Chapter 2: – The Word I Shouldn’t Have Said..."

The first thing I heard that morning was the dragging sound of chairs, the shuffle of notebooks, and the teacher’s voice echoing through the classroom:

“Alright, everyone. Partner assignments will be announced today.”

My stomach dropped. Partner assignments. In other words, a chance for fate to toy with me.

I kept my eyes on my notebook, pretending to be calm, but my ears were locked onto every word the teacher said.

One by one, names were read off. Most of the class groaned when they were paired with someone they didn’t like, or cheered when they got their best friend. My chest tightened as each name passed. I knew who I wanted. Who I’d been praying for.

“Yuzuki…”

My head snapped up before I could stop myself.

“…you’ll be with Kaito.”

Time froze. The words rang in my ears like church bells, holy and cruel at the same time.

Kaito.

My crush. The boy I’d secretly admired for months. The boy who had yelled at me yesterday, whose secret I wasn’t supposed to know, whose very existence had tangled up my feelings so tightly I could hardly breathe.

And now… I was supposed to work with him.

“Y-Yes, sensei,” I muttered, cheeks burning as I stood and gathered my things. My legs wobbled with each step, like I was marching to my own execution.

He was already sitting there, at a desk near the window, his bag slung over the chair and his arms folded. He didn’t even look at me as I sat down beside him. Not a glance. Not a twitch. Just the faint reflection of sunlight in his dark eyes as he gazed out the window.

My heart was screaming, “Say something! Say ANYTHING!”

But my mouth refused to move.

The silence stretched.

I pulled out my notebook, flipping through the empty pages just to make myself look busy. The teacher kept talking about the assignment, something about analyzing old world history, how humans handled past wars and conflicts, but I barely heard a word.

Instead, all I could think about was the fact that I was sitting next to Kaito. So close I could see the edge of his collarbone under his uniform shirt. So close I could hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing. So close I could smell the faint trace of machine oil clinging to him, the kind only tech-nerds carried around.

My pen tapped nervously against the paper. Why isn’t he saying anything?

Maybe he was still angry about yesterday. About me opening his locker. About the LS-99 blaster. About almost exposing him. My stomach twisted.

I chewed my lip, stealing a glance at him. He was writing. Calm, focused, his handwriting neat and precise. Like nothing had happened.

Should I say hi? No, that’s too basic. Should I ask about the assignment? No, he’ll think I wasn’t listening. Should I apologize again? No, he already hates me enough—

My pen slipped from my sweaty fingers and clattered against the desk.

He finally looked at me.

Just for a second. Just long enough for our eyes to meet.

And my entire brain short-circuited.

Heat exploded in my face, and I ducked down instantly, fumbling to pick up the pen. Idiot, idiot, IDIOT! You had a chance to say something and you just panicked!

My heart thumped painfully against my chest. Why can’t I just talk like a normal girl? Why do I always freeze up around him?

The teacher’s voice faded in and out. My thoughts were louder than anything else in the room.

What if he’s thinking about yesterday? What if he’s thinking about suspending me over that blaster? What if he knows I almost confessed? What if he can tell I like him?

My stomach was a storm.

“Alright, get started,” the teacher finally announced. “You’ll have the rest of the period to work with your partner.”

Papers shuffled. Voices rose around us as pairs began chatting and brainstorming.

But not us.

Not me and Kaito.

We sat there in silence. Him writing calmly. Me scribbling random words in my notebook that didn’t even make sense. The gap between us felt like a canyon.

And inside, I was screaming louder and louder:

Say something, Yuzuki! Say ANYTHING! Ask about the assignment, ask about his notes, ask about his favorite color, just SAY something!

But the words never came out.

My hand hovered over my notebook, trembling. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know what was about to happen. If I’d stay frozen like an idiot, or if I’d somehow gather the courage to break the silence.

Quietly, carefully, I summoned the sphere.

I needed to know...

It floated just above my notebook, invisible to everyone else but me, shimmering faintly like a soap bubble. My fingers shielded it from view as I held my pen in front, pretending to write.

My pulse quickened. Okay. Just a peek. Just a tiny look at what’s about to happen…

And then—

“What’s that?”

His voice. His eyes. His sharp gaze flicked to the sphere.

I froze.

Kaito wasn’t looking at his notes anymore. He was looking at me. No... at the faint shimmer of the sphere hovering just above my notebook.

My chest tightened.

He wasn’t supposed to see it. No one ever noticed it. Not classmates, not teachers, not even people who sat right next to me. The sphere was subtle, almost transparent, a ghostly window of light that only I should’ve been able to see.

And yet… his sharp eyes had caught it.

“I—uh—” I stammered, heat rushing to my face.

Think. Think. Think!

The sphere’s glow pulsed faintly, waiting for me to let the future play out. But I couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not with him staring directly at it.

