The school courtyard was quieter than usual.

Ryuya slipped through the front gates, his bag hanging loosely from one shoulder.

The weight of the morning still pressed at him, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what part of it had sucked more.

Maybe all of it.

He moved through the main building, making his way through the staircase and hallways, the familiar haze creeping in at the edges of his mind.

The classroom door slid open.

The room’s air seemed to sway at his entry, nonetheless he moved to his seat near the window, catching glances in the periphery.

Afternoon class passed softly, nothing stood out or lingered enough to grab his attention.

And now, the bell rang to announce the afternoon break.

Ryuya's eyes scouted the room, Emi had already left, an appreciated mercy he thought, yet—he glanced at the notebook resting on his desk. His gaze quickly came back to the window, the familiar fog greeting him, softening his thoughts in a mesh that didn't ask for anything.

A pair of footsteps registered—

quiet but deliberate.

Ryuya didn’t turn though.

The steps stopped near him.

“Hello ?”

A voice said, light and unfamiliar.

Ryuya glanced at his right, where a girl stood beside him, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. She waved her hand subtly.

Ryuya simply stared.

"You’re Ryuya, right?” She asked, her tone carrying a steady form of enthusiasm, though she remained at a stepping distance from his desk.

“Yeah,” he flatly answered.

She seemed familiar in a distant way, someone he’d seen at the edges of spaces he didn’t step into. A shorter than average girl with a soft gaze, her hair dressed in two messy pigtails, the kind that didn't take itself too seriously.

“Thought so.. I’m not bothering you, am I ?” The girl asked, keeping her smile along with her casual disposition.

“No, it’s fine,” She held his gaze..

“Won’t be here too long, just wanted to meet you.”

Her smile was warm, the way it lingered waiting for his answer—It seemed like he could have stayed completely silent and it wouldn’t have mattered.

“I’m Sanae Mizuki. I'm from the art club.”

“Ryuya Nagase.” He exchanged, his voice barely raising above the hum of the classroom.

Sanae grabbed a chair from an empty desk, sitting accross him.

“Thought I’d tell you about this year’s showcase, maybe you already know about it ?”

He shook his head.

"It's an art club thing but technically anyone can enter,”

she paused.

“So… I thought maybe…"

She resumed.

"…You’d want to submit something ?”

Ryuya blinked.

The air got still. His eyes flickered, catching curious glances across the room.

Eventually, his lips parted.

“What do you mean ?” He asked, though the wave in his voice wasn't lost on him.

She looked into his eyes for a moment.

“I saw your drawings and I think they’re very cool.” her expression brightened, you could tell she enjoyed saying that.

Ryuya took a second. She continued.

“I don’t know what it is, but they... stay with you.. I kept thinking about them.."

Then—

The confirmation came at once.

So she’s showing it around..?

Emi had his sketchbook.

The uncertainty crashed onto him, while Sanae’s presence was manageable, restless thoughts crept in, mental knots circling around Emi's role in this charade.

“Did I say something weird ?’ Her voice pulled him back.

Ryuya flinched, realizing how long he'd been silent.

“I just hope I’m not being pushy.” Her tone briefly lowered, something resembling concern.

“It’s fine.."

He exhaled discretly.

"I’m not really an artist though..” He added.

“What do you mean ?” Sanae asked.

Ryuya took a pause, his gaze sweeping the windows.

“...Art’s not really my thing” He answered truthfully as his eyes came back to her. She paused for a second, her expression perplexed, as though she was piecing together a puzzle.

“Really ?” She finally said, her tone conveying something uncertain.

Ryuya’s brow raised.

She paused before adding “That’s surprising..”

"Is it ?" Ryuya thought to himself.

“I mean, your work, I don’t know—” she said, her voice soft but earnest.

“I would’ve guessed you were completely immersed in the craft.”

Her eyes lingered on his face, before drifting back to the imaginary lines her hand traced on the desk.

Ryuya wasn't sure how to answer that, he watched as Sanae seemed deep in thought, her gaze distant.

The silence filled itself with uncertain thoughts once again.

“She showed you the sketchbook then ?” He dared to ask, yet the question came out softer than he expected—still, it brought her back.

Sanae’s expression shifted, her brow raised.

“Oh ? Yeah she brought it to the club yesterday,” She answered.

He nodded.

Confirmation upon confirmation, yet still no clarity to be found.

“I thought about bringing it, but I figured Emi would." Sanae’s gaze swept the room for a second, "I guess she didn’t ?” Her tone stubbornly soft.

