"Even the brightest stars look lonely when you stare long enough."
---
April 11th.
Four days since the first day of school.
Four days since Hana Watanabe had been given another chance.
The cherry blossoms were beginning to thin, petals scattered across the walkways like memories of something already fading. But to Hana, the season felt suspended. Every day spent near Mio was one more moment she hadn't lost. One more crack she could patch before everything bled through.
And yet—
Despite their shared lunches, shared walks, even their quiet return to archery practice, Hana couldn't ignore it anymore.
There was a distance in Mio's eyes.
Not rejection.
Not fear.
Just… absence.
---
After-School Practice – Archery Club
Thwack.
Hana released another arrow, landing it a little low, just beneath the bullseye. She clicked her tongue and stepped back.
Mio stood beside her in the next lane, fingers poised, posture perfect.
She looked every bit the image of composure — the silent elegance everyone admired.
But Hana saw more.
The way Mio's shoulders tensed just before she released.
The way her right hand trembled, just slightly, after every shot.
The way her smile to the club captain was timed to perfection — like she'd rehearsed it.
> Smile. Nod. Perform. Repeat.
Hana glanced around. No one else noticed.
But she did.
Mio stepped back after her fifth round and met Hana's eyes. She smiled, soft and careful.
"You're improving already," she said.
"You're shaking," Hana said quietly.
Mio blinked.
A pause.
"…Am I?"
"Yes."
Mio looked down at her hand. "Maybe I'm tired."
"Maybe you're lying."
Another pause.
Then a small laugh. "You've gotten blunt."
"I just don't want to pretend anymore."
Mio looked away.
"I'm fine," she said, too quickly.
And that's when Hana knew — she wasn't.
---
Flashback — Middle School, Third Year
Hana walked into the music room, expecting it to be empty. Instead, she found Mio seated at the piano, fingers moving with eerie grace across the keys.
The tune wasn't cheerful.
It was slow. Haunting.
"Mio?"
Mio startled. She stopped playing immediately.
"Hana…"
"I didn't know you played."
"I don't. Just… something I remember."
"What song is it?"
Mio hesitated. "I don't know."
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then Mio whispered, "Do you ever feel like if you stop smiling, everyone will stop caring?"
Hana didn't know how to answer.
She still didn't.
---
Cleaning Duty – Present Day
That afternoon, Hana and Mio were paired together to clean the hallway near the art rooms.
"Do you ever get tired of being perfect?" Hana asked while sweeping.
Mio paused mid-wipe, rag in hand.
"…What do you mean?"
"You always do everything right. Teachers love you. Students stare at you like you're a dream. Doesn't it exhaust you?"
Mio kept wiping. "It's easier this way."
"Easier?"
"People don't ask questions if you're perfect."
Hana set her broom aside. "But… don't you want someone to ask?"
Mio turned to her, eyes unreadable.
"…Would they understand if they did?"
"I would," Hana said.
The words came out before she could stop them.
For a moment, the mask slipped.
Mio looked at her — really looked — like the words pierced something deeper than she'd let anyone near in years.
Then the bell rang.
And the moment was gone.
---
Evening – Hana's Room
Hana sat on her bed, legs folded beneath her, notebook open again.
She had started keeping track of Mio's habits. Not in a creepy way, but as a safety net — anything to catch her before she slipped into silence again.
Observations:
She never talks about home unless directly asked
Avoids physical contact (except under the umbrella)
Never complains, even when clearly exhausted
Practices alone early before club officially begins
Smiles too perfectly — always delayed by 0.5 seconds
Hana circled the last note three times.
Something was wrong.
She remembered from the first timeline — the way Mio always seemed so composed until she wasn't. How no one ever noticed the signs until she was already gone.
"If I want to save her, I have to stop looking at her like a classmate."
"And start seeing her as someone who needs saving."
---
Archery Practice — Two Days Later
It was early — too early for club.
Hana arrived before sunrise, drawn by a hunch.
Sure enough, Mio was already there, alone on the range.
No teachers. No teammates. Just her and the bow.
Hana watched from behind the bleachers.
Mio drew the string. Held it longer than necessary.
And when she released — it missed. Completely.
She lowered her arms slowly. Her breath shook.
Then, she said something under her breath.
Hana couldn't hear it, but she saw the way Mio clenched her jaw. Saw her shoulders curl inward, just slightly.
It wasn't anger.
It was shame.
Mio turned to leave and saw Hana.
They froze.
"Why are you here?" she asked, not unkindly.
"I wanted to walk with you today."
Mio glanced at the ground. "You saw that?"
"I did."
"…I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be," Hana said. "You're allowed to miss."
Mio stared at her, as if she'd spoken in another language.
"I'm not," she whispered.
---
Late Night – Text Messages
That night, after a long stretch of hesitation, Hana sent her a message:
> You don't have to smile when it hurts. I'd rather see you cry than wear a mask for me.
There was no reply.
But at school the next day, Mio brought her two onigiri for lunch — one with salty tamagoyaki.
She didn't say anything.
But the look in her eyes was softer.
Like someone who had been wandering for a long time and finally found a light in the distance.
---
End of Chapter 4
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