No one ever sat next to Ren.
It wasn't written anywhere. No rule, no instruction. But everyone followed it like it was.
The seat beside him stayed empty—day after day, week after week.
At first, he used to wonder why.
Now, he didn't ask anymore.
The classroom was loud, alive with chatter and laughter that never included him. Ren sat by the window, his eyes fixed outside, watching the slow movement of people beyond the school gate.
Anything was better than turning around.
A paper ball hit his shoulder.
He didn't react.
Another one landed on his desk.
"Oi," someone from the back called, barely lowering his voice, "at least pretend you're human."
A few laughs followed.
Ren blinked once, then looked back out the window.
Silence was easier.
"Enough!"
The teacher's voice cut through the noise as she entered. Instantly, the class settled.
Attendance began.
Names. Voices. Presence.
"Ren?"
A short pause.
"Present."
Flat. Controlled. Unnoticed.
Just like always.
By the time the final bell rang, the classroom exploded into movement.
Chairs scraped. Bags zipped. Plans were made.
No one waited for him.
No one ever did.
Ren walked out alone, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the road outside the school.
Students gathered in groups, laughing, talking, alive in ways he didn't understand.
He kept walking.
Head down.
Hands in pockets.
Invisible.
The road outside was busy as usual—bikes rushing past, cars honking, voices blending into a constant noise.
And then—
A sudden screech.
Sharp. Violent.
Ren's head snapped up.
A crowd had already begun to form a few meters ahead.
Something was wrong.
He hesitated.
For a moment, he thought about walking away.
It wasn't his problem.
Nothing ever was.
But something—something he couldn't explain—made his feet move forward.
People whispered.
"Oh my God…"
"Someone call an ambulance!"
"Wasn't she from our school?"
The words hit him instantly.
Ren pushed through the crowd.
And then he saw her.
She lay on the road, motionless.
Her bag was a few feet away, books scattered across the ground.
A thin line of blood traced along her forehead.
For a second—
Everything went silent.
Isha.
He had seen her before. Of course he had.
Everyone had.
She was the kind of person people naturally gathered around. Smiling. Talking. existing in a world completely different from his.
And now—
She looked… fragile.
Broken.
"Don't just stand there!" someone shouted. "Help!"
Ren moved without thinking.
He knelt beside her, his hands trembling slightly.
"Isha…?" he said, unsure why he was saying her name.
She didn't respond.
A few others stepped closer, but none of them actually did anything.
They just watched.
Just like they always did.
"Call an ambulance," Ren said, his voice low but firm.
"I—I think someone already did," a boy replied nervously.
Ren glanced at them.
Then back at her.
For the first time in a long while—
He felt something break through his silence.
Fear.
The distant sound of a siren grew louder.
People stepped back as the ambulance arrived.
Paramedics rushed forward, lifting her carefully onto a stretcher.
"Move aside, please!"
Ren stood frozen as they carried her away.
Just before the doors closed—
Her hand shifted slightly.
A small movement.
Barely noticeable.
But he saw it.
And for some reason—
He didn't leave.
The ambulance drove off.
The crowd slowly disappeared.
Within minutes, the road returned to normal.
Like nothing had happened.
But Ren was still standing there.
Watching the empty road.
He didn't know why it affected him.
People got hurt all the time.
Accidents happened.
Life moved on.
So why did this feel different?
That night, he couldn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes—
He saw her.
Lying there.
Unmoving.
Alone.
And for the first time in years—
Ren realized something he had long buried.
He wasn't used to seeing others alone.
Because he knew exactly how it felt.
The next morning, the classroom felt different.
Quieter.
Uneasy.
Whispers filled the air.
"Did you hear? She's in the hospital…"
"They said she hit her head…"
"Some memory problem or something…"
Ren sat in his usual seat.
Same place.
Same silence.
But this time—
He wasn't looking out the window.
He was listening.
Because somewhere between the noise and the whispers—
A thought had begun to form.
And he didn't know why—
But he felt like…
This wasn't the end of her story.
It was the beginning of something.
Something that, somehow—
Would reach him.