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Almost a week had passed since Mei had declared me her best friend. And the thing was, I had no idea how friendships were supposed to go, given my nonexistent track record and all. Which meant that, maybe - probably - I was just overthinking things. But still… nothing had really changed.
I mean, sure, we still sat next to each other in class, and I guess I technically had a partner for group work now. But other than that? We didn’t talk. Not during lessons, not after. I still spent my lunch breaks next to the dumpsters, bringing my OCs to life on paper, and Mei… Well, Mei was busy being loved. Of course, she was. I’d seen it coming from the start. There was just something about her that drew people in. That made them want to look in her eyes till you forgot why or when or where’s.
I couldn’t say for sure what she did during lunch now - I didn’t want to seem like I was stalking her - but that first day, after she’d so casually claimed me as her best friend, I had followed her around. I don’t even know why. Maybe I thought that was what I was supposed to do? I mean, friends in Anime talked during lunch so… I guess I kinda … nevermind.
Some guys had bought her lunch. Some girls had invited her to their table. And Mei accepted both of course. I knew they hadn’t invited me, but still, there I was, trailing behind her like some lost, hopeful dog.
“It’s fine, she’s with me.”
Mei had said it so easily, like it was nothing, when someone had opened their mouth—probably ready to protest that I, of all people, had dared to approach their table.
And for a moment, that simple sentence had been enough. It had felt like proof that she meant it, that she had truly chosen me, out of all these people, for some reason I didn’t quite understand. I had clung to that feeling, fed it, nurtured it, hoping it would shield me from the creeping doubts that whispered otherwise.
Because that? That was the only time she had spoken to me that day.
The next day bled into the one after that, and the one after that, each slipping past in the same dull rhythm. The only real change was the whispers. The stares. Nasty little things, sharp as needles, pressing into my skin whenever I walked past. It wasn’t even subtle - no hushed tones, no averted gazes. They wanted me to hear. They wanted me to know.
By the fourth day, I had retreated back to my usual spot by the dumpsters, where the air smelled of rot and the ground was cold against my legs. It was easier this way. No more awkward hovering. No more pretending I didn’t hear the laughter at my expense. So no, I didn’t stalk Mei but if someone had asked me where she was, what she was doing, I would have known. It wasn’t a difficult question, after all. Because, it wasn’t hard to notice her. To see the way people naturally gravitated toward her, orbiting her like she was the sun itself. She belonged in the center of things. And I… I belonged here, on the outskirts, where I had always been.
I wanted - desperately - to hold onto the memory of that day. The way her voice had curled around my name, the way her fingers had traced the edge of my drawings like they were something precious. That moment of understanding, of seeing me, really seeing me. But the more time passed, the harder it became to believe in it. To trust that it had ever meant anything at all.
Maybe it had been a mistake. A fleeting kindness. Maybe she had thought I was… acceptable, for a moment. Acceptable, but not enough. And then she met them - the ones who actually belonged at her side - and realized what I had always known: I was disposable.
It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She had never promised me anything. The mistake was mine. Mine, for wanting too much. For thinking, for even a second, that I could have something different. That I could be someone different. The signs had been there, flashing in bright, humiliating colors, but I had been too stupid, too desperate, too… hopeful.
The pen trembled in my grip, pressing so hard against the page that the tip threatened to snap. My fingers ached, but I held on, as if I could anchor myself to something - anything - before the weight in my chest crushed me entirely. My throat burned as I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump that had been building all morning.
I would not cry.
Not over this.
Not over her.
Not when she had probably already forgotten my name.
Not when crying would mean admitting just how stupid I had been to believe, even for a second, that things could ever be different.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔっ♡🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵♡ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Another week passed in the same dull, unchanging rhythm, with only my sketchbook to mark the passing of time. Monika—the tentacled monstrosity from hell—lay abandoned in the back pages of my notes, her ink smudged and forgotten. I’d considered changing her design, maybe softening the details, making her look less like… but no. That wouldn’t change a thing. Monika was Monika, and to erase what made her who she was would make me no better than the rest of her world—the ones who saw her tentacles and nothing else. The ones who judged first, asked later. If they asked at all.
I couldn’t do that to her.
… Wouldn’t do that to myself.
I told myself I’d come back one day, when I was ready to give her the love she deserved. That day simply wasn’t today. And it might not be tomorrow either…
Instead, I buried myself in something new. Something so different, so unlike me, that no one would even guess the OC had been mine. Ponies. I was drawing ponies.
This one was Sunknight Darling, a princess with a mane like spun gold, trapped in a cage built from duty. Her parents had already decided her fate - marriage to some handsome prince from a distant kingdom. A prince she didn’t love. Not that it mattered. What she wanted had never mattered. Not to them. She was a pawn, meant to be played, traded, used for something greater than herself.
She had thought about running. Dreamed about it, even. But dreams were foolish things when the world already knew your name. No matter where she went, she’d be found. Dragged back. Punished, just like before.
And then there was Wood Shimmer.
A simple maid, overlooked and invisible - until the day she found Sunknight Darling crying, alone in the gardens. She shouldn’t have cared. Shouldn’t have stopped. But something about the sight cracked her chest open, made her want to do something reckless. So she did. She swore to help the princess escape.