I clenched my hand under the desk and willed the sphere to vanish. In a blink, it dissolved into thin air, leaving only the ordinary blank page of my notebook behind.

“Nothing,” I blurted out, way too fast. “It’s nothing.”

Kaito’s brows furrowed. “I saw something. It was—”

“Mind your own business!” The words flew out before I could stop them. Sharp. Cold. Cruel.

The moment they left my mouth, I wanted to shove them back in.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned his gaze back to his notes, as calm and detached as ever.

Meanwhile, my insides crumbled.

What did I just do?! Did I seriously just snap at my crush? At Kaito?

I bit my lip so hard it almost hurt. My face burned, but not from embarrassment this time, guilt.

I’d answered him coldly. Firmly. Like I wanted to push him away. And the worst part? He didn’t even seem bothered. He just shut me out, as if my words meant nothing.

Silence swallowed us whole again, but this time it felt heavier.

I forced my eyes down to my paper, pretending to write, but the words wouldn’t form. My thoughts were spinning too fast.

Why did I do that? Why didn’t I just laugh it off? Why didn’t I just say it was a doodle, or a phone app, or ANYTHING else?

Instead, I’d acted mean. To him. To the boy I liked more than anyone else.

But then… a thought slipped in my mind, uninvited.

So what if I was cold? He was cold to me yesterday, too. When he grabbed me. When he threatened me about the blaster. I was terrified.

My grip on the pen tightened. He deserves a little coldness back, doesn’t he?

But that didn’t make the guilt any lighter.

I glanced sideways at him, heart pounding. He hadn’t looked up once since I snapped at him. His pen scratched steadily against the paper, his posture calm, almost too calm.

I wanted to apologize. To take it back. To say something, anything, to break the ice. But my throat wouldn’t move.

Instead, another thought started bubbling inside me, stronger than my guilt.

Curiosity.

That weapon. The LS-99. The secret he was hiding.

Why did he have it?

The question had been gnawing at me ever since yesterday. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat without thinking about it. Even now, sitting next to him, it was all I wanted to ask.

I gripped my notebook tighter, my voice barely above a whisper.

“…Why did you have a blaster in school?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

And the moment they did, my blood ran cold.

Because I hadn’t whispered them.

I’d said them out loud.

Loud enough that the air seemed to stop. Loud enough that papers stilled and chairs creaked as students turned their heads. Loud enough that even the teacher froze mid-step.

Every eye in the classroom drifted toward him. Toward Kaito.

My heart stopped.

“Blaster?”

Kaito’s voice cut through the silence, steady and controlled. He gave a little laugh, forced, but smooth enough to sound believable. “What are you talking about? She’s joking.”

A few students chuckled uncertainly, glancing between him and me. The teacher, however, didn’t laugh.

The teacher’s eyes locked onto him, sharp and unblinking.

I felt my whole body seize up. My cheeks burned as dozens of eyes shifted to me, then back to Kaito, then to the teacher.

“I’m serious, sir,” one of the boys in the back muttered. “She said ‘blaster.’ That’s a weapon, isn’t it?”

My stomach plummeted.

“No,” Kaito said quickly, waving it off. His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, a stiffness in his jaw. “She must’ve misheard something. Right, Yuzuki?”

I froze, throat dry. Say yes. Just agree. Fix it. Say it was a joke.

But the words wouldn’t come out. My lips parted, but nothing escaped.

The teacher’s voice was low, measured. “Kaito. Stay after class.”

A ripple of whispers spread through the room. I gripped my notebook so hard the edges crumpled. My chest felt tight, like the air had been sucked out.

I wanted to disappear. To sink through the floor and never come back.

Kaito didn’t say anything else. He just turned his gaze back to his notes, as if nothing had happened. But I could see it... the tension in his shoulders, the faint twitch of his hand gripping the pen.

I’d ruined everything.

The teacher resumed talking, but no one was listening. Not really. Whispers buzzed around me, each one like a dagger to my chest.

“Did she say blaster?”
“Does he really have one?”
“That’s, like, illegal, isn’t it?”
“Why would he bring it to school?”

I wanted to scream. To shout at everyone to stop talking. To take back the word that had slipped out of my mouth.

But it was too late.

I stared at the blank page of my notebook, my hand trembling as I tried to write something, anything, to make it look like I was working. But the letters came out shaky, meaningless.

Kaito didn’t look at me once.

Not once.

—

The next day, I swung my locker door open, still half-asleep and clutching my textbooks. The clang of metal echoed down the hallway, but then, footsteps. Heavy ones.

I glanced up.

Kaito was walking down the hall, not alone, but flanked by the teacher and the principal. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Calm on the surface, but I could see it in the way his eyes stayed fixed forward... he was cornered.

My chest tightened.

Every student nearby stopped to stare, whispering to each other. Their voices were sharp, cutting into me.

“Guess it’s true, huh?”
“He really had one?”
“Wonder what they’ll do to him.”

