Think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

Cherry blossoms in winter.

A day at the pet cafe.

The night before my birthday.

I'm crouched on the grass with my hands locked over my legs and my face buried in my knees, hidden from the rest of the school in the narrow alley between the two buildings, my back against the wall. The shadows from the looming buildings cast me into darkness, and there's no red around me to dimly light up my surroundings.

I'm alone, and everything hurts.

My eyes are stinging, my chest feels painfully heavy, and my lips are pressed together to keep them from quivering. It hurts so much that I know that if I went back inside right now, I wouldn't be able to keep the pain off my face. I might end up crying at the first sign of a familiar face, and I don't want to put anyone else through that.

So I take a shaky breath, and continue trying to cheer myself up, because there's no one here to do it for me.

Window shopping with Kurumi-senpai.

Akito's home-cooked lunch.

Trivial squabbles with Ren that always end in laughter.

Train rides with Irina.

The weight on my chest eases up, a layer lifted with each name I recall. I close my eyes and keep going.

Irina's slender and kind fingers.

Irina's musical voice.

Irina's moon-like presence.

Irina...

Irina.

Irina.

"The fuck—so you were here."

My breathing comes to a stuttering halt and I gasp, looking up. "R-Ren?"

"Why did you skip class? That's not like you," he says, drawing closer. "Braids for brains has a whole search party out looking for you."

I pull my legs closer to my chest.
Don't. Don't you dare read into that. You know better. I haven't been able to get Irina out of my head at all lately. Wisps of her voice echo in my mind at the most unpredictable times. The smallest things remind me of her. I crawl under my blanket at night, thinking about how her hugs feel warmer.

I've always dreamt up scenarios involving the two of us — holding hands on the ride home, going places together during the weekend, climbing onto the roof and snuggling under the stars. They were merely picturesque ideas, not possibilities.

They were not a version of what might have been, but thoughts leaning more towards maybe in another world.

I don't have the luxury to nurture these feelings, and it's been getting harder and harder to look past them, put them in the back seat. The wall of bitter truths and convincing lies that I built up around my heart to keep these feelings out is slowly crumbling. I'm so tired of Irina's painfully misleading behavior. I wish she would just stop.

"Class is gonna start back up soon. Come on, let's go," Ren says, standing over me with his hands in his pockets.

I slowly shake my head. "G-Go without me."

He scowls. "And risk certain death at the hands of demon girl? Hell no."

"I want to be alone," I lie. "Just leave me alone, please, just for a while."

"I can't."

I sniffle. "I can't go back like this."

He's quiet for a moment. Then slowly, he lowers himself to the ground beside me, folding his legs together. "Make it quick," he mutters, because he can't go two seconds without sounding like the jerkass that he is.

Is he going to stay with me? My breath hitches, but I manage to stifle the sound with my arm. Ren wordlessly sits next to me, his arms crossed, and by simply being there, he helps me coax my breathing into slowing down, until finally, the tears stop.

Then

I shouldn't make him wait.

After a couple of minutes pass, I force the words out of my throat. "Are you okay?" His elbows are cleanly bandaged, but does it still hurt? Has he recovered from whatever happened during lunch break yet? I have a right to know at least this much, don't I? Because I care about him.

Ren was forced into a troubling encounter with his middle school classmates earlier today. I was too far away from the facts, too out of the loop about Ren's life before I met him to follow what was going on, and before I knew it, things took a turn for the worse and Ren verged on a panic attack. I was scared. When he backed away and collapsed to the ground, I called his name, repeatedly, I screamed my throat raw. But he didn't hear me.

My voice didn't stand out to him.

I was no different from every other face in the mob circling him. A helpless bystander. Part of the blurry background.

When Ren didn't respond to my call, my mind simply blanked out. I didn't know what else to do, so I just stood there and watched. In the end, everything turned out okay because Akito had been there too, to help him back to his feet. His soulmate. If he hadn't, I don't know what would've...