Maybe they made it out together. Maybe they found freedom, or maybe they found something even closer, something new, yet familiar. Or maybe… maybe they got caught. Maybe Sunknight Darling was forced to watch as Wood Shimmer was taken away, her name never to be spoken again. Maybe the princess went through with the wedding, smiling like a doll - an angel - , her heart rotting inside her ribs.
Yes. Maybe the story had no happy ending at all.
I blinked down at the page, my pencil hovering over the next line. The princess stared back at me with sad, lonely blue eyes. And her friend… her friend’s were even sadder. Yellow, bright as the sun but somehow hollow, somehow lost.
I swallowed hard and closed my sketchbook.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to draw more of them.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔっ♡🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵♡ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
It would take another week for something to change, though I couldn’t say I was happy about it.
Not that I understood what was happening at first. It was Friday during lunch when Mei followed me back to the dumpsters. She didn’t say anything, and I- too stunned to react - didn’t either. So silence it was.
She settled beside me, close enough for me to feel her presence, hear the soft rustle of her uniform as she shifted. At some point, she leaned in to look at what I was drawing. I thought she murmured something - just the ghost of a word - but maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.
I didn’t understand why she was here, not after all this time. Had the others grown tired of her? No, that was impossible. They’d have to be mad to ignore someone like Mei. Which left the alternative - that she had their attention but chose this instead. Chose to sit in the dirt next to me. But that made even less sense. There was no world in which I could be worth more than them.
I could’ve asked why, but I was scared. Scared that speaking would break whatever spell she was under. That drawing attention to it would make her stop coming.
So I said nothing.
Not on Friday, not on Monday, not on Tuesday or Wednesday.
And, eventually, the weight of silence faded. I stopped feeling the awkward press of it on my shoulders, stopped questioning it. I let it settle, let myself lean into the quiet sounds of her breathing, the soft shifts of fabric against pavement. I let myself smile—just a little—at the warmth of another person beside me.
It was almost nice. Almost enough to believe that…- But no. I wouldn’t let myself get used to this. I couldn’t. But… That didn’t stop me from enjoying it.
Then Thursday came. And the reason for Mei’s presence finally caught up with us.
It arrived in the form of Hiroshi Kai.
I had always been lucky enough to avoid him. Too unimportant, too beneath him to waste his time on. Hiroshi only cared about people who had something to offer him, only played the games he knew he could win. If there was an opportunity to double-cross someone, he’d triple-cross instead, just to prove a point. That habit alone had earned him the nickname Rumpelstiltskin —which, honestly, still felt like an insult to Rumpelstiltskin himself.
And now he was here.
“Ah, Mei, there you are.” His voice was all honey and knives. “Me and the others were starting to get worried. I hope that little lesbian hasn’t been bothering you. If I knew she’d become a problem, I would’ve—”
He didn’t get to finish.
Mei giggled. Light. Careless. Dangerous. I saw his right eye twitch.
“Oh my, Hiroshi,” she cooed, tilting her head. “It hasn’t even been a week, has it? So addicted to me already?” She sighed, all mock sympathy. “I am a much sought-after woman, you know. And it would be terribly rude to deprive some people of my presence just because you can’t control your abandonment issues, wouldn’t you agree?”
I saw it—the way his fists curled at his sides.
A slow, dangerous inhale. A sharp clench of his jaw. I wanted to disappear. To melt into the garbage, the dirt, anything but here .
His voice was tighter when he spoke again. “Well, some people are just more worthy of your time than others, doll. Including me. So why don’t you stop being silly and come back with me before you start catching some of the stink?”
It wasn’t a question. It never was.
It was a command.
I knew that. Mei knew that. And I didn’t want to find out what would happen if she disobeyed. Didn’t want her to get in trouble because of me. Didn’t want her to suffer just because I existed.
I opened my mouth. I didn’t know what I was going to say—an apology, an excuse, something to make this easier for her—when I felt it.
A tug at my skirt. Subtle. Barely there.
I froze.
Mei still wasn’t looking at me. Still hadn’t spoken to me in weeks. And yet—
I knew .
Knew that no matter what, I couldn’t let him take her. Because for whatever reason, Mei had come here for help. And she had chosen me .
"No."
My voice came out steadier than I expected.I snapped my sketchbook shut, set it aside, and stood. My legs felt unsteady, but I planted my feet firm, stepping between Mei and Hiroshi.
"I don’t think she will," I said, lifting my chin. "Because the only one being silly here is you. So leave, or I’ll scream."
Something flickered in Hiroshi’s eyes, dark and unreadable, and a shudder ran down my spine. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. Because if I did, he’d just hurt Mei more.
And even if we weren’t friends—not anymore, maybe not ever—I still wouldn’t move. Because this wasn’t about friendship. This was about the fact that, all my life, I had wished someone had been there when I needed a hand. That someone had looked at me and decided I was worth standing up for. I knew what it was like to feel abandoned. To be alone. And if I could spare Mei that pain—if I could show her she was worth getting punched for —then I would. Even if it was going to hurt like hell.
