Between Words and Silence

The classroom buzzed with the usual post-lesson energy—students shifting in their seats, conversations overlapping, the occasional scrape of chairs against the floor. The announcement of the project partners had already faded into the background for most, but for Rika, it still lingered in her thoughts.

She had expected some kind of reaction from Ren, even if just a sigh or a look of mild annoyance. But there had been nothing. No acknowledgment, no change in expression. Just the same distant, unreadable demeanor he always carried.

And that—somehow—made her feel even more aware of him.

But before she could dwell on it, Aika’s voice pulled her back into the present.

⸻

The Usual Conversations

“So,” Aika started, leaning across the desk with a grin, “Mayu and I were talking about this earlier, but do you think Nakamura-sensei paired people randomly or on purpose?”

Mayu, who was neatly closing her notebook, gave Aika a flat stare. “It’s random. Obviously.”

Aika scoffed. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“You don’t!”

Rika exhaled, half-smiling at their usual back-and-forth. It was familiar, easy, something she had gotten used to over the years.

“Why?” she asked, playing along.

Aika smirked. “Because listen—I got paired with Mayu, and you got paired with Takahashi.If that’s not intentional, I don’t know what is.”

Rika raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“That maybe,” Aika dragged out the word, “Nakamura-sensei saw something interestingand thought, ‘Hmm, let’s shake things up a little.’”

Mayu rolled her eyes. “Or he just read names off a list.”

Rika shook her head, amused. “It doesn’t matter either way. It’s just a project.”

“But you don’t even talk to Takahashi, right?” Aika said, tilting her head.

Rika hesitated, her mind flashing back to yesterday. To the apology. To his vague yet strangely intentional response.

“…Not really,” she admitted.

Aika sighed dramatically. “Well, now’s your chance! Maybe you’ll unlock his tragic backstory.”

Rika gave her a deadpan look. “This isn’t some novel.”

“Maybe it should be.” Aika wiggled her eyebrows.

Mayu shut her notebook with a small thud. “Enough. Just do your project and stop overthinking it.”

Aika huffed but didn’t argue.

And for a while, the conversation shifted to something else—weekend plans, upcoming tests, rumors floating around the school. But even as Rika spoke and listened, a small part of her remained focused elsewhere.

⸻

A Conversation That Almost Didn’t Happen

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

Students filed out in groups, chatting as they made their way toward the doors. Rika packed her bag at a steady pace, not rushing but not lingering either. When she finally turned, she found Ren still at his desk, finishing up his notes with quiet precision.

For a moment, she considered leaving without saying anything.

It wasn’t like he was waiting for her. He probably didn’t even care if they discussed the project today.

But something about that thought unsettled her.

So, before she could talk herself out of it, she took a step forward.

“…Takahashi.”

Ren didn’t startle at the sound of his name. He simply finished writing the last stroke of a kanji character before setting his pen down. Then, finally, he looked up at her.

His gaze was calm, steady, unreadable as always.

Rika crossed her arms, shifting her weight slightly. “About the project. We should probably figure out how we’re doing this.”

Ren nodded once. “Yeah.”

Silence.

Rika frowned slightly. Was he waiting for her to continue?

“…I guess we should decide how we’re splitting the work first,” she said. “Any ideas?”

Ren considered for a moment before replying.

“I’ll handle the sketches,” he said simply. “You can present and explain them to the class.”

It was a practical division of labor—straightforward and efficient.

And for some reason, that made Rika pause.

“…Just like that?”

Ren nodded. “You’re good at speaking. I’m better at drawing.”

It wasn’t a compliment. Just a fact.

But still, Rika found herself caught off guard.

“You don’t even want to discuss it first?”

“There’s no need,” he said, adjusting the strap of his bag. “It makes sense.”

Another pause.

Rika wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this.

Most people would’ve at least hesitated, maybe tried to split the work more evenly or asked for input. But Ren had simply decided.

It wasn’t arrogance.

It was just… certainty.

Rika studied him for a second longer.

“You seem pretty confident,” she muttered.

Ren shrugged. “Not really. It’s just the most efficient way to do it.”

Something about the way he said that made Rika tilt her head slightly.

“…You’re reliable.”

Ren blinked.

That… wasn’t what he had expected her to say.

He didn’t react outwardly, but internally, the words caught him off guard.

People didn’t usually call him that.

They called him quiet. Awkward. Someone who kept his distance.

Not… reliable.

He wasn’t even sure how he felt about that.

But before he could think too much about it, Rika continued.

“Alright,” she said, shifting back to her usual tone. “That works for me. But we should at least go over what the sketches should look like.”

Ren gave a small nod. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll have a rough idea by then.”

Rika narrowed her eyes slightly. “You really don’t waste time, huh?”

Ren didn’t answer immediately. Then—

“I just don’t like dragging things out.”

Rika hummed, crossing her arms again. “Alright. Tomorrow, then.”

With that, the conversation was over.

There had been no unnecessary words, no awkward small talk—just a direct discussion that ended as quickly as it began.

And yet, as Rika watched Ren pick up his bag and head toward the door, she couldn’t help but feel like something had subtly shifted.

Just a little.

Just enough for her to notice.

⸻

A Quiet Thought

As Ren walked through the emptying halls, he exhaled quietly.

Reliable, huh?

That wasn’t how he saw himself.

He was just… someone who minded his own business. Someone people naturally kept their distance from.

And Rika?

She was someone who cared about reputation, about how people perceived her. She was confident, social, and well-liked.

They weren’t the same.

And they never would be.

That was fine.

Right?

Ren shook his head slightly, pushing the thought away.

It didn’t matter.

This was just a project. Nothing more.

And yet, as he stepped outside, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that things wouldn’t stay that simple for long.