Quiet Effort

Mio’s fingers ached.

She rubbed her hands together before lifting them again, eyes fixed on the screen of her laptop. On it, a woman demonstrated simple sign language phrases with careful movements and gentle expressions.

Mio copied her slowly.

Hello.

Nice to meet you.

Her hands hesitated, fingers bending the wrong way. She groaned softly and dropped them into her lap.

“This is really hard…”

But instead of closing the laptop, she leaned closer.

The next video played. Then another. Her notebook filled with messy drawings of hands and notes scribbled in the margins.

She practiced in the mirror, watching her own expressions. The instructor had emphasized that hands weren’t enough—faces mattered too.

She smiled. Then tried again, more softly this time.

Hello.

Something about it made her heart flutter.

At school the next day, Mio found herself watching Haru more closely than before.

The way his eyes flickered from face to face, reading lips and expressions. The way he reacted just a second later than everyone else. How he always sat where he could see the board clearly.

It wasn’t strange anymore.

It was… him.

Between classes, she caught sight of him standing alone near the lockers, focusing on his phone. Mio took a few steps toward him—then stopped.

Her hands curled into fists.

"Not yet, she told herself. I’ll mess it up.”

Haru looked up just as she turned away.

He watched her retreating figure, confusion tugging at his chest. Lately, he’d noticed it—a warmth in the way she looked at him, the way she lingered nearby, like she wanted to say something but didn’t.

It felt dangerous to hope.

At lunch, Ren and Kenta joked loudly at the table as usual. Haru smiled, responding when he could. But his gaze drifted across the room until it landed on Mio.

When she met his eyes, she startled slightly—then smiled.

Not the bright smile she gave everyone.

A smaller one. Softer.

Haru’s chest tightened.

Later that evening, Mio sat in her room once more, hands raised in front of her mirror.

Hello, Haru.

She stopped.

Her face heated as she pressed her palms together.

“…Okay. One step at a time.”

Back at home, Haru lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Today felt different.

Like something was slowly, quietly changing.

And for the first time in a while, that feeling didn’t scare him.