Chapter 6: Growing Closer

Days passed, and the rhythm of school life returned to normal for Hikari. Her body was feeling stronger, though the lingering fatigue was still there. She made an effort to catch up on the lessons she had missed, but her thoughts kept wandering back to Aoi, even during the busiest moments. There was something about the quiet, almost unspoken way Aoi had shown her care that left a lasting impression.

She hadn’t expected it to matter as much as it did. After all, they weren’t close. Or, at least, she hadn’t thought they were. Aoi had always been distant, detached—the type of person who seemed uninterested in making friends. Hikari had always assumed that Aoi’s aloofness was just a part of her personality.

But now, she wasn’t so sure. Aoi’s actions, small as they were, had started to speak louder than anything she had said. That simple check on her temperature, the candy left behind—it made Hikari feel like there was more to Aoi than the walls she built around herself.

During lunch break one afternoon, Hikari found herself wandering the halls absentmindedly, looking for a quiet spot to sit. Her usual place was the corner of the rooftop, where she could get a moment of peace and quiet. But as she made her way there, she found herself stopping in front of the school’s entrance, where Aoi was sitting on the steps, seemingly lost in thought.

The usual crowd had scattered for lunch, leaving the area nearly empty, but Aoi didn’t seem to mind the solitude. Hikari hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should interrupt the other girl’s peace. But something tugged at her—a feeling that she should go over, if only to say something, anything.

Aoi looked up when she heard footsteps. Her sharp eyes met Hikari’s, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them stretched, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was just… quiet, like they had fallen into a routine of unspoken understanding.

Hikari hesitated before speaking up. “Hey…”

Aoi raised an eyebrow, her tone neutral. “What’s up?”

“I just… wanted to thank you,” Hikari said, shifting on her feet. “For the candy. And for, you know, checking on me.”

Aoi nodded slightly, her expression softening just a touch. “It was nothing. Didn’t want you to fall in the hall again.”

Hikari blinked, her heart skipping at the offhand concern. She thought about how Aoi had found her, half-conscious and struggling—and how she didn’t make it seem like a burden at all.

She probably says that to anyone, Hikari thought. She probably looks out for others just like this.

Still… her chest fluttered, just a little. It was a quiet, bittersweet kind of warmth.

Aoi watched her for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing—not in suspicion, but like she was trying to read something unspoken. Then she leaned back slightly, resting her arms on her knees.

“You always wander off when you’re thinking too much,” she said.

Hikari blinked. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” Aoi said, her voice even. “Like just now. You stopped walking like your feet forgot what they were doing.”

A pause. Then, with barely a shift in tone: “You looked kinda heavy—not like tired-heavy, just… weighed down.”

Hikari looked away, unsure how to respond. But she noticed Aoi’s trying to cheer her up. She felt it.
But instead of saying I know what you're doing, she just smiled.

Then, Aoi added, “I know a place with vending machines no one uses. It’s quiet. Has a bench, too.”

Hikari turned back, a little puzzled. “Why are you telling me that?”

Aoi scratched the back of her neck, avoiding her gaze. “I dunno. Just thought maybe you’d like it. In case the rooftop gets too windy or something.”

Hikari smiled again—this time more fully, but still soft. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

A short pause, then Aoi added, “Anyway, if you’re going to keep wandering around looking like a lost puppy, at least do it with snacks.”

Hikari let out a small laugh. Genuine. Light.

“I’m okay,” she said after a moment, her voice quiet. “But… thanks. I think that helped.”

“You’re not supposed to be a hero, you know,” Aoi added, her voice still carrying that gentle edge of worry.

Hikari chuckled lightly. “Yeah, that would’ve been embarrassing.”

Aoi turned her gaze away for a second, then looked back again. “Just don’t push yourself too hard. You’re lucky you have people who care about you.”

That line caught Hikari completely off guard. It echoed inside her chest like something important—more than just a passing comment.

There was something personal in the way Aoi said it. Something honest. Something that saw right through her.

Hikari felt her breath catch for a moment.

But she didn’t say anything about it.

She just smiled again, soft and steady. Like before.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Aoi stood up, brushing off her skirt. “Good. Don’t get sick again.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away, leaving Hikari standing there with her thoughts spinning in all directions.

Her heart felt both full and strangely heavy.

She probably says that to everyone, the voice in her head insisted. Maybe I’m not special.

But another part of her—quiet and persistent—whispered back, no… she noticed. Not just that you were there. But how you felt.

That had to mean something… right?

Later that evening, after school had ended, Hikari made her way home, the soft glow of the setting sun casting long shadows on the pavement. She hadn’t expected to feel so lighthearted today, but as she walked, the emotions inside her swirled into something more complicated.

She thought of Aoi’s words. The warmth of her concern. The way she looked when she said, “Don’t get sick again.” And yet, with each step, the doubt crept back in.

She probably treats others the same way…

Even in the bath, the thought lingered. The warm water did little to ease the ache in her chest. During dinner, she barely touched her food, her mind drifting elsewhere.

And when she finally lay in bed, the darkness of her room only deepened her thoughts.

Aoi had been kind. Sweet, even. But what if that wasn’t special? What if Aoi’s care wasn’t just for her?

Hikari stared at the ceiling.

Her heart fluttered with a quiet kind of joy—but it also tightened with a dull ache she couldn’t ignore.

She pulled the covers over her head, eyes stinging just slightly, though no tears came.

I’m happy… but it hurts, she thought.

And with a heart full of warmth and bitterness tangled together, Hikari slowly drifted to sleep.