The school day had been grey and slow, the kind that blurred together until it did not feel real anymore.
Paulo had not spoken much, only when the teacher called on him, only when he absolutely had to.
He did not look at Kazumi.
He did not look at Takeo.
He just existed, quiet, steady, unbothered.
But under that calm, something else had begun to burn, a sharp, quiet defiance.
It was late after class when it happened. Most of the students had already gone home. The hallways were half-lit, echoing with the sound of distant lockers slamming shut.
Paulo stood by one of the empty stairwells with a girl from another class, Aya, someone he barely knew. She had been the one to talk first, laughing about how "mysterious" he seemed lately.
He had not planned it. He did not even feel much of anything.
It was just something to do.
Something to drown out the noise inside.
Aya leaned closer, giggling softly. "You really don't talk much, do you?"
Paulo quietly, "Talking doesn't change much."
She tilted her head, "Maybe not. But you have got nice eyes."
Then she kissed him, sudden, brief, shallow.
For a moment, Paulo just stood there, frozen, eyes half open. Then he leaned in too, if only to prove to himself that he could feel something.
But he did not.
There was no rush. No spark. Just silence.
And that's when footsteps echoed down the hall.
Takeo turned the corner.
Their eyes met, Paulo's calm, distant; Takeo's startled for half a second before hardening.
Aya quickly stepped back, flustered, "Oh, Takeo, hey, we were just—"
Takeo did not answer. He just looked at Paulo. For a long, tense second, the hallway felt colder.
Paulo met his stare without a flicker of emotion.
He did not move. Did not explain. Did not hide.
Paulo quietly, "What?"
Takeo's jaw tightened. For a second, it looked like he was going to say something, a threat, a sneer, anything.
But he did not.
He just walked past them, silent.
His footsteps echoed until they faded down the hall.
Aya shifted awkwardly, "Uh… that was weird."
Paulo did not respond. He just looked at the spot where Takeo had stood, his reflection faint in the window beside him.
Paulo, "So that's what it feels like to stop caring."
He turned back to Aya and gave her a small, empty smile, "You should go. They will close the gates soon."
She nodded, still a little flushed, and hurried off down the hall.
When she was gone, Paulo leaned against the wall and let out a slow, hollow breath. The quiet of the empty building settled around him, heavy, almost peaceful.
Paulo thinking, "He saw. He will probably tell Kazumi. Maybe that is good.
Maybe she'll stop feeling guilty."
The last of the daylight bled through the windows, painting everything in dull gold.
He reached into his pocket and found his phone, a message from Kazumi still sitting unopened from the night before.
He did not read it.
He locked the screen, slid it back into his pocket, and walked out into the fading evening.
No anger, no heartbreak, just quiet.
Takeo did not go straight home.
He walked the long way instead, hands jammed in his pockets, head down, his expression unreadable.
He was not sure what bothered him more, seeing Paulo kissing another girl, or realizing that it did not bother Paulo at all.
Takeo thinking, "He didn't even flinch. Like he was proving something."
For the first time, Takeo could not tell who was winning their silent war, or if there even was one anymore.
***
The next morning.
The school hallways buzzed like nothing had changed, but the air felt wrong.
Kazumi felt it first the shift, the glances, the quiet. Something was off.
Paulo came in right on time, expression as calm and distant as ever. He did not look tired anymore. Just… still.
Too still.
Kazumi waved, "Hey, Paulo!"
Paulo did not wave back as he said, "Morning."
That same flat tone again, polite, clipped, distant.
Kazumi tried to smile, tried to pretend she did not notice, but her chest ached.
She wanted to ask him why he had not replied to her messages.
Why he was not teasing her anymore.
Why he looked like he had built a wall so high should not even see the top.
But before she could say anything else, Takeo walked into class. His gaze flicked briefly toward Paulo, nothing more.
Just one quick glance, then away.
Kazumi caught it.
That look.
Short, sharp, loaded with something she could not name.
And her stomach dropped.
Kazumi thinking, "Did something happen?"
At lunch, Kazumi finally found Takeo by the vending machines.
He was quiet, tapping his fingers against a soda can, lost in thought.
Kazumi said, "Takeo. You have been acting weird since yesterday. What happened?"
Takeo looked up, his usual arrogance gone, replaced by something heavier, "Nothing."
Kazumi scoffed and said, "Don't lie to me."
He hesitated, eyes narrowing, "You really want to know?"
Kazumi nodded.
Takeo sighed and said, "Then fine. Your precious Paulo? He was making out with that girl from Class 2-B. Aya."
The words hit like a slap, "...What?"
Takeo nodded, "Yeah. Stairwell by the science wing. Did not even care that I saw. Just stared at me, cold. Like I was nothing."
Kazumi shook her head, "You're lying."
Takeo sighed, "I wish I was." He took a swig from his soda, voice dropping low, "Guess he's not as soft as you thought."
Kazumi stood there, heart pounding, trying to breathe. The world felt suddenly too loud, the chatter, the vending hum, the laughter from down the hall.
Kazumi thinking, "Why? Why would he do that?"
Later that day, she found him.
Paulo was sitting alone in the courtyard again, leaning back on the bench, the wind rustling his hair. The sunlight caught in his eyes, calm, empty, endless.
Kazumi walked up, heart racing, "Is it true?"
Paulo did not look up, "What?"
Kazumi said, "Takeo said he saw you with Aya."
He paused, then nodded once, "Yeah."
Kazumi said, "You… kissed her?"
"She kissed me first," Paulo replied fast.
Kazumi whispered, "But you didn't stop her."
Paulo shook his head, "No."
The wind carried silence between them long, sharp, endless.
Kazumi asked, "Why, Paulo?"
Finally, he looked at her, his gaze calm, detached, but behind it was something broken and dark, "Because it doesn't matter anymore."
Kazumi scoffed and said, "Do not say that. Of course it matters."
Paulo said, "Does it? You already chose him."
Kazumi flinched, "That's not—"
"I saw you, Kazumi. In the alley," Paulo said with a deep sigh.
Her breath caught.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Paulo stood up slowly, his voice quiet but sharp, "You do not have to explain. I get it now."
Kazumi reached out to him, "Paulo—"
Paulo snapped, "Don't."
He met her eyes, no anger, no tears, just exhaustion, "You can stop feeling guilty. I am fine."
He walked past her then, the faint scent of rain still clinging to his jacket.
She turned after him, eyes stinging, but he never looked back.
Kazumi whispering, "No… you're not."
That night, Kazumi could not sleep. She stared at her phone for hours, her finger hovering over Paulo's name.
The chat was empty. No replies. No dots.
Outside, the rain began again, soft, patient, endless, like the sound of someone breaking quietly where no one could see.