The last bell rang, echoing down the hallways like a sigh of relief. Students began filing out, their chatter filling the corridors, but I stayed in my seat for a few seconds longer—just to make sure the wave had passed.
I stood slowly, slipping my notebook into my bag. I didn't know if it was the food or the silence we shared while eating, but something had felt... different during lunch.
And for some reason, I didn't want the day to end just yet.
As I walked out the door, I noticed her standing just outside, waiting.
I hesitated.
She smiled when she saw me. "Hey."
I didn't look at her directly, but I nodded.
I hesitated a few seconds but preceeded to say "Thanks… for the food."
She blinked. Then her eyes lit up, and she let out a small, high-pitched squeak that made a few nearby students glance our way.
"You actually said something!" she giggled, clasping her hands like she'd won a prize. "And you thanked me! That just made my day!"
I stared, unsure what to do with the sudden joy pouring off her like sunlight.
"I knew you had a voice," she added, mock-suspicious. "I was starting to think maybe you were just a very well-dressed mannequin."
I sighed quietly, but she laughed again and fell into step beside me.
"Are you… walking home?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager.
I answered " Yes " she replied " Good then let's walk home together "
I didn't answer directly but I didn't try to stop her either.
---
The streets were dim with evening light, lined with vending machines and the soft hum of cicadas beginning to stir.
We walked without saying much, and for once, I didn't feel the need to fill the silence—or escape it. She walked close, but not too close. Just enough to remind me she was there.
When we reached the intersection where our paths split, she paused.
"Hey," she said, turning to face me.
I glanced at her, only briefly.
"If you really want to thank me," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, "then… greet me tomorrow morning."
I blinked. "What?"
She grinned. "I mean it. I'm not going to say good morning first. I'll wait."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off.
"I've greeted you every single time. Just once… I want you to say it first."
She looked at me with those bright, hopeful eyes—eyes that didn't know the number I'd seen floating above her head. Eyes that didn't know how fast time was slipping.
Before I could say anything, she gave a playful wave.
"See you tomorrow, Kazuki!"
And just like that, she turned and walked down her street, her steps light as always.
I stood there, watching until she disappeared around the corner.
Then I whispered to myself, almost without meaning to—
"…Good night."