A Quiet Understanding

Ren Takahashi was different.

Not in a way that people openly pointed out, but in the quiet, unspoken ways that set him apart. He wasn’t antisocial. He wasn’t cold. He simply existed in a world that didn’t quite match his pace.

While his classmates found comfort in chatter and social circles, Ren found it in silence. He didn’t mind people, but he didn’t seek them either. The classroom was just another place—somewhere he had to be, not somewhere he belonged.

And that was fine.

At least, it was fine until Rika Fujisawa entered his space.

She wasn’t a problem, not exactly. She had never been rude to him, nor had she tried to drag him into unnecessary conversations. But ever since they had been seated together, things had shifted—just a little, just enough for him to notice.

And then, the bumping incident happened.

It wasn’t a big deal, at least not to him. But her reaction had made something very clear—her reputation mattered. Not in an arrogant way, but in a way that dictated how she carried herself. She was careful, calculated, and aware of how others perceived her.

Ren understood that.

That’s why, without a second thought, he distanced himself.

It wasn’t personal.

It was just… easier.

The Smallest Distances

The days following the incident were subtle but undeniable. Ren stopped glancing in her direction. He stopped acknowledging her presence, even in small ways. It wasn’t avoidance—it was respect.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

During class, he focused on his notes, writing with the same careful strokes he used in his drawings. At lunch, instead of eating at his desk, he began leaving the classroom—sometimes to the rooftop, sometimes to the library, anywhere that wasn’t here.

It wasn’t like Rika would notice.

Or so he thought.

The Unexpected Conversation

One afternoon, just before lunch, Ren was packing his books when a voice cut through his quiet routine.

“Yo, Takahashi.”

Ren looked up. A tall guy with slightly messy hair stood in front of him, a lazy smile on his face.

Daiki Hayashi.

If there was anyone Ren spoke to in this classroom, it was him.

Not often. Not deeply. But enough.

“Surprised you’re still alive,” Daiki joked, sliding into the seat beside him. “You’ve been quiet. Well, quieter than usual.”

Ren gave a small shrug. “Didn’t feel like talking.”

Daiki smirked. “And here I thought you finally got tired of ignoring people.”

“I don’t ignore people,” Ren corrected. “I just… mind my own business.”

“Same thing.” Daiki leaned back. “You and Fujisawa got switched to the same desk, right?”

Ren didn’t respond immediately, but his slight pause was enough of an answer.

Daiki chuckled. “Man, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she keeps looking at you.”

Ren frowned. “What?”

“I mean, not in a weird way. Just… observing. Like she’s trying to figure something out.”

Ren didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

Because he already knew that much.

A Silent Realization

Rika had noticed.

She hadn’t meant to, and she certainly didn’t want to admit it, but it was there.

The difference.

At first, she had been irritated. He was acting like she didn’t exist, like she was just another background character in his life. But after a while, that irritation faded into something else.

Curiosity.

Ren Takahashi was… different.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a way that made him stand out. But in the smallest, strangest ways.

He never interrupted.

He never forced himself into conversations.

He never tried to prove anything.

And yet, he noticed everything.

That meant he had been paying attention—not just to her, but to everything.

That thought unsettled her.

Or maybe it intrigued her.

Either way, she had to do something about it.

The Apology

The final class of the day ended, and students began packing up. Ren, as usual, moved at his own pace. He wasn’t in a rush to leave.

Until—

“Hey.”

He turned.

Rika stood beside him, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

She exhaled, as if debating something in her mind. Then—

“I’m sorry.”

Ren blinked.

For the first time, she looked uncertain.

And that—more than anything—made him pause.

Because Rika Fujisawa was never uncertain.

And yet, here she was, apologizing to him.

For what?

For the bumping incident?

For how she reacted?

For something else entirely?

Ren wasn’t sure