Crossing back into the first-year wing feels different this time.
Last year, every hallway felt like a maze of stares and whispers. Now, as I walk out of the second-year building, there's a strange weight off my chest. Not gone—but lighter. Like I finally took a step I should've taken long ago.
Tachibana didn't forgive me. Not really. But she didn't walk away either.
And that has to count for something.
Haruki is leaning against the vending machines, sipping a canned coffee like he's been waiting there since yesterday. He spots me and raises an eyebrow.
"So?" he asks.
"I apologized."
"And?"
"She didn't throw a chair at me, so that's something."
Haruki snorts. "Man, your standards are in the basement."
"Hey, I'll take anything above 'restraining order.'"
He clicks his tongue. "She say anything else?"
"She appreciated the apology. But she couldn't promise anything."
Haruki leans back against the machine, arms crossed. "That's fair. You messed up bad, but at least you owned it."
I stare at my shoes. "I don't know what to do now."
"Then start over."
"Start what over?"
"You," he says. "You want to move forward? Then do it. Be Yuuto—the guy who learns from his screwups. Not the ghost of last year."
His words cut deeper than I expect. In a good way.
I raise an eyebrow. "When did you get so wise?"
"Probably around the third can of this awful vending-machine coffee," he says, tapping the can.
I actually laugh. Not a nervous one. A real one.
For the first time in a long time, I don't feel like I'm just surviving.
---
Days pass.
The memory of talking to Tachibana lingers, but it doesn't drag me down anymore. I start doing little things — sitting up straight in class, volunteering for answers, even joining in group activities.
At one point, a classmate waves at me through the window.
My body reacts before my mind does — I wave back.
Haruki nearly drops his drink.
"Bro… was that Yuuto Takahashi being social? I need to sit down."
"Shut up," I mutter, but I'm smiling too.
Even if things with Tachibana never change… I don't want to be stuck in the past anymore.
---
We're at the vending machines again when Haruki suddenly freezes mid-joke and elbows me hard.
"Okay, don't freak out," he whispers, "but your redemption arc is walking straight toward us."
My heart stops.
Tachibana.
All the confidence I thought I had—every moment where I thought I could speak to her without shaking—was just in my head.
My hand clenches the cold can so tightly it hurts.
My palms are already sweaty.
My fingers tremble like they forgot how to be still.
She looks… thoughtful. Tired.
Just like always, she reads my soul with one glance.
"Hey," she says. Voice quiet, but not cold.
"H-Hey," I say, trying not to sound like my tongue is made of lead.
A painful silence stretches…
But she breaks it first.
"About the other day…" Her arms fold tightly. "I don't know what I think of you yet."
My chest squeezes. "Okay."
"But I can tell you're trying."
Her eyes flick to my shaking hands — then up to my face.
She saw it.
"I don't forgive you," she says. Her voice is a wall again. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I don't hate you. I just… need time."
"I understand. Take all the time you need."
She stares at me a second longer — like she's searching for something — then gives a tiny nod and walks off.
I stay frozen.
Haruki claps my back. "She didn't punch you. I'm counting that as a win."
This time… I laugh. Not out of fear.
Because it feels good.
Because I'm changing.
If she needs time…
Then I'll spend that time becoming someone worth waiting for.