Chapter 4: Invisible Threads, Visible Cracks

The next day arrived without fanfare.

Kaito sat at the same table in the same quiet corner of the library, sunlight spilling through the windows like it always did—soft and warm, a deceptive comfort.

Mio sat across from him, textbook open, her pencil moving in neat, deliberate lines. But something was off.

Different.

Quieter.

She hadn’t said much since they sat down, and it wasn’t the usual silence of shyness. This was something else. Like her thoughts were trapped somewhere he couldn’t reach.

Kaito stared down at a page of equations and didn’t bother pretending to solve them.

“You alight?’ he asked quietly, eyes still on his book.

MIo didn’t respond right away. Her gaze was out the window, unfocused. Below, students passed by in little groups—laughing, talking, alive. And among them, Hiroshi and Yuki walked side by side, arms brushing, laughing about something that only made sense between them.

Mio’s hands tightened slightly around her pencil.

“I’m,” she murmured.

Kaito didn’t press. But he didn’t believe her, either.

He recognized this sort of silence. It wasn’t just absence of words–it was the weight of ones that had no place to land.

The rest of their study session passed in a muted burst. Mio answered questions, but only just. Her usual nervous energy was dulled, and Kaito could feel the difference. Something had shifted, like a thread in the air had been tugged to tight.

Afterward, as he walked home under a gay-blue sky, the image of MIo staring out that window stuck with him.

Being Hiroshi was getting exhausting.

The constant smiling. The thoughtful gestures. The way he had to soften his voice, time his words, pretend to be someone whose optimism wasn’t just an act—it was second nature.

He didn’t know if he was doing it right. But at the very least, it felt like they’d become closer.

Sort of.

Now though, that friendship had hit a wall. One he anticipated.

“How does Hiroshi fix heartbreak?” Kaito muttered to himself, dragging his feet. “He’s not even in the damn manga half the time. And when he is, he fixes everything by existing.”

Aphireia, of course, was nowhere to be found. No smug remarks. No divine wisdom. Just the lingering echo of her command:

“Help them heal. Help them move on. Or suffer.”

Right. Suffer. Terrific motivation.

The next morning brought something even more confusing.

Kaito spotted Mio just outside the school gates. She was talking to someone.

A boy.

Ryota Wakamatsu.

Kaito recognized him immediatley—classmate, B-tier supporting character in Cherry Days. the sort of guy who blended into the background with a permanent friendly smile. Harmless. MIdly popular. One of the only boys in the manga who had ever bothered talking to Mio, even briefly.

Now here he was, chatting with her like they did this often.

Mio was smiling.

It was faint. Polite. But it was there.

Kaito stopped walking for just a moment.

That….wasn’t in the manga. In the original story, Ryota and Mio never really interacted beyond a couple of lines. She’d always been too shy, too emotionally guarded. So why now?

Has something changed?

Was he watching a glitch in the timeline?

Mio glanced in his direction and offered a small wave.

Kaito, caught off guard, waved back automatically. Then kept walking, expression unreadable.

Later, during lunch, Kaito took his usual spot in the corner of the classroom. Arms folded. Eyes half-lidded. He stared without staring—his gaze angled just enough to track Ryota’s movements across the room.

The guy was surrounded by friends, showing something on his phone. Confident. Natural. Effortlessly likable. Mio sat a few desks away, eating quietly. She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t leaning in.

But every now and then, her eyes drifted toward Ryota.

That same unreadable look.

Kaito frowned.

That wasn’t the look of someone still caught in heartbreak. It wasn’t quite longing, either. It was… curiosity. Interest?

No. That’s too fast, isn’t it?

He told himself not to care.

Then he kept caring.

After school, Kaito found himself standing at the shoe lockers when Ryota passed by.

Ordinarily, he wouldn't bother. He didn’t talk to guys like Ryota. He didn't talk to anyone unless he had to.

But this time, he spoke.

“Hey, Wakamatsu.”

Ryota blinked, surprised. “Oh—Sugiura, right? What’s up?”

