The days that followed felt quieter yet somehow, lighter.
Not because anything had changed around Yuto, but because someone had.
Takamine Mika.
She still didn't talk much. Still carried that faraway look in her eyes. But every now and then, when she did speak, her words stayed in his mind long after she stopped.
Yuto sat by his desk that morning, sketching absentmindedly in the corner of his notebook. His lines weren't the same as before he no longer drew bold, colorful characters like he once did. Now his sketches were simple shapes, people blurred in half-tones, the kind you could barely tell were smiling or sad.
He glanced to his side.
Mika was already there, silent as always, a small paperback in her hands. Her eyes traced the pages slowly, lips barely moving as if she were whispering the words to herself.
The sunlight slipped in through the window, brushing her cheek.
And there it was again.
Color.
Faint, but there.
A warm glow on her hair. A glimmer of blue in her eyes when she blinked. Just for a second and then gone again, like a dream refusing to stay.
He froze, staring.
"Manabe?" she said softly, without looking up.
He nearly dropped his pencil. "Ah...sorry! I, uh… thought you dropped something."
Her brow lifted slightly, as if she saw through him, but she didn't press. "You're bad at lying."
Yuto looked away, embarrassed. "Guess so."
A small silence followed. Then, surprisingly, Mika spoke again.
"Do you always draw during class?"
He glanced at his sketchbook. "Not really. Just helps me think."
"What do you draw?"
"Things that don't exist anymore," he said without thinking. "Like color."
She blinked, uncertain what he meant but there was something in her gaze, a flicker of curiosity.
Before she could reply, the classroom door slid open.
"Morning, class!"
It was Miss Ayane, their new homeroom teacher a woman in her mid-twenties, cheerful but gentle, with a voice that could calm even the rowdiest student. She smiled brightly.
"Alright, before we begin literature, we'll have a seat rearrangement today. It'll help everyone get to know each other better."
Yuto's heart sank. No way…
As the class shuffled, Mika looked uncertain. She wasn't good with sudden changes. When the teacher started pairing names, Mika's expression turned quietly tight.
"Takamine Mika," Miss Ayane called.
"Yes…"
"You'll stay where you are. Manabe Yuto, you'll remain too. You'll both be table partners for this month."
A small murmur went through the room some students whispering "Lucky!" or "Those two barely talk."
Yuto blinked. Mika's lips parted slightly in surprise.
She looked at him for the first time that day.
"…Guess we're partners," he said, trying to sound casual.
She gave a small nod. "…Guess so."
At lunch, they ended up eating together out of convenience. Yuto tried to keep it normal. He opened his bento, glancing sideways.
"Do you always bring bread?" he asked.
Mika shrugged lightly. "It's easier. I don't like cooking much."
"Oh. My mom used to make mine too," he said softly. "Before she got too busy."
She glanced at him. "Used to?"
He nodded. "Things… changed a lot at home."
That silence again. Not awkward just heavy, like two people standing in the same rain but not speaking about it.
Finally, she whispered, "I see."
He looked at her, curious. "What about you? You live with your parents?"
She hesitated just a heartbeat but he saw it.
"Just my dad," she said finally. "He's… complicated."
There it was again something in her tone that didn't match her calm face. Yuto didn't press. Instead, he smiled faintly and offered one of his side dishes. "Here. Try this."
She blinked. "You don't have to..."
"Come on. It's better than bread every day."
For a second, she looked unsure. Then, quietly, she accepted it. "Thank you."
When she bit into it, her expression softened slightly like a wall cracking just enough for light to seep in.
Yuto smiled to himself.
And this time, the world flickered again. The faint green of the trees outside. The red of the sauce on her lips. It came alive for a heartbeat, and he could almost breathe in color again.
After school, as they packed up, Hayato waved from the door. "Hey, Manabe, we're grabbing snacks at the store coming?"
"Maybe next time!" Yuto said.
Hayato grinned, giving a knowing glance between him and Mika before walking off.
As the room emptied, Mika stood, adjusting her bag. "You didn't have to stay behind," she said quietly.
"I know," he replied. "But maybe I wanted to."
She looked at him, searching for meaning.
"You're strange, Manabe."
He smiled. "You're not the first to say that."
She turned toward the window then, watching the orange sky stretch across the town. "I used to like sunsets," she said suddenly.
He looked at her. "Used to?"
"Now… I don't look at them much. They remind me of things that don't last."
Her words lingered like wind against water. Yuto wanted to say something comforting but he knew sometimes silence said it better.
So they stood there, side by side, as the sun dipped low, coloring the room in soft gold and gray.
For the first time, Mika didn't look distant.
And for the first time in years, Yuto's world didn't feel entirely black and white.
That night, as Yuto sat by his window sketching, he found himself drawing again not the gray shadows of before, but a faint outline of a girl sitting beneath a bridge, her reflection shimmering in color.
He didn't realize he was smiling.