Sunday sunlight usually feels lazy. Soft. Slow. But when I woke up that morning, the light felt too sharp, like someone had turned the world's brightness up without permission.
My body felt heavy, but my mind was already sprinting.
Saturday's date kept looping in my head — the warmth in her smile, the softness in her voice, the way she leaned just a bit too close, like she was studying the pattern of my breathing. But beneath all that sweetness… something tugged. Something faint, invisible, but real.
I scrolled through my phone, pretending I wasn't thinking about yesterday. It didn't work. Every notification sound felt like it belonged to her.
At 9:02 a.m., my phone buzzed.
Shizu:
"Are you awake?"
The timing felt too precise, like she had been waiting.
Like she somehow knew.
Me:
"Yeah."
Shizu:
"Good."
Just that.
One word.
But the way she sent it — immediate, smooth, sure — felt like she had been expecting my reply.
We chatted a little after that. She asked about my plans, asked if I slept well, asked small things in that thoughtful way that felt careful… and intentional. She wasn't nosy. She wasn't clingy. She was focused.
By noon, Leo stormed into my room like a hurricane.
"Broooo, the lover boy lives."
I threw a pillow at him. "Shut up, man."
He sat on my chair, spinning like a child on sugar. "Okay, no jokes. How was it really?"
"It was… good," I admitted.
He raised a brow. "Good? Bro, you're glowing."
I wasn't. But Leo always sees more than he says.
Sunday passed in that strange mix — peaceful but heavy. Like calm ocean waves hiding something deep underneath. And every now and then, my mind replayed her voice:
"I don't want to lose you."
It echoed in places inside me I didn't know existed.
---
Monday — The Vibe Shift
Monday mornings are usually chaos — lockers slamming, people shouting, teachers yelling at late students. But today? The hallways felt unusually quiet, like everyone had collectively lowered their volume.
The moment I stepped into class, I felt it.
Eyes.
Too many eyes.
People looked away quickly, whispering behind textbooks. A few stared openly, like I had shown up with a celebrity or committed a crime over the weekend.
Then she walked in.
Shizu.
Her hair slightly undone, her expression soft but unreadable. She scanned the room once — just once — and found me instantly. No hesitation. No searching.
Her steps slowed ever so slightly before she approached.
"Morning," she said, voice low.
"Morning."
She sat down, closer than usual.
Not right next to me… but close enough that if I stretched my leg even an inch, I'd brush hers.
As class started, I noticed everything — because that's what I do.
Period 1 — English
The teacher droned on about poetry, but Shizu kept glancing sideways. Not constantly. Not obsessively. But deliberately. Like she was checking if I was okay… or checking if I was watching her.
Once, she caught me staring. Her lips twitched into the smallest smile. Not playful. Not shy.
Knowing.
Period 2 — History
She asked to borrow my pen even though she had two on her desk. I passed it without comment. Her fingers grazed mine for a second too long.
My heart didn't explode, but my mind definitely took notes.
When she returned it, I caught her whispering, almost too quietly:
"Thanks… I like when you share things with me."
Period 3 — Science
Our teacher made us do a group activity. People shuffled around. Shizu walked straight to me before anyone else could ask.
"I'll be with him," she said calmly.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just… certain.
Leo raised a brow from across the lab like, Bro, she's locked in.
During the experiment, she leaned closer than necessary. Her shoulder brushed mine; her hair fell slightly forward. She didn't move away.
"If you're tired, tell me," she murmured once.
"Why?"
She paused, then said softly, "Because I can tell."
I pretended I didn't hear the deeper meaning behind that.
Lunch Break
I sat with Leo and a few buddies, and while we joked around, I caught Shizu watching us from across the room. Not constantly — just enough to map the dynamic.
She was learning who mattered to me.
And every time someone from another class talked to me, her gaze sharpened—just for a second—then softened again.
It wasn't jealousy.
It was something else.
Awareness.
Possession wrapped in politeness.
For the first time, I couldn't classify her emotions neatly.
And that bothered me a little.
---
After School — The Twist Unfolds
The final bell rang, and everyone packed up. Most students rushed out like always.
I stayed back, putting my books away slowly.
That's when Shizu appeared beside me.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
Her voice wasn't demanding.
Not shaky.
Just… calm. Too calm.
I followed her out of the building, through a quiet pathway behind the school that barely anyone used.
The air shifted as soon as we stepped there — colder, quieter, almost cut off from the world.
She stopped and pulled out her phone.
I expected pictures or texts.
But what I saw wasn't that.
It was audio recordings.
Dozens.
Different dates.
Different days.
Different moments.
"Lunch – his laugh."
"Evening footsteps."
"Quiet day – voice."
"Rainroom memory."
"Classroom silence."
My breath hitched slightly.
She noticed.
"I know how it looks," she said softly.
"I didn't record you secretly. I recorded… moments that mattered to me."
Her eyes were clear — painfully clear.
"I didn't know how to keep memories before you came into my life. You're the first person who ever made normal days feel alive. These… helped me remember."
She looked straight at me, no hesitation, no fear.
"You think nobody notices you. But I do. I always have."
My heartbeat… changed rhythm.
Not in a melting-romantic way.
In a what exactly is happening here way.
She stepped closer — not touching, but close enough that I felt the warmth of her presence.
"I didn't give you that gift just because it was cute. I gave it because it was you. Because I don't want to lose what we have. Even if it scares me."
Wind rustled behind us.
Her hair brushed her cheek.
Her fingers curled slightly, like resisting the urge to reach out.
"Please say something," she whispered.
I opened my mouth—
But footsteps echoed nearby.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Getting closer.
Shizu didn't flinch.
She didn't turn around.
Instead, she leaned in, her voice barely a breath:
"Don't react. Stay with me."
Her eyes locked onto mine — intense, sharp, almost protective.
The footsteps stopped right behind us.
A shadow fell over the ground.
And in that moment, everything around us froze —
the wind,
the air,
the space between us.
Something was about to happen.
Something that would change everything.