Ryuya’s gaze dropped for second.

The bell rang once more, startling him.

Sanae glanced at the door before she stood, setting the chair back delicately.

She brushed her hands lightly against her skirt.

“Alright, well... I’ll let you be now, it was nice to meet you”

She smiled at him before she turned and walked away.

The classroom’s hum swelled again, voices and movements rising, weaving, fading and Ryuya stayed where he was, his gaze absent.

She seems nice…

A second..

Another thought..

Guess it’s out there now…

This truth didn’t pull at him, it didn’t hit a nerve, nothing…

He didn't know if he should feel bothered, upset or anything..

“Does it even matter at this point ?”

The question lingered, quiet but insistent. Ryuya’s gaze landed on Emi’s empty desk, musing absently on what Emi’s motives could be but it didn’t last.

His gaze pulled back to the window once more, his mind failing to hold on the thoughts.

The fog had thickened yet the outside seemed somber, darker. His eyes swept the room, catching glances, whispers came through, too low to discern yet loud in meaning.

His fingers pressed against the desk.

Without thinking, he pushed his chair back, the scrape seemed louder than it should have been. A few glances flicked his way again as he moved toward the door.

The walk felt heavier than it needed to be but the rooftop greeted him once again without expectations.

Ryuya moved to his spot, lowering himself to the wet ground.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting his presence blur, blending with the faint patter of rain and the distant hum of the fog-shrouded city.

A burst of laughter reached him from somewhere far below…

He opened his eyes.

Thoughts about the girl he’d just met emerged.

The air felt soft around her, it reminded him of Rika in a way he couldn’t quite name.

The recollection was cut short though—

images of Emi with his sketchbook intruding his mind, cleaving through the peace he’d found for himself.

Ryuya exhaled slowly.

No way Sanae was the only one, it'd be Emi's style to show it to everyone.

“Why does she even care..”

This hollow uncertainty slowly filled itself, frustration came in yet it was dull, it carried no bite. Instead letting place to a quiet and exhausted resignation.

…

The fog curled closer as Ryuya’s gaze shifted toward the horizon. Where the edges of the buildings disappeared, dark clouds revealed themselves just enough to discern.

He stared at them.

His fingers twitched once or twice,

the restlessness stirring, urging him to move.

Let’s just go home…

The school courtyard was quieter than usual.

Ryuya slipped through the front gates, his bag hanging loosely from one shoulder.

The weight of the morning still pressed at him, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what part of it had sucked more.

Maybe all of it.

He moved through the main building, making his way through the staircase and hallways, the familiar haze creeping in at the edges of his mind.

The classroom door slid open.

The room’s air seemed to sway at his entry, nonetheless he moved to his seat near the window, catching glances in the periphery.

Afternoon class passed softly, nothing stood out or lingered enough to grab his attention.

And now, the bell rang to announce the afternoon break.

Ryuya's eyes scouted the room, Emi had already left, an appreciated mercy he thought, yet—he glanced at the notebook resting on his desk. His gaze quickly came back to the window, the familiar fog greeting him, softening his thoughts in a mesh that didn't ask for anything.

A pair of footsteps registered—

quiet but deliberate.

Ryuya didn’t turn though.

The steps stopped near him.

“Hello ?”

A voice said, light and unfamiliar.

Ryuya glanced at his right, where a girl stood beside him, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. She waved her hand subtly.

Ryuya simply stared.

"You’re Ryuya, right?” She asked, her tone carrying a steady form of enthusiasm, though she remained at a stepping distance from his desk.

“Yeah,” he flatly answered.

She seemed familiar in a distant way, someone he’d seen at the edges of spaces he didn’t step into. A shorter than average girl with a soft gaze, her hair dressed in two messy pigtails, the kind that didn't take itself too seriously.

“Thought so.. I’m not bothering you, am I ?” The girl asked, keeping her smile along with her casual disposition.

“No, it’s fine,” She held his gaze..

“Won’t be here too long, just wanted to meet you.”

Her smile was warm, the way it lingered waiting for his answer—It seemed like he could have stayed completely silent and it wouldn’t have mattered.

“I’m Sanae Mizuki. I'm from the art club.”

“Ryuya Nagase.” He exchanged, his voice barely raising above the hum of the classroom.

Sanae grabbed a chair from an empty desk, sitting accross him.

“Thought I’d tell you about this year’s showcase, maybe you already know about it ?”

He shook his head.

"It's an art club thing but technically anyone can enter,”

she paused.

“So… I thought maybe…"

She resumed.

