The morning light spilled through the curtains like water finding its way through cracks.
Yuto blinked against it, rubbing his eyes before sitting up on his bed. For a moment, he didn't move. The silence in his room was steady, clean, and almost too still.
He looked at the sketchbook lying open on his desk the one that hadn't seen a new drawing in weeks. The pages stared back at him, pale and empty, yet somehow waiting.
He let out a quiet sigh, slid the book aside, and picked up his school bag.
When he stepped outside, the air had a faint chill to it not winter yet, but close enough to whisper of it. The morning wind in Tokyo carried the smell of wet asphalt and bakery bread.
The world was still in black and white to him. But that didn't bother him as much today.
He walked the familiar route to school passing by the vending machines, the narrow alleyway with climbing ivy, the traffic lights that changed from gray to gray.
It was an ordinary morning, except… he noticed more of it. The hum of the city didn't sound as heavy anymore.
Halfway to school, he saw her.
Mika stood at the crossing, waiting for the signal, her hair gently swept by the breeze.
He didn't know why, but something about her presence steadied him like his eyes had grown used to finding her.
When she noticed him, her expression didn't change much, but she gave a small nod.
Yuto mirrored it awkwardly.
They walked side by side after that, neither saying much.
At school, whispers followed Mika again. Not cruel ones just the kind that orbit new faces.
"She's so quiet…"
"Did you hear she transferred from another prefecture?"
"She's beautiful though, right?"
A few girls approached her during lunch break.
Yuto watched from his seat as one of them, a cheerful girl from the literature club, tried to strike up a conversation.
Mika smiled faintly polite, distant. She answered their questions softly, but her eyes kept drifting toward the window.
The girls eventually gave up, walking off with half-hearted laughter.
Yuto could see it the small struggle in Mika's posture, the way she clenched her hands under the desk. She wanted to belong. She just didn't know how.
Later that day, Yuto found himself walking beside her again. It had become a quiet habit neither of them acknowledged.
The sun hung low, washing the school walls in a pale gold that Yuto couldn't see but somehow, he could feel the warmth.
"People talk about you a lot," Yuto said without thinking.
Mika turned to him. "Do they?"
"Yeah… mostly good things."
"That's strange."
Her tone wasn't sarcastic. Just… tired. Like she didn't believe goodness applied to her.
They reached the vending machines near the train station. Mika stopped, looked through the glowing glass, and picked two canned coffees.
When she handed him one, Yuto blinked in surprise. "You didn't have to...."
"I didn't," she interrupted softly. "But you always look like you need it."
For the first time that day, Yuto laughed quietly. The sound felt real not forced.
They sat on a bench nearby, watching people cross the street. Mika sipped her drink slowly, her expression unreadable. Then, her phone buzzed.
She froze for a moment before checking it.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. Her face darkened slightly so subtle most wouldn't notice.
She typed something quickly, then locked her phone and looked away.
"You okay?" Yuto asked.
"I'm fine."
Her voice was calm, but not convincing.
He didn't push. He just nodded.
The wind picked up again, rustling the fallen leaves along the curb.
Mika stood up first. "I should go," she said.
"Yeah."
"Thanks… for walking with me."
Yuto looked at her, confused. "You don't have to thank me for that."
"I do," she said, her gaze turning to the sky the kind of look that meant more than she'd ever say aloud.
Then she left, her footsteps quiet against the pavement.
Yuto remained on the bench long after she disappeared into the crowd.
The city noise faded into a distant hum. He tilted his head up the clouds, the streetlights flickering on, the shifting shapes of strangers moving like waves.
He couldn't see colors, but in that moment, he didn't feel entirely gray inside anymore.
Something was changing.
Not fast, not bright but real.
He opened his palm, staring at the condensation ring left by the coffee can.
.... .
The morning after felt gentler somehow.
Yuto couldn't explain why it wasn't like the world had suddenly regained its colors. Everything was still shades of gray.
But the silence in his room no longer pressed against him.
He stared at the faint glow filtering through his curtains, remembering the sound of the vending machine, Mika's voice saying "You always look like you need it."
It echoed softly in his mind, steadying him as he packed his bag.
When he stepped out, the air smelled faintly of rain.
He tugged his jacket closer, the strap of his bag brushing his shoulder small, ordinary sensations that somehow felt alive.
At school, the usual buzz of chatter filled the hallways.
Aizen waved lazily from the classroom window, "Oi, Yuto! You finally learned how to smile again or what?"
Yuto half-smiled. "Did I?"
"You just did," Aizen replied, grinning. "That's, like, once a year, man. Write it down."
Cid laughed from behind his desk, throwing a rolled-up piece of paper at Aizen. "Stop bullying the poor guy."
Their usual noise light, meaningless, but comforting.
Yuto didn't join in much, but he didn't shut it out either. The sound filled the empty corners inside him.
When Mika entered the classroom, the atmosphere shifted slightly not dramatically, just enough for people to glance up.
A few of the girls who'd spoken to her yesterday waved. She hesitated, then returned a small nod. It wasn't much, but for her, it was progress.
Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Kondo, clapped her hands. "Alright, everyone! We'll be working on the upcoming art-and-literature showcase. Each pair will create something simple a short story, a poem, or even a drawing."
The class buzzed with interest.
Mrs. Kondo scanned the list. "Let's see… Hisoka, you're with Mina. Aizen and Cid, don't mess around too much. And…"
She paused, smiling faintly. "Manabe and Takamine you two will work together."
Yuto blinked. Mika looked up. Their eyes met briefly.
"Well," Mrs. Kondo continued, "it's a good chance for you all to express yourselves. The deadline's two weeks from now."
As the chatter resumed, Yuto looked over at Mika.
"So," he said quietly, "guess we're partners."
"Looks that way," she replied, not looking up from her notebook.
But there was something softer in her voice this time not cold, just cautious.
After class, they stayed behind to discuss ideas.
Mika sat by the window, tapping her pen lightly against her sketchpad.
"Maybe we could write something simple," Yuto suggested. "About… everyday life?"
She thought for a while. "What about color?"
Yuto froze slightly. "Color?"
"Yeah. Like… how people see the same thing differently."
She looked out the window. "Maybe some people see red, others see gray. But they're both still looking at the same sunset."
Her words lingered in the air.
Yuto didn't know how to respond, but something in his chest stirred a quiet ache mixed with warmth.
He looked at her, the faint light outlining her hair.
"Yeah," he said softly. "That sounds… perfect."
The bell rang, ending their conversation.
Mika gathered her things, but before leaving, she paused at his desk.
"Hey, Yuto."
"Yeah?"
She hesitated, eyes flicking toward the door. "Thanks. For… not treating me like I'm broken."
He didn't know what to say, so he just smiled faintly.
"Same to you."
When she left, Yuto stared at the empty seat beside him.
The word color echoed in his mind again and though his world still looked gray, for the first time, it didn't feel empty.
Maybe this was what change looked like not a sudden burst of light, but the faintest warmth sneaking in through the cracks.
He leaned back, watching the pale sunlight drift across the desks, and whispered to himself:
"Days that begin to breathe, huh…"