I couldn't do a thing for Ren. I always carry this overwhelming desire to protect the people I care about, but in the end, it amounts to nothing, accumulating inside me and building this heaviness in my heart.

There are people who are better suited to stay by his side. There's just no way for someone like me to understand him, to know what he needs. I can't help him. It's not my place. And this knowledge hurt more than I could bear.

The fact that the very memories I use to soothe these aches, come from the people who will inevitably leave me, keeps the pain from completely going away.

"Yeah," he answers. "And you? Are you...doing okay?" he asks awkwardly, fidgeting with his earring.

I nod. "Hey Ren...is everything okay at home?" I ask slowly, my voice no louder than a whisper. I may be getting ahead of myself with a personal question like this, but a yes or a no will suffice. I don't need anything else.

Ren shifts slightly beside me. "I...don't know," he says coarsely.

I look away. He doesn't want to tell me.

"My parents don't love me."

I blink, taking a second to process his words, unsure if I heard right.

"They're supposed to...right? But they don't," he murmurs.

I scoot closer to him. "Don't say that, I'm sure it's not true," I say automatically. "I'm sure they—"

He shakes his head. "I think they want to get rid of me," he says, quietly looking down at his lap.

"But..." There's no way. "They're your parents," I say, dumbfounded.

A short laugh escapes his lips. It carries with it a knife's edge that sinks into my heart. "Ren..."

"Parents. To me they've always seemed more like...robots." He sighs, slumping against the wall, and the words come pouring out of him, the stopper plugging the hole in his heart finally coming free. "It's obvious that the only reason they had me was because they wanted a kid who could inherit their factory. A perfect successor, that's all they ever fucking wanted. Growing up, they would always look at me like I was some dumb project that was underway, like they were making assessments. I..."

I wait patiently for him to gather his words, and move closer, don't stop until our shoulders are pressed together. My warmth against his. I'm here.

"In...in elementary school, I used to...used to shout at the other kids, pick fights with them...because...it was nice to see them react I guess. React to me. It was a relief, because it meant they could at least see me. All I ever get from my mother is this...stupid blank stare. I don't know..." His voice cracks. I take his hand. You're here, with me.

I see you.

"The teachers said I was ill-mannered, and told everyone to s-stay away from me. I didn't...how the fuck was I supposed to know I was ill-mannered? Nobody taught me that shit, they just...they were busy. And after the complaints piled up...they took me out of school and decided to homeschool me instead. Hired a mannerisms instructor and everything. I wasn't allowed to leave the house and it was...hard to breathe."

I gently caress the back of his hand. I want to be straight with you. I want to understand you.

"They let me go to middle-school. And by then I was just so...done with all of their crap. The fights got worse. My grades dropped. The meetings with my teacher got more frequent. And one day...I heard my father say that he would rather s-sell the factory than leave it to me. My mother agreed, and fuck, just like that, they didn't...need me anymore."

My grip on him suddenly tightens. Unforgivable. Ren is so precious to me that I'd give anything to keep him in my life. And right this moment, I can't help but think that anyone who doesn't feel the same is a capital fool. I need you. I need you, because if I can't see your scowl soften into that smirk at least once everyday, something feels terribly wrong.

Ren looses a shaky breath and pulls away. "Shit. I didn't mean to...just forget it." He starts to stand up, but I grab him by the arm.

"It's okay. Keep going."

"Look, it's nothing important. You don't have to concern yourself with it."

I ignore him. "What happened after that?" I whisper.

"I ran away," he chokes.

"You ran away?"

He nods. "I didn't plan ahead, I just didn't think. I roamed the streets hungry for a day, and then it became really fucking clear that I wasn't gonna make it. I can't do jack shit on my own. My father was right, I am useless. So fucking useless. So I..." He stiffens. "Went back. They didn't even realise I was gone. I got my ears pierced to see if they would disapprove. They didn't even notice. They just didn't care anymore."

