for me. I lowered my head and moved quietly to the ticket gate, scanning my student pass without a sound.

I walked to the platform and sank into a bench, breathing hard.

My stomach still throbbed from the blow earlier. I pressed my bag tightly against my chest.

Maybe... if I told Mom, she'd put medicine on it... maybe even hug me. Like before.

I hoped.

The train arrived. I stepped inside quickly, standing by the door and gripping the metal pole tightly. I stared down, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes.

As the train slowed at my stop, I quietly stepped out and passed through the exit. That's when I saw him—Mr. Ichijou, the elderly station attendant. He always seemed to know.

"You alright, kid?" he asked gently.

I didn't want to talk. Not today.

But... I didn't want to be rude either. I forced a small smile.

"Yeah... I'm fine."

He looked at me quietly for a moment.

"You know," he said, "nothing ever heals by burying it too deep."

I didn't meet his gaze.

"...I'm okay. But... thank you."

As I walked away, I heard his sigh behind me.

"That boy... I've seen him since he was a sprout. So full of joy. So bright-eyed. On his first day of high school, he was shining—like a blooming flower."

"But now... every petal's been pulled off. One by one and left to wither away"

"Back when he was little, he used to run up and say, 'Ojisan! I'm back!' — every single day. That smile of his... it lit up the whole station."

"I just hope... I'll see it again. One day. A real one."

I kept walking. The streets felt longer than usual. The distance between people and me—longer still.

I passed the old neighborhood park. The same one where I once laughed. Ran. Fell. Got back up again.

Today, it was filled with children.

Laughing. Sliding. Chasing butterflies.

A small boy fell from the slide and burst into tears. His mother rushed over and gathered him into her arms, soothing him softly. She tied a handkerchief around his scraped knee.

He sniffled a quiet "Thank you, Mama".

She smiled and hugged him tightly.

He smiled too, and ran back to play.

I stopped in my tracks, watching.

I remembered.

A Memory, in Full Bloom

I was five.

Doing Sakaagari on the horizontal bar.

Trying to flip like the big kids.

I slipped.

Fell.

Cried.

I still remember the sound of vegetables falling—my mother had dropped her grocery bag in pure panic.

She had the same messy white hair I do.

Her eyes—the same deep red—were full of love back then. Her long lashes fluttered as she ran.

She rushed to me and scooped me up without hesitation.

Her arms wrapped around me, patting my back again and again until my sobs turned into hiccups.

Even then, she didn't put me down.

"Mama, I'm... sorry! You dropped your... veg... veggibells—"

I bit my tongue on the word and messed it up completely.

She blinked... and burst out laughing.

"Why would I care about vegetables if my precious boy is safe?"

Then came that smile.

That one smile that glowed warmer than the sun.

That lifted the whole world and tucked it gently around me.

That smile I've longed for ever since.

I hugged her tightly.

"I'll protet—proteck—you forever!"

I bit my tongue again, I was embarassed

She laughed even harder and kissed my forehead.

We walked home together that day.

Hand in hand.

Her white hair catching the wind.

My tears forgotten.

But now...

That hair? Disheveled.

Those eyes? Cold.

That voice? Sharp. Distant. Bitter.

That smile?

Gone.

The warmth that once filled my world now flickers like a dying candle.

The arms that once protected me now only raise in anger.

Where did she go?

Where did I go?

Haruki turned the key in the door and stepped into silence.

No slippers waiting for him.

No scent of home-cooked food.

No soft voice asking, "How was school?"

Only the echo of the door clicking shut behind him.

He bent down, removed his shoes, and neatly placed them beside the untouched heels—his mother's. They hadn't moved since yesterday.

She had left for a business trip that morning.

No goodbye.

He stepped into the living room, where the shadows seemed too still, too sterile—like the whole house had been paused mid-breath. The refrigerator light flickered as he opened it. A note flapped gently on the door.

"Food's in the fridge. Don't burn the house."

No "Take care." No "I'll be back soon."

Just orders. Unfeeling, mechanical.

Like everything else these days.

The meal was cold. He forced himself to eat it anyway.

He walked into the bathroom and peeled off his shirt.

A large bruise stretched over his side, a deep blotch of purple and yellow from the kick he received today.

The water ran hot over his skin, but it couldn't wash away the ache in his chest. Not the bruise. Not the memories. Not the laughter echoing from the hallway, not the fake rumors, not the sting of Ayane's words.

He stepped out and wiped the foggy mirror. His reflection blinked back.

White hair.

Red eyes.

Just like hers.

But where hers used to shine with warmth… now they avoided him entirely.

While walking back through the hallway, his eyes caught an old family photo. Blurry. Crooked. Him in kindergarten, proudly clinging to her arm.

A memory resurfaced — the day he'd fallen while trying to do a sakagaeri on the bar in the park.

He had bit his tongue trying to shout, "I'll protect you!" but ended up slurring the words so adorably, she burst out laughing.

Even though her vegetables had fallen, she had dropped everything and hugged him.

"Why would I worry about vegetables if you're safe?"

That smile.

He missed that smile more than anything.

Now, she only smiled at her coworkers. Or clients on the phone. Never at him.

He changed into loose clothes and dropped onto his bed, grabbing his phone, hoping for a distraction.

A school notification buzzed:

[Class 1-C Project Group Allocations]

He tapped it open without much thought.

Then froze.

Group C:

Haruki Tsukishiro

Ayane Hanekawa

Yuzuki Kurobane

Reika Aoi

He stared. Blinked.

It didn't change.

"…No," he muttered.

Of all the people. The ones who framed him. Laughed at him. Broke him piece by piece.

His fingers trembled. He squeezed the phone tighter.

"Why… why does fate always throw me back to the wolves?"

He exhaled sharply and muttered to himself, "Fine. I'll do my part. Say nothing. Get it done. Then disappear."

But his chest tightened.

The shadows on the ceiling twisted in strange shapes.

Even the silence was mocking him now.

He gritted his teeth and pulled the blanket up to his chin, curling tightly like he used to as a child.

He remembered Yuzuki's rare, soft voice.

Reika's guilty glance.

Ayane's face when he told her to let go of his collar.

Maybe they didn't know.

Maybe they didn't understand the depth of what they did.

Or maybe… they did.

Either way, it didn't matter.

All that mattered now was survival.

"I'll survive this," he whispered to the ceiling, voice cracking.

"Even if I have to do it alone again."