Thank you for waiting, I'm dropping info about future chapters, times and more on X.
"Yamamoto… You got into a fight?"
Her voice stopped at the doorway. Not loud. Not accusing. Just careful, like one wrong word might make me crack.
I stood there, backpack still on my shoulder, fingers curled tight around the strap. I didn't answer. Saying nothing felt safer than saying the wrong thing.
"May I come in?"
I nodded. That was all I had in me.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The room felt smaller right away. She sat on the edge of my bed, hands resting on her knees, eyes scanning me like she was putting together a puzzle she didn't want the answer to.
"You need something?" she said. "I heard some students talking. About a fight. About the guy who 'assaulted' Nakamura."
Something snapped.
"I didn't!" The words burst out before I could stop them. My chest tightened, breath uneven. "I didn't do anything. Why doesn't anyone believe me?"
The silence after was heavy. I hated it. I hated how my voice shook, how desperate I sounded, like guilt even though I knew I was innocent.
She didn't flinch.
"Look," she said quietly, "I believe you."
I laughed once. It came out wrong. Sharp. Ugly.
"But," she continued, "people like Nakamura. She's popular. They'll protect her. You can't really blame their reactions."
I looked away.
So that was it. Even when she believed me, she still explained them. Still softened the people who hit me. As if understanding them was more important than standing with me.
My jaw tightened. I said nothing. If I spoke again, I knew it would come out bitter. Or worse, broken.
She stood up and reached into her bag. "I'll help you with what Kudo suggested," she said. "But first, you really need bandages."
I glanced at her hand, the white rolls peeking out like an afterthought. "Why help all of a sudden?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it. It wasn't angry. Just tired.
She paused.
"This," she said, gesturing at me, "is the point where not helping you would actually damage you. Before the fight… I wasn't needed."
She handed me the bandages. Our fingers brushed for half a second.
"Thanks…" I muttered.
I turned toward the mirror and started wrapping them around my face, careful, slow. Every movement stung. Not just my skin. My pride too. I hated being seen like this. I hated even more that she was the one seeing it.
Then a knock slammed against the door.
Loud. Urgent. Like whoever was on the other side didn't plan on waiting.
I froze.
Another knock followed, even harder.
I walked over and opened the door.
Ichika stood there, breath slightly uneven, hair a bit messy like she'd rushed. The moment she saw me, her face changed completely.
"What happened? Why didn't you ca—"
She stopped mid sentence.
Her gaze dropped.
Two pairs of shoes sat neatly by the door. One pair mine. One pair definitely not.
Girl's shoes.
Her lips parted slightly. Just a little. Like her brain needed a second to catch up.
"Huh…?" she said softly. "You have a friend over?"
My stomach tightened.
"Y-Yeah," I said too fast. "It's just Ayumi. She came to check on me."
"Oh."
That one word carried way too much weight.
She smiled right after. Too quick. Too practiced.
"Ohhh," Ichika said, stretching the word. "That's sweet."
She smiled. Bright. Easy.
"Mind if I come in?"
"Sure…"
She slipped her shoes off and stepped in. The room suddenly felt crowded, even though nobody had moved closer.
"Oh, hiiii," Ichika said, spotting Ayumi instantly. "You must be Ayumi, right?"
Ayumi stiffened. Just a bit. Enough for me to notice.
"Hello," Ayumi replied. "You're Nakamura, right?"
"Yes," Ichika said, smiling again.
Her eyes flicked to my bandaged face. Then to Ayumi. Then back to me.
I felt like an object being passed back and forth.
I nearly choked.
"Oh," Ayumi said. "I came to check on him."
"I figured," Ichika replied, nodding. "You got beautiful hair!"
"Yes."
"Thank you…"
"So," she said, turning back to Ayumi, "how long have you two known each other?"
"Not… very long." I said
"Oh?" Ichika tilted her head, smiling. "Still, she came all this way. That says a lot."
The smile stayed. The meaning underneath didn't.
Ayumi shifted her weight. "I should probably go. He needs rest."
Ichika clasped her hands together. "Already? That's too bad."
She looked at me.
I nodded.
Ayumi grabbed her bag. "Take care," she said to me.
"I will," Ichika replied for me, stepping slightly closer. "I've got him."
Ayumi paused, then nodded. "Good."
The door closed behind her.
Ichika exhaled, long and slow, then turned back to me like nothing happened.
"She seems nice," she said casually. "Very attentive."
"She's just helping," I said.
"I know," Ichika replied quickly. Too quickly. "I didn't say anything."
The room was quiet until…
"You made Ayumi leave…"
I said it quietly this time.
Ichika didn't pretend she hadn't. She exhaled and nodded once.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Then why do it?" I asked. "It doesn't help us at all."
She leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, thinking. When she spoke again, her tone was steady. Too steady.
"Because I don't know her."
I blinked. "That's it?"
"That's enough," she replied.
She pushed herself off the desk and started pacing the room, talking as she moved, like thinking out loud was easier than standing still.
"She shows up out of nowhere. She knows where you live. She walks in, sees you hurt, and suddenly she's the one taking care of you."
"So?"
"So I don't trust people who step into roles that fast," Ichika said. "Especially around you."
I frowned. "That's not fair to her."
"I'm not being fair," she admitted immediately. "I'm being careful."
