Chapter 5: — "Feeling Worry for the Boy Who Used to Hurt My Feelings?!"

Morning sunlight poured through the tall classroom windows, catching the dust motes in golden flecks. Sakura slipped quietly into her seat, clutching her bag to her chest as if it were a shield. Her stomach twisted with the same nervous knots she’d carried since transferring here, but something felt… different today.

She set her notebook down, smoothed the cover with her hand, and glanced around the classroom. Most students were chatting, laughing, or scrolling on their phones. Ordinary, normal, almost comforting in its own way.

Then her gaze drifted to the desk by the window, a row over from hers.

Empty.

Haruto’s seat was empty.

Sakura blinked once. Then again. The chair remained vacant, untouched, not even a bag or book left behind. She stared at it, half-expecting him to come sliding in at the last moment, maybe with that slightly cocky grin of his… the same expression she remembered from long ago, and the one he’d worn when he defended her yesterday.

But the seat stayed empty.

Her throat felt dry. “He’s… not here?” she whispered under her breath.

A strange uneasiness prickled through her chest. It was only the second day of school, why would he already be absent? Had something happened? Is he sick? Or maybe…

Her thoughts tripped over themselves, spiraling faster and faster until she shook her head lightly. Why am I even worrying about this?

She pressed her pencil against her notebook, trying to focus on the board where the teacher was preparing the first lesson of the day. But the words blurred, her ears catching only fragments of instructions.

Her gaze slipped back, again and again, to that empty seat.

It’s none of my business… it doesn’t matter…

She lowered her head, pressing her lips together. Even as she scolded herself, her chest still felt tight, almost restless. She remembered how he had looked yesterday when he confronted those boys, when he told her he wasn’t the same person anymore. The sincerity in his voice.

She clenched her pencil a little harder.

Why do I feel like this… like something’s wrong… just because he’s not here?

The teacher’s voice rose, calling the class to attention, and Sakura sat up straighter automatically. But even as the lesson began, her eyes kept drifting toward the empty desk by the window.

It was just one missing student. That was all.

Still, the classroom felt strangely incomplete without him there.

—

The lunch bell rang, and chatter filled the air as students streamed out of the classrooms. Sakura packed her lunch slowly, her thoughts still stuck on that empty seat beside the window.

Maybe he just caught a cold, she told herself, clutching her lunchbox as she stood. Or maybe he overslept… Haruto never struck me as the punctual type back then.

Still, the uneasy knot in her stomach hadn’t gone away.

She made her way down the hall, the sound of laughter and footsteps growing louder until she stepped into the courtyard. The sunlight was bright, the air buzzing with the energy of students gathering in groups, chatting, and eating.

Sakura took a deep breath, scanning for an empty spot where she could sit quietly. But before she could move, a sharp, mocking laugh cut through the courtyard.

“Man, can you believe Shinohara? He’s such a weakling now.”

Sakura froze, her eyes darting toward the voices. Three boys leaned casually against a bench beneath a tree, their uniforms slightly messy, their smirks sharp like knives. She recognized them instantly—Ren, Yuto, and Keigo.

Her heart jumped. It’s them… Haruto’s old friends… the ones who used to…

Yuto snorted. “What happened to the ‘cool guy’ he thought he was back in middle school? Now he’s just a pathetic little pussy.”

Keigo laughed loud enough for nearby students to hear. “Yeah, no wonder he hides behind that goody-two-shoes act. Can’t even fight back anymore.”

Sakura’s grip tightened on her lunchbox. Their voices carried easily through the courtyard, and students nearby tried to ignore them, but the words landed like stones in Sakura’s chest.

They’re… talking about Haruto...

She wanted to turn around, to walk away, but her feet wouldn’t move. Something about hearing those words, those cruel, familiar tones she’d once heard directed at her, made her freeze in place.

And before she could slip away, Ren’s eyes locked on her.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well, look who it is. Isn’t this interesting?”

The other two boys followed his gaze, and Sakura’s stomach dropped.

Ren’s grin widened as he stepped away from the tree, his hands shoved lazily into his pockets. “Well, if it isn’t Shinohara’s little tagalong.”

