I couldn't confess my feelings so I was sent back in time
The wind whistled in a soothing manner as a first year started up and through the school gates. The bright school building illuminated in rays of yellow throughout the night, and short utterances of cheerful conversations could be heard, even from so far away. In his shaking hands he gripped a small piece of paper, a note. Although it would be more appropriate to compare it to that of a speech. He stared down and quickly skimmed over it's length.
"No," he suddenly said to himself. "this is stupid." Adding a small amount of force into his grip, the paper began to crumble. The force of his fist had shown in a spiderweb of lines that now covered the majority of the note.
"Even so," he continued as if he'd been in a conversation without brake, and was now seeming to debate himself. "Even so I need to do this."
Quickly reaching a conclusion, he pressed on. Stuffing the note deep inside his pants pockets and steadily walking deeper into the school grounds. Sweat beaded his forehead and quickly coated his palms despite the cool evening air. He removed and placed his hands inside his pockets in a repetitive loop until he reached the school building's entrance.
"Good evening," The suited teacher at the doors greeted him with a smile.
"Good evening." He said in reply, offering a similar smile.
"Are you here for the graduation ceremony?"
Why else would I be here? He silently asked himself. It was after school hours, the only reason anyone was here was to attend the ceremony.
"I'm not graduating myself," He said after a brief moment of silence. "I'm a friend of a graduating student. I promised I'd be here."
"I see," The man grinned. "Well, then I'll trust you make it on time." He stepped out of the way and allowed the boy to move through the entrance.
"Thank you!" The first year exclaimed with glee.
The boy quickly left the fleeting conversation behind him and began roaming the halls of a school he was hardly familiar with. And while he'd only spent a single term behind these walls, he was able to recognize the differences present for the event at hand. The usual white, rather plain walls were decorated with brightly colored frills that hung from their tops. Around almost every corner was an oddly placed emerald balloon, and rainbow streamers. The portrait of the school headmaster that resided in the main hall had clearly been vandalized. Although it was more of a childish prank. His face was littered with stereotypical Chinese whiskers and his bald head had three expo marker streaks of hair added. It was a stupid joke no doubt, but the boy cracked a smile.
"We'll now be asking that the graduating students come up to the stage when called."
The background music that he hadn't even realized was playing suddenly came to a stop, And all was quiet. As the list of third years began being called in an alphabetical order, he put himself into a slightly quicker walk, after a moment of turning corners slipped through the doors of the gym unnoticed.
Covering the majority of the polished wooden floor were tables. Circular white tables each seating four people, all of which were locked onto the stage as the graduating students began to line the length of it.
Not wanting to interrupt, he stood to the back, and quietly waited against the wall. As he stood there, tapping his foot against the floor, time seemed to elapse in an instant, or something close to that. After what felt no longer than ten seconds the entire senior class stood atop the stage. They stared at the crowd, their family and friends, seeming to silently speak of how much they had accomplished.
The boy scanned the group students, and came to frown. There was someone missing. The entire reason he'd attended the event, the one person he'd come to see was absent from the stage. He had seen people he'd knew, recognized their family as people in town, but he didn't see her.
As the seniors began to receive their congratulations, the half crumbled note began to feel heavy in his pocket. His inability to express something that should have been said months ago was finally catching up to him. His last ditch effort had finally been unveiled as the useless, overdue attempt that it was.
A wave of melancholy washed over him and a depressed expression became plastered on his face. She really wasn't here.
Giving the stage one last stare, he offered all the momentary joy he had left as a smile for the graduating students. Good for them, It was there night after all.
He turned to leave, silently wishing that despite everything, it could also be his night.
"Hey, where you off to?"
As the boy stepped through the school doors to leave, the same teacher that greeted him had stopped him.
"The ceremony isn't over after all."
"Sorry," The boy said under his breath, although loud enough for the teacher to here. "My friend isn't here."
"Oh," the teacher frowned. He might had scratched his head if he wasn't bald. "That's too bad. You had something to say to her too, didn't you?"
"Huh?" The boy stared up at the teacher in wonder. "How could you have known that?"
The man shrugged. "You know, the divines work in strange ways."
What was with that? It was a sudden and completely irrelevant. Yet the boy felt as if his word held power and some actual meaning.
"Just wait," the teacher said. "Everything happens for a reason, and I have a feeling you'll find yours sooner or later."
With his words and a wink, he left the boy and disappeared into the school building. He was left to wonder, all at the same time of battling his melancholy. He watched as the teacher left and stared for so long after. He didn't even notice that he'd reached for the note inside his pocket.
Unraveling it, he stared down at the words, and to himself quietly read the last written line on the paper.
"Aya, I love you."