"…You’d want to submit something ?”

Ryuya blinked.

The air got still. His eyes flickered, catching curious glances across the room.

Eventually, his lips parted.

“What do you mean ?” He asked, though the wave in his voice wasn't lost on him.

She looked into his eyes for a moment.

“I saw your drawings and I think they’re very cool.” her expression brightened, you could tell she enjoyed saying that.

Ryuya took a second. She continued.

“I don’t know what it is, but they... stay with you.. I kept thinking about them.."

Then—

The confirmation came at once.

So she’s showing it around..?

Emi had his sketchbook.

The uncertainty crashed onto him, while Sanae’s presence was manageable, restless thoughts crept in, mental knots circling around Emi's role in this charade.

“Did I say something weird ?’ Her voice pulled him back.

Ryuya flinched, realizing how long he'd been silent.

“I just hope I’m not being pushy.” Her tone briefly lowered, something resembling concern.

“It’s fine.."

He exhaled discretly.

"I’m not really an artist though..” He added.

“What do you mean ?” Sanae asked.

Ryuya took a pause, his gaze sweeping the windows.

“...Art’s not really my thing” He answered truthfully as his eyes came back to her. She paused for a second, her expression perplexed, as though she was piecing together a puzzle.

“Really ?” She finally said, her tone conveying something uncertain.

Ryuya’s brow raised.

She paused before adding “That’s surprising..”

"Is it ?" Ryuya thought to himself.

“I mean, your work, I don’t know—” she said, her voice soft but earnest.

“I would’ve guessed you were completely immersed in the craft.”

Her eyes lingered on his face, before drifting back to the imaginary lines her hand traced on the desk.

Ryuya wasn't sure how to answer that, he watched as Sanae seemed deep in thought, her gaze distant.

The silence filled itself with uncertain thoughts once again.

“She showed you the sketchbook then ?” He dared to ask, yet the question came out softer than he expected—still, it brought her back.

Sanae’s expression shifted, her brow raised.

“Oh ? Yeah she brought it to the club yesterday,” She answered.

He nodded.

Confirmation upon confirmation, yet still no clarity to be found.

“I thought about bringing it, but I figured Emi would." Sanae’s gaze swept the room for a second, "I guess she didn’t ?” Her tone stubbornly soft.

Ryuya’s gaze dropped for second.

The bell rang once more, startling him.

Sanae glanced at the door before she stood, setting the chair back delicately.

She brushed her hands lightly against her skirt.

“Alright, well... I’ll let you be now, it was nice to meet you”

She smiled at him before she turned and walked away.

The classroom’s hum swelled again, voices and movements rising, weaving, fading and Ryuya stayed where he was, his gaze absent.

She seems nice…

A second..

Another thought..

Guess it’s out there now…

This truth didn’t pull at him, it didn’t hit a nerve, nothing…

He didn't know if he should feel bothered, upset or anything..

“Does it even matter at this point ?”

The question lingered, quiet but insistent. Ryuya’s gaze landed on Emi’s empty desk, musing absently on what Emi’s motives could be but it didn’t last.

His gaze pulled back to the window once more, his mind failing to hold on the thoughts.

The fog had thickened yet the outside seemed somber, darker. His eyes swept the room, catching glances, whispers came through, too low to discern yet loud in meaning.

His fingers pressed against the desk.

Without thinking, he pushed his chair back, the scrape seemed louder than it should have been. A few glances flicked his way again as he moved toward the door.

The walk felt heavier than it needed to be but the rooftop greeted him once again without expectations.

Ryuya moved to his spot, lowering himself to the wet ground.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting his presence blur, blending with the faint patter of rain and the distant hum of the fog-shrouded city.

A burst of laughter reached him from somewhere far below…

He opened his eyes.

Thoughts about the girl he’d just met emerged.

The air felt soft around her, it reminded him of Rika in a way he couldn’t quite name.

The recollection was cut short though—

images of Emi with his sketchbook intruding his mind, cleaving through the peace he’d found for himself.

Ryuya exhaled slowly.

No way Sanae was the only one, it'd be Emi's style to show it to everyone.

“Why does she even care..”

This hollow uncertainty slowly filled itself, frustration came in yet it was dull, it carried no bite. Instead letting place to a quiet and exhausted resignation.

…

The fog curled closer as Ryuya’s gaze shifted toward the horizon. Where the edges of the buildings disappeared, dark clouds revealed themselves just enough to discern.

He stared at them.

His fingers twitched once or twice,

the restlessness stirring, urging him to move.

Let’s just go home…