Hiroshi scoffed, his lips curling into something ugly. "I’m not gonna let a useless little faggot tell me what to do," he spat. My stomach twisted, but I held my ground.
"Last warning, bitch," he snarled. "Move, or I’ll show you what it really means to scream."
The dumpsters were far. Too far. On any other day, that was a blessing. It meant no one came by, no one to laugh, no one to bother me.
But today? Today, it was a curse.
I had no idea if anyone would hear me. But that didn’t matter. I took a breath, opened my mouth -
And screamed .
Louder than I ever had before. Louder, and louder, and louder - until my lungs burned, until my throat ached, until the world itself should’ve shaken under the weight of it.
Because even if Hiroshi won - which deep down I knew he would. I was no fighter after all - even if he left me bruised and bloody, maybe - just maybe - a teacher would come. Maybe someone would notice. Maybe Mei wouldn’t be alone with him when it was over. And it was for this maybe, that I screeched. For this maybe that I stood. For this maybe that I fought.
I barely saw the fist coming.
There was a blur of movement - a sharp breath, a shift of weight - then pain.
A white-hot explosion as knuckles cracked against my skull. The world lurched, tilted, folded in on itself. Somewhere - far away, like a dream - I thought I heard Mei scream my name. But that, too, I was sure, was just a byproduct of my hope.
Then —
Nothing.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔっ♡🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵🌵♡ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
When I opened my eyes again, I almost wished I hadn’t.
Pain splintered through my skull, a dull, throbbing ache settling behind my eyes. The ceiling lights above were too bright, blurring my vision, making my stomach churn.
Then -
"Kaori!"
The voice cut through the haze, sharp and frantic. I knew that voice. And despite the pain, I smiled.
"You … You are the most stupid person I have ever met!" Mei’s words tumbled out, fast and uneven, somewhere between anger and something dangerously close to shaken. "Do you have any sense of self-preservation?! What is wrong with you? No—no, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know!"
She was pacing. I could hear the scuff of her shoes against the linoleum floor, the way she kept stopping and starting again, as if she didn’t know what to do with herself.
I wanted to tell her I was fine. That it wasn’t a big deal. That it hadn’t even hurt that much. But I’d always been a terrible liar.
Instead, I let my gaze drift, slowly taking in the too-white walls, the faded curtain drawn halfway across the room, the uncomfortable stiffness of the cot beneath me.
The infirmary. I exhaled. This meant a teacher had heard. Mei was safe .
The knowledge made my smile widen, even as the pain throbbed harder.
"Are you even listening to me?!"
I blinked at her. "Do I have a concussion ? My head feels like it’s about to fall off."
Mei scoffed, crossing her arms. "The nurse says no, but honestly? I doubt she’s qualified. Like—have you seen her? Barely out of med school if you ask me. I bet she’d say you were fine even if you were missing an arm. Truly , the school's standards are atrocious ." She gestured wildly at a chair in the corner. " That thing is a death trap. The fact it hasn’t collapsed yet is nothing short of a miracle. Honestly, the nurse almost looks competent in comparison." She huffed. "I should file a complaint. Maybe I will. No - actually, I absolutely will. "
I let out a small laugh. It hurt. But it was worth it.
No concussion. That was good. I didn’t think my dad could afford another hospital bill anyway. Not after… not so soon after Mom.
And Mei wasn’t hurt either. That was all that mattered.
Sleep tugged at the edges of my mind again, the exhaustion settling deep in my bones. My eyelids felt heavy. Maybe I could just—
"Why did you do it?"
Her voice was quieter now. So quiet in fact, I had almost missed it. But I hadn't. So... I opened my eyes, and turned my head. But she wasn’t looking at me. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve instead, twisting and untwisting the fabric.
Why indeed.
I thought about telling her it was nothing. That it hadn’t been a big deal. That I’d do it again in a heartbeat. (Which I would, but that wasn't the point)
But instead, I said—
"Because it was the right thing to do."
Because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I thought.
Because the word no shouldn’t require a fifteen-page essay explaining your reasons.
Because people like Hiroshi only stopped when someone made them.
“I know he won’t stop. Because he’s …” A lot of things. Too many things. But simply put, "a bad person." I finished. "But that doesn’t mean you should be forced into something you don’t want."
Something in her expression shifted. Just for a second. So quick I almost missed it.
"Wouldn’t be the first time…"
The words were barely above a whisper.
My breath caught. A memory flashed—Princess Sunknight Darling, golden crown and heavy eyes, a beautiful bird trapped in a cage.
I swallowed. The ache in my head dulled only to be replaced by somemthing far more intense. Something so heavy, that I couldn't not speak.
"I’m not always happy," I admitted, staring up at the ceiling. "Sometimes, I’m not really happy at all."
Mei didn’t say anything.
"But at least I’m free to be unhappy on my own terms. I’d choose that over being unhappy and miserable from living a life that isn't mine. The least you deserve is the same."
For a long time, she was silent.
Then—
A hand. Small. Warm. Slipping into mine.
She didn’t look at me. Didn’t say anything.
She just held on.
And for the first time in a long, long while—
I felt warm, too.