Chapter 11 — Things We Don't Say
The morning began with sunlight that almost felt warm.
It wasn't brighter than usual, but it carried a softness Yuto hadn't noticed in years. The city glimmered faintly after last night's rain pavements shining, the scent of damp leaves in the air.
Yuto walked the familiar route to school with his sketchbook tucked under his arm. The air was cool, and the sound of footsteps and bicycles filled the street. It was… ordinary. But he was beginning to appreciate ordinary again.
Halfway through the school gate, a familiar voice cut through the crowd.
"Yo, Yuto!"
Hisoka waved from across the yard, his hair messy as always, bread in his mouth, half his tie undone.
Beside him stood Aizen composed, hands in pockets, eyes sharp behind thin glasses and Cid, who was balancing a soccer ball on his foot like it was an extension of himself.
"Morning," Yuto said, smiling faintly.
Cid grinned. "Morning? You mean afternoon at this rate. You've been walking like an old man lately."
"Maybe I'm just thinking too much," Yuto replied.
Hisoka slung an arm around his shoulder. "Thinking? You? Nah, that's a lie. You've been staring out the window a lot. Spill it, man is there someone?"
Yuto's expression twitched. "Someone?"
Cid's grin widened. "He's blushing."
"I'm not..."
Aizen finally spoke, calm and smooth as always. "They're talking about Takamine Mika, the transfer student. You've been sitting next to her for weeks, haven't you?"
Yuto sighed, looking away. "You guys notice too much."
Hisoka laughed. "Come on, we're your friends, not blind."
The teasing continued all the way to class, their laughter echoing down the corridor. For once, Yuto didn't mind. He even laughed genuinely laughed and that surprised him more than anything.
When they entered the classroom, Mika was already there, her eyes on the window as usual.
Yuto slipped into his seat beside her, the teasing still buzzing faintly in his mind.
She turned slightly. "You're in a good mood today."
He blinked. "Was I that obvious?"
"Your friends were loud enough to tell the whole school," she said quietly.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah… they can be a bit much sometimes."
A faint curve touched her lips. "It's not bad."
That tiny smile subtle and brief was enough to make the air around them feel lighter.
At lunch, Hisoka, Cid, and Aizen joined them on the rooftop. It wasn't crowded just a quiet spot with a few benches and the smell of wind. Mika didn't eat much, as usual, but she didn't avoid them either.
Hisoka plopped down beside Yuto, unwrapping a convenience-store sandwich.
"So, Takamine-san," he said with a grin, "you transferred from another city, right?"
"Yes," Mika said simply.
"Cool, cool," Cid added, biting into his rice ball. "Was your old school as boring as this one?"
She blinked at him, unsure if he was joking. "Maybe less noisy."
Everyone laughed softly, even Yuto.
Aizen, sitting a bit apart, adjusted his glasses. "I suppose you must be adjusting. A new environment can be… difficult."
Mika glanced at him, then nodded slightly. "It's… quieter here."
Yuto noticed the way her fingers tightened on her lunch box. That slight movement,that pause said more than any words could.
She was trying. Trying to belong. Trying to breathe again.
Later that day, after club activities ended, Yuto stayed behind to clean the classroom.
He didn't notice Mika had returned until he heard her voice.
"You forgot your sketchbook," she said, holding it out.
"Oh .... thanks." He reached for it, but she didn't hand it over right away.
Her eyes moved across the page. "You drew the bridge again."
"Yeah," Yuto said softly. "It's… where things changed."
"For me too," she whispered.
He looked at her, but she avoided his gaze, her tone calm but fragile. "That day… I didn't think anyone would stop me."
Yuto's hand trembled slightly, though he tried to hide it. "You looked like you didn't want to be stopped."
"I didn't," she said honestly. Then, after a pause, "But maybe… I was hoping someone would."
The air between them went still not heavy, not awkward just full of quiet truth.
"Why me?" he asked quietly.
Mika hesitated. "You didn't look at me with pity."
Yuto blinked. "Pity?"
She nodded. "Everyone else either looks away or stares too long. But you… you looked like you understood what it's like to be tired."
He didn't know how to respond. So he said the only thing that came to mind. "Maybe I do."
She finally handed him the sketchbook. "Keep drawing," she said, almost as if reminding him. "It suits you."
Then she turned and walked toward the door.
That evening, Yuto met Hisoka, Aizen, and Cid again on their way out of the gate. The sunset stretched over the sky like a thin sheet of silver.
Hisoka nudged him. "You talked to her again, didn't you?"
Yuto didn't answer, but his faint smile gave him away.
Cid chuckled. "Our boy's changing."
Aizen folded his arms. "Not changing. Just… remembering how to feel."
Yuto looked at his friends, then at the street beyond the flickering signs, the murmur of traffic, the laughter echoing from nearby shops.
Everything was still in shades of gray, but the world felt less hollow now.
He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
Because sometimes, the things we don't say mean the most.
That night, lying on his bed, Yuto flipped through his sketchbook again.
At the last page, he found a small doodle he didn't remember drawing a faint outline of two figures under an umbrella.
He smiled quietly to himself.
"Maybe," he whispered, "the world's not as colorless as I thought."
And outside his window, the city breathed gray, quiet, alive.