Chapter 2: Only I Can See Her?

The next morning began with the same melody of chirping sparrows and the faint rustle of wind against the curtains. Haruto rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly, still carrying the weight of yesterday’s strangeness.

He thought of the girl beneath the cherry tree—Yui Hanabira, with her crooked ribbon and her smile like spring sunlight. He remembered her bright chatter, her carefree humming, and the way she always seemed a little too present, a little too vivid compared to everything else.

And he remembered the silence of his classmates, their blank indifference whenever she was near.

“…No,” Haruto muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t overthink it. She’s just… quirky. That’s all.”

But even as he said it, his chest tightened with unease.

---

When Haruto arrived at school, Yui was already waiting. She waved at him from beneath the cherry tree like they’d been meeting there for years.

“Morning, Minami-kun!” she called brightly, stepping into stride beside him. “Did you sleep well? You had that ‘I’m overthinking everything’ face yesterday.”

Haruto blinked. “I… had a face like that?”

“Mhm. All scrunchy, like this.” She puffed out her cheeks and narrowed her brows, imitating his worried expression so dramatically that Haruto let out a startled laugh before he could stop himself.

“That’s not what I looked like.”

“Pretty close,” she teased, falling into step with him. “But don’t worry, I’ll cheer you up today too. Leave it to me.”

The casual warmth of her words made something flutter in his chest. It was absurd—he’d known her barely a day—but there was a comfort in her presence he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe it was because she treated him like he belonged.

---

The first awkward moment came in homeroom.

The teacher droned on about schedule changes, his voice blending with the scratching of chalk. Haruto sat near the window, quietly taking notes. Beside him, Yui leaned on the desk, resting her chin in her hands.

“Ugh, this is so boring,” she whispered, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Why do teachers love talking about tests so much?”

Haruto glanced sideways. “Shh. Someone will hear.”

“No they won’t. They’re all too focused on pretending to listen.” She grinned mischievously.

Before Haruto could reply, Aya Sato—the sharp-eyed girl in front of him—turned slightly, frowning. “Who are you talking to?”

Heat rushed to Haruto’s face. He froze.

Yui perked up. “Oh! You can tell her it’s me—”

Haruto slammed his notebook shut. “N-no one. Just… uh, talking to myself.”

Aya gave him a long, suspicious look before turning back around.

Yui pouted. “Why didn’t you say it was me?”

“Because,” Haruto hissed under his breath, “nobody else seems to notice you!”

Her pout softened into confusion. “Eh? That’s not true. I’m just… not very popular, that’s all. People forget I’m here sometimes.”

Haruto stared at her, dumbfounded. Not very popular? People had walked through her yesterday.

But Yui just shrugged cheerfully, as if that explained everything.

---

At lunch, Haruto decided to eat outside, hoping to avoid more strange looks. He sat beneath the cherry tree with his bento, enjoying the quiet breeze.

Naturally, Yui plopped down across from him, hugging her knees.

“Oooh, rolled omelet! Can I have a bite?” she asked eagerly.

Haruto blinked. “…You can’t eat, can you?”

She paused, blinking as though she’d only just realized. “…Oh. Right. I guess not.”

For a moment, the cheerfulness slipped from her expression, replaced by something small and wistful. Then she smiled again, brighter than before. “Well, then you eat lots for me, okay? Pretend you’re eating double.”

Haruto sighed, picking up a piece with his chopsticks. “You’re a strange girl, Hanabira-san.”

“Yui,” she corrected firmly, pointing at him with a playful glare. “If we’re going to be friends, you have to call me Yui.”

“Friends?” The word caught in his throat.

“Mhm!” She leaned forward, her eyes shining with unshakable sincerity. “You looked so lonely yesterday. I decided right away—I’ll be your first friend here.”

His chest tightened again. He stared at his bento, the taste of egg suddenly muted by the warmth of her words.

“...Thanks,” he said quietly.

---

The second awkward moment happened in the library.

Haruto had gone there after class to borrow a history textbook. Yui, naturally, followed.

“This place smells nice,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along the spines of books. “Like old paper and secrets.”

Haruto gave a small chuckle. “That’s one way to describe it.”

He found the textbook he needed and pulled it down. At the same time, Yui reached for a volume on the next shelf. To his horror, the book slid out as if tugged by invisible hands—and promptly hovered in midair.

“Ah! Got it,” Yui said proudly, though the book floated inches away from her fingers.

Haruto’s blood ran cold. He quickly snatched it out of the air, pressing it against his chest before anyone noticed. A student at the next table gave him a strange look.

Yui blinked innocently. “Eh? Did I do that again?”

“You think?!” Haruto whispered harshly, shoving the book back on the shelf. “People will think I’m cursed if you keep doing stuff like that!”

Yui giggled softly. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I got excited.”

Her laughter was like wind chimes, so light and genuine that his frustration melted into reluctant amusement.

“…Just be careful,” he muttered, hiding a smile behind his hand.

---

The final awkward moment came at cleaning time.

Students divided into groups—sweeping floors, wiping windows, dusting chalkboards. Haruto was assigned to sweep the hallway. Yui, of course, tagged along, picking up an extra broom.

“Don’t you think cleaning is fun?” she said brightly, sweeping with dramatic flourishes. “It’s like chasing little dust bunnies!”

Haruto almost laughed, but then realized the broom in her hands wasn’t actually touching the floor—it was floating an inch above it.

“Stop! Someone will see!” he hissed, grabbing the broom.

Two boys nearby glanced over. “Uh, Minami, are you… fighting with the broom?”

Haruto froze. “…Just testing it. Heh.”

The boys exchanged a look before shrugging and returning to their work.

Yui covered her mouth, giggling behind her hand. “You’re so funny when you panic, Minami-kun.”

“I’m not funny—I’m going insane,” he muttered.

“Then I’ll be your cure!” she declared proudly, raising a finger like a heroine in a drama.

Haruto stared at her, half-annoyed, half-intrigued. She really believed that, didn’t she?

---

When the day finally ended, Haruto slumped onto the bench beneath the cherry tree. The sunset painted the sky orange, and petals drifted lazily down, landing in his hair.

Yui sat beside him, swinging her legs. “You did well today. Not bad for your second day.”

He gave her a weary look. “Do you… seriously not notice? No one talks to you. No one even looks at you. Sometimes they walk right through you. Doesn’t that seem… strange?”

Yui tilted her head thoughtfully, as if considering it for the first time. Then she smiled softly.

“Maybe. But… I don’t mind. Because you see me.”

Haruto’s breath caught. The sincerity in her voice struck something deep in his chest.

He turned away quickly, hiding his expression. “You’re impossible.”

She giggled, leaning back to gaze at the falling petals. “Impossible, but unforgettable. Right?”

Haruto didn’t answer. But in that quiet, as the world bathed in gold and pink, he felt it—the warmth of her presence, fragile yet irreplaceable.

And for the first time since arriving in this unfamiliar town, Haruto realized he wasn’t alone.