He knows my name…guess the goddess also added me to everyone’s memories who was necessary, Kaito thought.

Kaito shrugged like it was nothing. “You play soccer, yeah? Pickup games?”

“Sometimes,” Ryota said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Ususally Wednesdays. Why?”

“Thinking of joining. Need to get more active.”

It was the most blatant lie he’d told all week, but technically not a complete one.

Ryota smiled. “We’re short a guy today, actually. You down?”

Kaito hesitated for effect, then nodded. “Sure.”

Five minutes into the game, Kaito regretted everything.

He was winded. Miserable. One of the younger kids tried to pass him the ball and he completely whiffed, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Meanwhile, Ryota played like he belonged in a sports anime. Effortless dribbling, easy passes, flashy footwork.

Mio appeared halfway through the match to return a notebook someone left behind. Ryota noticed her immediately—mid dribble, even—and waved at her with a grin.

She waved back.

Then left.

Kaito didn’t miss any of it.

After the game, he collapsed ont a bench, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel. His legs felt like jelly. Ryota popped down beside him, tossing him a bottle of water.

“So,” Kaito said between gulps, “You and Hanazawa talk often?”

Ryota tilted his head. “Hanazawa? Sometimes, yeah. Why?”

“You two seemed close.”

“Not really,” Ryota said with a shrug. “She’s cool. Just… quiet.”

There was a pause. Kaito tried to keep his face neutral.

Then Ryota gave him a look. “Wait. You like her or something?”

Kaito choked. “W-What?”

Ryota laughed, holding up his hands. “Hey, no judgement. It’s just, I’ve seen you two talking. That’s more than I’ve seen either of you do with anyone else.”

Kaito forced his voice flat. “She’s helping me study. That’s it.”

“Got it, got it.” Ryota chuckled. “Sorry. Guess I was overthinking it.”

Kaiot stared at him, still catching his breath.

Might as well get to the point.

“So… are you into her?”

Ryota froze. “What? No! Not at all.”

“Really.”

“I mean, she’s cool and all, but I’m into Tanabe,”

Kaito blinked. “...Tanabe? As in Irashi Tanabe?”

“Yeah. Hanazawa’s friend. I’ve actually been asking for her advice–-how to talk to Tanabe without being a total idiot.”

Kaito leaned back on the bench and stared at the sky.

Well. That’s unexpected.

Ryota rubbed the back of his neck. “So I’ve been trying to help Hanazawa too. You know, be more confident. Talk to people. Figured we could help each other out. “

So that’s what this was. Not a romance. Not a threat.

Just two people trying to grow.

Kaito let out a breath.

“She likes sweets,” he said suddenly.

Ryota blinked. “Sorry?”

Ryota blinked. “Sorry?”

“Tanabe,” Kaito clarified. “She likes sweets. If you want to catch her attention, try that.”

Ryota grinned. “Duly noted. Thanks.”

A beat passed. The other players were packing up, some calling out offers for ramen.

“You’re coming, right?” Someone called to Ryota.

“Yeah, yeah!” he shouted back, grabbing his things.

He looked down at Kaito. “You wanna come too?”

Kaito shook his head. “Nah. Go ahead.”

Ryota nodded. “Thanks again, Sugiura. For the tip.”

Then he was gone.

Kaito sat alone.

He watched the sky, soft and gold and just starting to slip into the evening. A breeze passed, tugging lightly at his shirt collar.

“I really overthought all of that,” he muttered.

That night, lying in bed, Kaito stared up at his ceiling with his phone resting on his chest.

He hadn’t learned anything about Ryota, really.

But he remembered something important about Mio.

In the manga, buried between her quiet moments and soft words, there had always been one lingering desire: to be someone more than just the girl in the background. She wanted to change. To be brave. To grow.

She’d just never had the tools for it.

Until now.

Kaito sat up and typed something into his notes app.

Step two: Help Mio gain confidence.

He wasn’t sure how.

But Hiroshi probably would’ve figured it out.

And if he couldn’t be Hiroshi perfectly… maybe learning how to fake it was good enough.

For now.