She stopped in front of me.
"You don't rely on people," she said. "You barely rely on me. So when someone new manages to slip past that wall in one afternoon, I pay attention."
"She was just helping."
"I know," Ichika said. "But help turns into dependence when someone's hurt."
Her voice softened. "And right now, you're hurt."
I looked away.
"I'd rather you rely on me," she continued, quieter now. "Not because I deserve it more. Not because I'm special."
"Then why?"
"Because I know how you break."
The words landed hard.
"I know when you say you're fine, you're not," she said. "I know when you're pretending something doesn't matter. She doesn't."
"That doesn't mean she can't learn."
Ichika smiled faintly. "And that's exactly what scares me."
She ran a hand through her hair, frustrated now.
"I don't know what she wants," she said. "I don't know how far she'd go. I don't know if she'd leave once things get complicated."
She looked at me again. Direct. Honest.
"But I know myself."
Silence stretched between us.
"I know I won't disappear when you push people away," she said. "I know I won't misunderstand your silence. And I know I won't turn your worst day into something you owe me for."
I swallowed.
"So yes," she finished, "I pushed her out. Because if you're going to lean on someone, I want it to be someone who won't drop you halfway through."
She stepped back, putting space between us again.
"And no," she added quickly, "that doesn't mean anything romantic. Don't twist it."
She looked away.
"It just means I'd rather you rely on someone you already know won't leave."
I was blushing the entire time.
"T-Thank you… I honestly don't know what to say," I told her.
My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
She wasn't trusting Ayumi enough to handle what I felt. That was the truth of it. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Ayumi hesitated before helping me. She looked like she was deciding whether I was worth the trouble. Ichika never hesitated. She never did.
Ayumi leaving me someday felt possible. Logical, even.
That didn't make Ayumi a bad person. It just made her human.
I exhaled slowly. I couldn't be mad at her.
"It's no problem, Kenji," Ichika said easily, like this wasn't heavy at all. "Now talk to me. I understand what was going on. And trust me, this is already being resolved. I know who did this and why she did it."
'She'?
The word echoed.
"I'm sorry…" I muttered, staring at the floor.
She frowned instantly. "You have no reason to be sorry."
"I do," I said, the words tumbling out faster now. "I've ruined your reputation. Your image. Your social life. Your everything. Why even talk to me after what happened? Why stay near me when being near me just causes problems?"
She didn't answer right away.
"That's what I thought," I continued, voice cracking. "If I was smarter, if I was more careful, if I just stayed quiet like I should have, none of this would've happened. I should've known better. I always mess things up. I always-"
She stepped forward and pulled me into her.
Her arms wrapped around me, firm and warm, like she was anchoring something that was about to drift away. My forehead pressed against her shoulder. I froze for half a second before my hands curled into her uniform.
Honestly, this was a classic move for her at this point. She always did this when my thoughts spiraled too far.
And it still worked every time.
"Kenji," she sighed softly.
"W-What…"
"I want you to listen to me," she said. Her voice was calm, steady, unshaken. "Can you do that?"
"Y-Yeah…" I said.
She tightened her hold just a little.
"You didn't ruin my life," she said. "You didn't ruin my image. And you definitely didn't ruin me."
My chest felt tight.
"People talk," she continued. "They always do. Tomorrow they'll talk about something else. That's how it works."
"But-"
"No," she cut in gently. "You don't get to take responsibility for other people choosing to be cruel."
She pulled back just enough to look at me.
"You didn't do anything wrong," she said. "You were hurt, and someone decided to use that against you. That's on them. Not you."
I swallowed hard.
"And as for why I'm still here," she added, quieter now, "it's because I trust you won't disappear when problems appear. So neither do I."
Her arms stayed around me.
Slow. Steady. Certain.
"And if you're going to lean on someone when you think everything falls apart," she whispered, "it might as well be someone who won't let go just because it's inconvenient."
"Thank you…" I said, stepping back just a little.
Not because I wanted distance. Because I didn't want to trap her in something she didn't offer. Ichika noticed, of course. She always did.
She didn't comment on it.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, voice lowered, gentle in a way that didn't pity me.
"Right now, yeah," I said. And for once, it wasn't a lie.
She studied my face like she was checking for cracks I hadn't noticed yet.
"Good," she said. "Then you should rest. Your head's a mess, and not just because of the hit."
She smiled faintly. "I'll come back later to check on you. Is that acceptable?"
The way she said it made it sound like a joke. Like she wasn't already decided.
"Yes, of course…" I replied.
She turned toward the door, already slipping back into that calm, social version of herself. The one everyone saw. The one that never seemed shaken.
And that's when the thought hit me.
It wasn't loud. It didn't panic me.
It just sat there.
"W-wait, Ichika…?"
She stopped and turned around immediately. No sigh. No impatience.
"Huh? What is it?"
I hesitated. My fingers tightened against the blanket.
"How do you always know what to say?"
She blinked.
"What do you mean?"
I struggled for the words. "It's like… you never hesitate. You don't stumble. You don't make things worse. You always know exactly what I need to hear, even when I don't."
She stared at me for a moment longer than necessary.
Then she laughed. Quiet. Short.
"You really think that?"
"Yeah," I said. "All the time."
Her smile softened, but there was something tired behind it now.