A Little Lighter

Haru noticed it on the walk home.

The sky felt closer somehow, the evening air softer against his skin. He adjusted the strap of his bag and slowed his steps—not because he was tired, but because he didn’t feel the need to rush.

School used to drain him.

It wasn’t just the effort of listening or watching or guessing. It was the constant awareness of being out of place, of taking up space without belonging to it.

Today hadn’t felt like that.

At lunch, he’d sat with them. Not on the edge. Not briefly.

Just… there.

Mio had smiled at him once from across the table. Nothing big. Nothing special.

Still, the warmth lingered.

When he reached home, Haru placed his bag down and leaned against the door for a moment. He closed his eyes.

“This is okay,” he thought.

Not happy.

Not perfect.

But okay.

And for Haru Kisaragi, that was more than enough—for now.