Chapter 11: — "Scars of Yesterday (III)"

The streets were nearly silent when Sakura returned home.
A soft drizzle had begun to fall, the same gentle kind that brushed rooftops like a sigh.
She hung her bag by the door, took a slow breath, and walked into her room.

It was quiet there, too quiet.
The kind of quiet that makes thoughts echo louder than they should.

She changed into her pajamas, pulled her hair into a loose braid, and sat at her small wooden desk. The faint hum of the rain outside tapped against her window.
For a while, she simply stared at the old leather-bound notebook that lay beside her sketchbook.

It wasn’t new, the edges were slightly worn, the corners frayed.
On the first page, in neat cursive, she had written:

“For the things I can’t say out loud.”

She opened to a fresh page and picked up her pen.

The ink bled softly into the paper as she began to write.

Dear Diary,

Today Ayaka invited me out for ice cream by the seaside.
It felt… nice.
The sound of the waves, the cold air, and the way the sunset looked on the water, it reminded me that maybe the world isn’t always cruel.

We laughed about silly things at first, school, clubs, random people walking by.
But then she asked about my past.
About them.
About him.

And I froze.

It’s strange, I thought I’d be able to talk about it without breaking. But when she asked, it was like opening a door I’ve kept locked for years.
I saw their faces again.
Heard their laughter.
Felt that same rain on my skin, the same sting of humiliation.

I didn’t tell Ayaka everything, just enough for her to understand.
Still, her eyes, she looked like she wanted to cry for me.
No one’s ever done that before.

And for the first time, I didn’t feel alone in that memory.

But then something else happened.
She mentioned Haruto’s name, and I felt this strange ache in my chest.

Why do I still worry about him?
Why do I care if he looks tired or lost?
He’s the reason I stopped smiling back then.
The reason I started believing kindness was dangerous.

So why does seeing him now make me feel… sad instead of angry?

Am I crazy for worrying about someone who once made me cry?
Or is that just what time does, softens the sharp edges of pain until it turns into something else?

I don’t want to forgive him, at least, that’s what I tell myself.
But maybe forgiveness isn’t something you decide; maybe it just happens slowly, without asking for permission.

He’s changed.
I can see it.
There’s guilt in his eyes, not the kind you fake, but the kind that stays no matter how much you try to hide it.
When he defended me the other day, I didn’t know how to react. I wanted to thank him, and scream at him, and cry all at once.

Maybe I still will someday.

Ayaka told me I’m too kind.
She doesn’t understand, I’m not kind. I’m just tired of carrying hate.
It’s heavy, and it doesn’t make the past any lighter.

Still… I wish I could forget the rain that day.
I wish I could forget the sound of my sketchbook hitting the puddle, or the way he looked away when I begged him to stop.
But I can’t.
Maybe I never will.

And yet, even after all of it, if I saw him standing in the rain again, alone and hurting,
…I think I’d still hold an umbrella for him.

Does that make me weak?

I don’t know.

But maybe it means I’m healing.

— Sakura.