The morning air was cold, but not biting. Just enough to make his breath visible as he walked to school.
Ayinakoji didn't hurry. He never did. There was no point in rushing. No one waited for him anyway.
The streets were familiar. The broken sign on the corner leaned further than yesterday. The stray cat that had ignored him yesterday was nowhere to be seen.
He walked alone. As always.
School started like any other day.
The chatter. The laughter. The noise.
It all felt distant. As though he were watching it through a pane of frosted glass.
A group of boys kicked a ball through the hall. It bounced too close to him, rolling at his feet.
He bent down and picked it up.
"Here," he said softly, holding it out.
The boys froze. One looked at him. Then another. They exchanged glances and laughed.
"…We've got it," one said, taking the ball without a word of thanks.
Ayinakoji stood for a moment, unsure. Then he lowered his hand and turned away, walking back to his seat as if he'd been ignored—again.
During class, he tried to answer a question.
"Tempest?" the teacher asked, glancing briefly in his direction.
"Yes!" he said, eager.
A hand shot up in front of him. A classmate smirked. "I know it! I'll answer!"
The teacher nodded to the boy instead. Ayinakoji felt the words stick in his throat.
"…Of course," he muttered, almost to himself.
No one noticed. No one cared.
At lunch, he unpacked his small, plain lunch box. A sandwich. A piece of fruit. Nothing special.
A few students nearby were passing snacks and talking loudly. One of them opened a bag of chips and spilled some onto the floor.
Ayinakoji bent down immediately, grabbing napkins and tissues from his bag. "I'll clean it up," he said.
The group stared at him for a second. Then one boy waved lazily. "Nah, it's fine. Don't worry about it."
He stood there, tissues in hand, watching them.
The chips remained on the floor for a moment longer before someone else stepped on them and laughed.
Ayinakoji returned to his seat, tissues still unused. His hands hung by his side, empty.
"…Maybe I shouldn't help," he whispered to himself.
After lunch, he wandered outside for a moment. The courtyard was filled with laughing students, kicking pebbles and tossing leaves at each other.
He sat alone under a tree. A leaf drifted down, landing on his shoulder.
"…Hello," he said softly. The leaf didn't move again.
He touched it, rolled it between his fingers, and let it fall.
No one had noticed him. No one had seen him. No one cared.
As the day went on, the small cracks continued to widen.
A classmate took credit for a paper he had written.Another lied about him to the teacher.Even the janitor ignored him when he accidentally dropped his pen.
At first, he had tried to speak up. To explain. To show that he hadn't done anything wrong.
But no one listened.
So he stopped trying.
By the afternoon, the world began to feel… off.
A stray dog growled at him as he walked past. Not at anyone else—just him.
A cockroach scuttled across the hallway. He instinctively stepped aside… but it froze, its tiny antennae twitching, and it ran in the opposite direction, away from him.
Ayinakoji froze.
"…Even they don't want me," he muttered.
His voice was quiet, more a thought than a word.
Something in the air felt different. Not dangerous… but… wrong.
He tried to shake the feeling.
He focused on small, ordinary things: the sound of chalk on the blackboard, the ticking of the clock, the way sunlight reflected off the windows.
But every little crack in the world felt… sharper today.
A bird took off from the roof above him. It didn't caw. It didn't chirp. It simply left.
Even the wind seemed to avoid him.
By the time school ended, Ayinakoji felt… exhausted. Not physically. Not from running.
Exhausted in a way deeper than bones or muscles.
It was his mind. His heart. His sense of being.
On the walk home, the streets were quieter than usual.
He passed the corner shop. The owner waved at everyone else… but not him.
He tried to force a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"…It's okay," he whispered, the words meant for no one.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the pavement.
He stopped for a moment, staring at his own shadow.
It felt… thinner than it should.
Not normal.
When he got home, he didn't speak to anyone. Didn't sit down. Didn't eat.
He simply stared out the window at the empty street.
The same cat from yesterday appeared. Sitting on the wall, watching him.
Ayinakoji smiled faintly. "…Good evening."
The cat turned away immediately and disappeared down the alley.
He let out a long, quiet breath.
"…I see," he whispered.
And as night fell, he realized something that made his chest tighten:
He was alone.
Completely.
And for the first time… he wondered if the world itself was against him.