Chapter 82: Fractured Reflections
The afternoon sun filtered through the thin classroom curtains, bathing the room in a dull, mellow glow. The laughter that usually echoed through the corridors of Hoshikawa High was replaced by a strange quiet. The friend group had gathered in the empty classroom where they'd once shared carefree moments, but this time, the air was heavy—silent yet charged.
Rika sat by the window, her gaze distant. Her reflection faintly mirrored in the glass looked as fragile as she felt. Naoto was speaking to Souta near the chalkboard, their voices too low to be heard clearly. Aiko leaned against the teacher's desk, arms crossed, while Haruto sat backward on a chair, chin resting on the wooden backrest.
Himari had left early.
Rika could still feel the faint warmth of her presence lingering in the classroom, like an aftertaste of a memory that hadn't fully formed.
Souta's voice broke the silence. "We need to talk about your mother, Naoto. You said the results came back today."
Naoto turned slightly. "They did. She's improving. Slowly. The treatments are working."
A wave of relief washed over everyone, but Naoto's face didn't match the news. His eyes were clouded with something deeper—regret? Uncertainty?
Aiko tilted her head. "Then why do you look like that? Isn't that good news?"
Naoto nodded. "It is. But it's also a reminder. Every moment she's getting better, I feel this guilt weighing on me. Like I've used her illness as an excuse to run from my own choices."
Rika tensed. Her fingers curled on the windowsill.
Haruto shifted. "You're talking about Himari."
Naoto didn't answer. He didn't need to. Everyone already knew. The phone calls. The distant stares. The weight he carried in his silence.
Souta finally stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "You can't keep living in the past, Naoto. You have people here who care about you. Who are hurt because you can't be honest—not with them, and not with yourself."
Naoto finally met his eyes. "I never wanted to hurt anyone."
Rika stood up, her voice soft but echoing in the room. "Then why did you?"
The question wasn't accusatory. It was hollow. Honest. The kind of question that didn't need an answer, because it carried its own.
Naoto opened his mouth but closed it again. Words failed him.
The silence returned, heavier now.
---
Later that evening, Naoto sat alone in the small garden behind the Hayashi household. His mother's laughter, faint from inside, was a comfort and a wound. The moonlight filtered through the branches above, dancing on the pebbled path.
He took out his phone.
A message from Himari:
"Did you tell her?"
He stared at it for minutes before typing:
"No. I didn't know how to."
Another message came seconds later:
"You have to. Or she'll keep hoping. And that's crueler than any truth."
He wanted to throw the phone away. He wanted to scream. But he did neither. He just sat there, letting the breeze carry away the last pieces of his composure.
---
Meanwhile, Rika walked with Souta under the starry sky. Her eyes were tired. Her steps slow.
"Are you okay?" Souta asked, his hands deep in his pockets.
"I'm not sure," she replied. "It hurts, Souta. It hurts so much."
He stopped walking and turned to her. "Then scream. Cry. Hit something. I'll be here. I won't leave."
She looked at him, the tears she'd held back all day finally welling up.
"I loved him, Souta. Maybe I still do. But I think… I think I was always chasing a shadow."
He nodded. "Then let the shadow go. And hold on to what's real."
She leaned into him, her voice cracking. "Will you really stay? Even if I never smile the same way again?"
"I'll stay until you do. And even after that."
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves around them, carrying away the unspoken words and leaving only what mattered.
---
Inside Naoto's house, his mother called out to him. He stood up, wiped his eyes, and stepped inside.
Tomorrow, he would tell Rika the truth.
Even if it shattered everything.
Because sometimes, the only way to heal was to finally break.
---