Sakura’s stomach tightened. “M-me?” she stammered, clutching her lunchbox to her chest.

Yuto snorted, walking a slow circle around her. “Who else? You’re the only one he’s been hanging around. Guess he found himself a new pet.”

Keigo laughed sharply. “Careful, though. Stick around him too long, and you’ll catch his weakness.”

Their words sliced through her, cruel and mocking, each syllable a reminder of the past. Sakura’s throat constricted, her hands trembling. Why… why does it feel just like back then?

“P-please… just stop,” she whispered, barely audible.

The boys leaned in closer, smirking at her trembling figure. Ren tilted his head, his voice low but sharp. “You’re lucky he’s not here. If Shinohara were around, things would probably be worse than this. Trust me, you don’t want to see what we can do when he’s watching.”

Sakura’s heart sank. The image of Haruto’s empty seat flashed in her mind, and for a split second, she wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of the boys, or worried about Haruto himself.

“Back. Off.”

The voice cut through the courtyard like a whip.

Ayaka marched up, her lunch tray still in hand, her eyes blazing. She planted herself firmly between Sakura and the boys, her posture sharp and unyielding. “What do you think you’re doing, cornering a first-week transfer student? Pathetic.”

Ren chuckled, lifting his brows. “Oh? And who’s this? A knight in shining armor?”

“More like a loudmouth trying too hard,” Yuto sneered.

Ayaka smirked, unfazed. “If standing up to trash makes me a loudmouth, then I’ll happily shout all day.”

Sakura’s eyes widened at Ayaka’s boldness. Her heart fluttered with something between awe and relief.

Keigo clicked his tongue. “Tch. Whatever. Not worth the trouble.”

The three boys exchanged a glance, muttering curses under their breath before striding off, their laughter trailing behind them.

Ayaka stayed rooted in place until they disappeared from sight. Only then did she turn to Sakura, her face softening. “Hey… are you okay?”

Sakura nodded shakily, though her voice cracked. “Th-thank you… I don’t… I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t…”

Ayaka smiled, her tone gentle now. “That’s what friends are for, right? Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

The words sent a pang straight to Sakura’s chest. She clutched her lunchbox tighter, hesitating. Then, almost against her will, the truth spilled out.

“Haruto used to be… one of them.”

Ayaka blinked. “…What?”

Sakura lowered her gaze, her voice trembling. “Back in elementary… Haruto was my biggest bully. He and those boys... Ren, Yuto, Keigo... they made my life miserable. Every day, I… I cried. I begged my parents to transfer me, and eventually, they did. I thought I’d never see him again.”

Her hands shook, and she squeezed them tightly to stop the trembling. “And now… here he is. Protecting me. Acting like he’s changed. But every time I look at him… those memories come back. I-I don’t know what to believe.”

Ayaka’s brows furrowed, her usual cheer replaced by a deep sympathy. “Sakura…”

Sakura forced a wobbly smile. “He seems different now, I know that. And part of me… wants to believe him. But I can’t… not completely. Not after everything he did.”

Ayaka reached out, gently resting a hand on Sakura’s arm. “I get it. That kind of pain doesn’t just vanish. But the Haruto I’ve seen here? He’s nothing like the guy you just described. He’s stood up for people before. He’s kind, even when no one’s looking. I think… he really has changed.”

Sakura’s throat tightened. Ayaka’s words felt warm, but her heart still wavered between hope and doubt.

“…Maybe,” Sakura whispered. “But my heart… it just won’t let me trust him fully. Not yet.”

Ayaka nodded firmly. “Then don’t force it. Take your time. If he really has changed, he’ll prove it to you, without rushing you.”

The lunch bell rang, signaling the end of recess. Students began to shuffle back inside, the noise around them swelling.

Sakura stood slowly, her mind heavy with thoughts. Even as she followed Ayaka back toward the building, her gaze lingered on the courtyard where Haruto’s old friends had laughed.

Why wasn’t he here today?

That empty seat flashed in her mind again. For reasons she couldn’t explain, her chest ached at the thought.