The Sketch That Was Never Given

“Ren.”

The voice felt distant, barely registering in his mind. His fingers tightened slightly on his desk, his body still, but his heart—his heart was somewhere else.

Rika was saying something, but he wasn’t hearing her.

Because, he wasn’t in this classroom. He wasn’t sitting next to her.

He was back there—back to a time when things were different.

Back to when he was still him.

⸻

A Different Ren, A Different Time

“You’re sketching again?”

Hana’s voice was soft, teasing yet familiar. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she watched Ren’s pencil glide across the page.

Ren smirked, not looking up. “Of course. What else am I supposed to do during lunch?”

She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t know—maybe eat?”

He chuckled, setting his pencil down. His lunch sat untouched beside his sketchbook, but before he could make an excuse, Hana had already slid her bento toward him.

“Here, at least eat something while you draw.”

Ren sighed but took a piece of tamagoyaki anyway. “You sound like my mom.”

“Your mom’s a smart woman, then,” she said, laughing.

Daiki, sitting across from them, shook his head. “You two are hopeless.”

Ren grinned. “And yet, you still hang out with us every day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daiki muttered, taking a sip of his juice. “Someone’s gotta keep you both alive.”

This was how it always was. The three of them—Ren, Hana, and Daiki.

They had known each other since they were kids, their bond built on years of shared memories. Daiki had always been the loud, carefree one. Hana was the warmth that held them together. And Ren?

Ren was… happy.

He hadn’t realized how much until much later.

⸻

A Gift Worth More Than Words

That night, Ren sat at his desk, tapping his pencil against his sketchbook.

Tomorrow was Hana’s birthday.

He had never really thought about gifts before, but this time felt different. He didn’t want to buy something meaningless. He wanted to give her something real. Something that mattered.

And then the idea came.

He opened his sketchbook to a fresh page. His hand moved without hesitation, sketching the first thing that came to mind—a moment frozen in time.

It was the three of them, sitting in class, laughing.

Hana’s smile, soft and genuine. Daiki’s head thrown back mid-laugh. Ren, in the middle, grinning like he had no worries in the world.

He worked late into the night, shading every detail with care. By the time he finished, his fingers ached, but the drawing was perfect.

He closed the sketchbook with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

Tomorrow, he’d give it to her.

⸻

A Small Moment Before Everything Changed

“What do girls even like as gifts?” Ren had asked the next morning, walking to school with Daiki.

Daiki gave him a sideways glance. “Why? You trying to confess or something?”

Ren snorted. “Shut up. It’s just a birthday present.”

“Uh-huh.” Daiki smirked. “Well, if she’s always smiling at you, I don’t think you need a gift, bro.”

Ren shook his head, chuckling. He didn’t argue.

Because, in that moment, Daiki’s words didn’t feel wrong.

⸻

The Moment That Stayed With Him Forever

The day passed in a blur. Ren didn’t get a chance to give her the drawing during school, but that was fine. He’d wait until after.

So when the final bell rang, he hurried out of the classroom, sketchbook in hand, searching for her.

Then, he found her.

Near the tree at the edge of the school grounds.

She wasn’t alone.

There was a guy standing next to her, someone Ren barely recognized. Tall, confident, the kind of person who naturally stood out.

But it wasn’t the guy that mattered.

It was her.

The way she looked at him.

Ren’s feet slowed. His grip on the sketchbook tightened.

Hana was smiling. But it wasn’t the smile she gave everyone.

It was softer. Brighter.

Different.

“You’re different from other guys,” she was saying, laughter in her voice. “With you, it just feels real.”

Then, she reached for his hand.

And he held hers back.

Ren couldn’t move.

He didn’t breathe.

The world around him blurred, voices fading into meaningless noise. He wasn’t even sure if he was standing there or if he had already disappeared.

The sketchbook in his hand felt wrong now.

Like it didn’t belong to this moment.

Like he didn’t belong to this moment.

He took a slow step back. Then another.

And without a word, without a sound—

He left.

⸻

The Walk Home That Never Felt Longer

Ren didn’t remember walking home that day.

The streets passed by in a haze, the sounds of the city muffled, distant.

The drawing—the one he had stayed up late to finish, the one he had poured himself into—felt meaningless now.

By the time he reached his house, his hands were trembling.

He opened his sketchbook, stared at the drawing one last time.

Then he tore it out.

The paper crumpled under his fingers, the lines he had carefully drawn disappearing into folds and creases.

He tossed it into the trash.

Then, finally, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

⸻

Back to the Present

“Ren.”

His eyes snapped up.

The classroom was back. The past faded.

Rika was watching him, her brows slightly furrowed, concern flickering in her expression.

“You spaced out,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Ren forced himself to breathe evenly. He shifted back into the mask he had worn for years, the one that hid everything, the one that made it seem like nothing had ever touched him.

“I’m fine,” he murmured.

But this time—

This time, it didn’t fully work.

Rika’s eyes didn’t waver.

Because for the first time since she had met him—

Ren’s face was readable.