I bit my lip so hard it hurt.

Kaito… this is my fault.

If I hadn’t opened my mouth, if I had just kept the word blaster locked away in my head, none of this would be happening.

He passed by without glancing at me, like I wasn’t even there. But somehow, that hurt worse than if he had yelled at me again.

My hands trembled as I gripped the locker door. My books slid out and crashed to the floor, but I barely noticed. My eyes stayed locked on his back as he disappeared around the corner with the principal.

And for the first time, I felt the weight of my power not as a gift, but as a curse. I could see the future… but I hadn’t seen this.

And now, Kaito was paying the price.

The hallway was empty now, quieter than before. I stood frozen in front of my locker, my hands trembling, my thoughts a tangled mess.

Then I got an idea in my mind.

Wait… I can check. I can see what happens to him.

My heart pounded in my chest as I pressed my palms together, summoning the tiny sphere. It flickered softly in my hands, glowing with that faint bluish light. I ducked into the shadowed corner beside the lockers, shielding it from view. Nobody could see me here.

“Come on,” I whispered under my breath. “Show me. Show me what happens to Kaito.”

The sphere spun, the glow pulsing, and then, images flickered inside it.

But not of Kaito.

Not the principal’s office. Not his face.

It was me.

Me, standing right here in the hallway, tears running down my face, whispering to myself as if the weight of the world was crushing me. The sphere showed me breaking apart, whispering apologies, blaming myself, over and over.

And then it went dark.

“…What?” I gasped, clutching it tighter. “No, no, no... show me him, not me!”

The orb pulsed once more, but the image didn’t change. Just me, crying, guilt twisting my face. Then, with a soft hiss, it dissolved in my hands.

I froze, my chest heavy, dread crawling up my spine. If the sphere wasn’t showing Kaito, then… something bad was going to happen. Something that left me powerless to stop it.

My lips trembled. “No… this can’t be happening.”

Just then, the principal’s door creaked open and everyone turned.

Kaito stepped out, his expression dark, jaw tight, eyes like fire.

“Kaito?” a student whispered. “What happened?”

He stopped, glaring at the floor, then muttered a single word through clenched teeth.

“Suspended.”

The hallway erupted in shocked whispers. I stood frozen, my chest hollow, my heart shattering.

He was suspended.

Because of me.

“Kaito—!”

The word ripped from my throat before I could stop it. I shoved through the crowd of students that had gathered in the hallway, my heart slamming against my ribs.

He turned, eyes narrowing the instant he saw me.

I froze in place for a heartbeat, then forced my legs to move. “I… I’m so sorry!” The words tumbled out, shaky and desperate. “I didn’t mean to say it out loud, I wasn’t thinking—I just—”

Kaito’s glare cut me off. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I told you NOT to bring it up,” he snapped, his voice low but sharp enough to make the people around us fall silent.

My stomach knotted. “I know, I know, I messed up, I—”

“You think this is a game?” His voice rose, anger flaring like fire. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? Do you realize what this means for me?”

The whispers spread again, circling us like vultures. I felt the weight of everyone’s eyes pressing down on me, suffocating.

“I—I didn’t mean—”

“Stop.” He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the fury burning in his eyes, the sharpness that made my chest tighten with fear. “I told you to keep quiet. I told you not to breathe a word. And you couldn’t even do that.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. “I’m sorry, I swear, I—”

“No.” His voice cracked, just a little, like there was something deeper under all the rage. He shook his head, stepping back. “Don’t follow me. Don’t talk to me. Not after this.”

And then he turned, pushing through the sea of students, his shoulders stiff, his back unyielding.

I stood frozen in place, my throat aching, my hands trembling.

I’d wanted to confess to him. I’d wanted him to smile at me. To maybe look at me the way I looked at him.

But instead... Instead, my crush hated me.

And worst of all… I didn’t even blame him.

—

The sun was already low when I walked home, my shadow stretching long across the cracked pavement. My bag felt heavier than usual, like it was filled with bricks instead of books.

But it wasn’t my bag that was heavy. It was me.

Every step echoed with the same thoughts, the same questions, replaying over and over like a broken record.

Why did I say it out loud?
Why couldn’t I just keep quiet?
Why did I have to open my stupid mouth?

I kicked a stray can down the road, the hollow clang bouncing off the walls around me. My chest tightened.

What if I never partnered with him?
What if I never saw that blaster?
What if I never looked inside his locker at all?

I squeezed the strap of my bag, my nails digging into the fabric.

Does he hate me now?

The thought cut deeper than all the rest. It echoed louder, sharper, leaving a pit in my stomach.

Because no matter how I spun it, no matter how I tried to excuse it… the answer felt like yes.

And that single word, that possibility, was enough to break me.

So I walked on, quiet, my footsteps carrying me home, alone with nothing but the crushing weight of my own what-ifs.