The day I caught Yuuto Takahashi following me,
I felt sick.
I'd seen him before—always glancing, always
silent. I figured he was just shy. Some boys were like that: they looked, but
never acted.
But then it kept happening.
Always at a distance.
Always watching.
At first, I told myself I was imagining it.
Coincidence. Nervous paranoia.
But that day…
He followed me out of school. He wasn't even
subtle about it.
I spun around so fast my friends froze
mid-sentence. The whole group went silent—just eyes on us.
My chest tightened. My hands shook, but I
curled them into fists.
"Why are you following me?" I
demanded.
He looked like he'd been slapped.
His eyes—wide, terrified—like a cornered
animal.
"Are you seriously stalking me?" I
raised my voice, cheeks burning with fear and anger. "I've seen you
staring at me in class, too. What's wrong with you?"
He flinched. His knuckles went white.
Still—nothing.
"Say something," I pushed, my heart
pounding like it wanted to escape my ribs. "If you've got anything to
say—then say it."
He opened his mouth… then shut it again.
And then… he ran.
That should've been the end.
But afterward, my friends whispered:
"He's such a creep."
"He probably does that to other girls
too."
And I just stood there, pretending their
voices didn't make me feel sick.
Because for some stupid reason…
a small, shameful part of me was flattered.
I hated that part. I buried it deep.
--
We kept walking, but I wasn't listening
anymore. My ears buzzed; my heart twisted.
Eventually, the others left to catch their
buses. Only Miyu stayed.
She hesitated, then quietly said:
"Rina… maybe you were a little harsh on
him."
My throat snapped tight.
"Harsh?" I turned on her. "You
think I should've just let him follow me around forever?"
"N-No," she stammered, her eyes soft
with concern. "I just… he looked scared."
Her kindness made everything worse.
"What if he hurt me?" My voice
shook, louder than I meant. "What if he's dangerous? You don't know!"
Miyu flinched—but didn't step back.
And suddenly… the fear broke me.
"You don't know how it feels…"
Tears spilled before I could stop them.
"He was everywhere. Always behind
me."
"I didn't know what he wanted… I was
scared, Miyu."
She wrapped her arms around me, and I
collapsed into her shoulder.
"I just wanted him to leave me
alone," I whispered.
"I didn't want to be afraid at
school."
"I know," she murmured. "I
know."
I cried because fear made me cruel.
Because I didn't know what was right anymore.
Because weakness feels like failure.
---
That night, the fear hadn't fully left.
Mom asked if I wanted dessert. I said no. Dad
asked how school was. I lied.
Kaede kept staring at me across the table—his
older-brother stare that sees past every mask I try to wear. Sota was too busy
stacking broccoli into a tower to notice anything.
After dinner, I tried escaping to my room.
Didn't make it.
Kaede grabbed my wrist gently but firmly.
"Rina. Talk."
"I'm tired."
"You're shaking."
I froze. I didn't even realize I was.
He pulled me into my room, shut the door
behind us, and crossed his arms like a guard dog with questions.
"What happened at school?"
"Nothing," I muttered. Weak lie.
Kaede stepped closer. "Someone bother you?"
The word bother cracked something inside me.
My throat tightened.
My eyes burned.
And suddenly, the truth wanted out.
"A boy was… following me," I whispered.
Kaede's entire posture changed—calm expression
gone, replaced by something sharp and dangerous.
"Who?" His voice dropped low. "Give me his
name."
"I—no." I stepped back, shaking my head hard.
"I handled it."
He scoffed. "You confronted him alone? What if
he grabbed you? What if—"
"He didn't!" The words came out too loud, too
emotional. "He just… stared. Always staring."
Kaede clenched his fists. "That's messed up,
Rina. Guys like that—"
"I know!" My voice broke and suddenly tears
slipped free again. "But I was scared, Kaede. I didn't know what he wanted. I
just—acted."
Kaede's eyes softened immediately. He stepped
closer and put a hand on my shoulder.
"You should've told me."
"I didn't want to worry anyone."
"I'm your brother. Worrying about you is
literally my full-time job."
A shaky laugh escaped me, bitter and sad.
He held my gaze, serious again.
"If he comes near you again, you tell me. I'll
deal with him."
"…I don't want you to hurt him."
Kaede blinked—surprised.
"So you… feel bad for this guy?"
I wiped my face quickly. "I don't know what I
feel."
Fear.
Anger.
Something I refuse to name.
Kaede sighed through his nose, torn between
fury and protectiveness.
"Fine," he said. "But if he tries anything, I
won't hold back."
He pulled me into a quick hug—rough, awkward,
but warm.
"I've got you," he whispered.
When he left, the silence felt heavier.
I crawled into bed and stared at the dark
ceiling.
Why didn't I give Kaede Yuuto's name?
Why did part of me hesitate?
Why… was I relieved he ran instead of fought
back?
I buried my face into my pillow.
Fear makes us cruel.
But what scared me most wasn't Yuuto Takahashi
stalking me.
It was the terrifying possibility that he
wasn't just a shadow to fear…
…but someone I might one day care about.
---
Then he disappeared.
Rumors spread.
He repeated the year.
Transferred. Dropped out.
No one knew.
I felt relieved…
But also guilty.
Some people hurt others not because they're cruel—
but because they're scared.
I was scared.
Scared he'd see past the confident girl I
pretend to be.
Scared he'd notice how fragile I really am.
So I built walls.
High ones.
---
And when he came back—quiet, distant, avoiding
me entirely—I noticed.
He wasn't staring anymore.
Wasn't following me.
Wasn't even looking in my direction.
Like the old him never existed.
Then… a few days ago… he walked up to me.
No excuses.
No pretending.
Just a sincere apology that shattered the
story I'd written about him.
---
And today—
He's by the vending machines with his friend.
Laughing
Not nervously.
Not awkwardly.
Just… living.
Before I can stop myself, I walk toward him.
His friend nudges him and slips away.
"Hey," I say—flat, not cold.
He turns. Our eyes meet. His fingers tremble
like he's holding onto courage that's melting through his hands.
"Hey," he replies—small but steady.
Silence stretches.
"About the other day…"
I fold my arms—my barrier, just in case.
"I don't know what I think of you
yet."
His throat bobs. "Okay."
"But…"
I look away. Looking at him feels too real.
"I can tell you're trying."
He looks genuinely surprised. Like he didn't
expect a second chance.
"I don't forgive you," I say.
"Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I don't hate you. I just… need time."
Time to lower my walls.
Time to figure out whether he's really
changed.
Time to understand why a part of me cares.
"I understand," he says quietly.
"Take all the time you need."
There it is again.
That soft honesty.
It scares me more than last year ever did.
I nod and walk away—before my heart confuses
me into staying.
But I glance back—just once—
And he's smiling.
Not nervously.
Not like before.
Hopeful.
And that terrifies me.
Because if he really has changed…
What does that mean for the walls I worked so
hard to build?
---
I didn't know it yet…
but that moment was the start of everything
changing?.