One evening, while returning home, Aiyumi noticed something small — almost unimportant.
Ren was walking ahead of her, his shoulders slightly tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
She called his name.
He didn't turn.
She called again, softer this time.
Still nothing.
That's when it hit her.
It wasn't anger that hurt her the most.
It wasn't his rude words or sudden distance.
It was the fear of losing him completely.
Her steps slowed, and her chest felt unbearably tight.
She realized then — quietly, painfully — that what she felt for him was no longer just friendship.
She had fallen for him.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
But slowly… through years of shared laughter, silent support, and unspoken care.
That night, she pulled out her hidden sketchbook — the one she kept tucked deep inside her bag, away from her parents' eyes.
Page after page was filled with Ren.
Ren laughing.
Ren angry.
Ren walking away.
Ren smiling at other girls — the moment that had broken her.
Her pencil trembled as she added another sketch:
Ren standing far away, blurred — unreachable.
A tear fell onto the paper, smudging the lines.
"I can't leave you," she whispered to herself.
"But I can't reach you either."
The sketchbook became her silent confession —
Every emotion she never dared to speak, every word she swallowed, trapped inside charcoal and graphite.
Meanwhile, Ren lay awake in his room, staring at the ceiling.
He was hurting too.
He hated himself for the way he spoke to her.
For the coldness he showed when all he wanted was to pull her closer.
But loving her scared him.
So he broke himself instead.
And every passing day, both of them stood side by side —
smiling, laughing, pretending nothing had changed —
while their hearts quietly screamed everything they refused to say.
💭 About your doubt
No — this is not boring.
This is a slow-burn emotional story, and the pain, silence, and restraint make it powerful.