I care. I care with my whole heart.

"I'm scared. Scared that they'll...I don't know, send me away if I cause any more problems, because they don't need me anymore, so why bother? I can't support myself, I know that much, so I stay out of their way. I stopped picking fights, started seriously studying...it was...it was really fucking scary—" Stay with me.

I throw my arms around him and hug him as hard as I can, hoping that it's enough to make up for all the hugs he missed out on growing up. Gently stroking his hair, I whisper, "Shh, it's okay. I'm sorry your parents made you feel that way, but you're not useless."

"I'm not?" he whimpers.

"You're not. You're smart, you're strong, and you're kind. And at the end of the day, that's all that matters."

It takes him a while to fully lean into my embrace, and when he opens his mouth again, his voice comes out sounding quaky and broken. "I always screw everything up, I always make a mess of things—"

"You don't."

"Who cares if I'm good at math?" he cries, teeth clenching in frustration. "I couldn't even teach that idiot."

Ah. I pull back and look at his face. "Akito doesn't care about that."

He looks at me, eyes red from pent up emotion. "It doesn't matter. I'm useless, and he knows it. He won't let me do a thing for him."

So that's what this is about. I fight back a smile. Somehow, it's not surprising at all. "If it bothers you so much, you can always come to us, you know that right?" I say carefully, letting my hands rest on his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. "We'll help you out, Ren. If it's cooking that you want to learn, we'll teach you, and you'll be able to prepare five star dishes by yourself before you know it. And if you want to improve your handwriting—"

"The fuck is wrong with my handwriting?"

"Um, what I'm trying to say is, let us help you." I breathe nervously, and open my mouth, knowing full well that these next few words aren't going to mean much coming from someone like me, but I say them anyway. "You're not alone."

His gaze drops to his lap, uncertain.

"Ren," I say quietly. "It's okay to depend on other people, you know?"

He scoffs. "And become a thorn in the ass?"

"That's not—" I let my hands drop from his shoulders. "Think about it," I start. "If you're always doing everything by yourself, no one will feel free to ask anything of you. But if you let yourself depend on other people, every now and then, in turn, they'll feel comfortable depending on you."

He frowns. "The fuck?"

Kneeling before him, I smile. "You opened up to me today." Relied on me. "Trusted me with your feelings and allowed me to listen. And now I feel like I can ask you for anything."

His brows furrow in thought. "Like what?"

I pretend to give it some thought. "Would you..." My heart starts to beat twice as fast, and my stomach churns uncomfortably. I know this will be a long shot, but maybe, given that Ren just opened up to me, it won't seem as ridiculous a request. I steel myself, and finish, "Please be my friend?"

He looks at me funny. "Aren't we already?"

"W-We are?" I stutter in disbelief.

He averts his eyes, embarrassed. "That's what I thought."

We are.

I smile down into my lap. Friends.

"Sorry for suddenly getting all weird like that," Ren mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "But I feel better now, so...thanks."

"Ren, it's okay. I know that talking about your feelings isn't an easy thing. Thanks for telling me."

"I only did it...because it's you. You're always easy to talk to," he mutters, meeting my eyes again for just a second. At the time, the implication behind those words doesn't fully catch up to me.

I stand up, dazed and happy, and stretch my hand out to him. He doesn't really need my help getting up, but he takes it anyway, and something pleasant flutters in my chest. "Let's go back, I wouldn't want to make you late."

He nods. "And listen...if you ever want to talk about your stuff, I...I can't promise I'll be...but...yeah." He nods again.

"Thank you," I whisper.

Together, we walk back in the direction of the main building, and when I see the white bandages sticking out from underneath his sleeve, everything comes rushing back — Ren's middle-school classmates, the screams, the crowd, and my chest starts to ache again. But this time, the pain isn't as pronounced. It's been smoothed over, lightened, by something like hope.

I helped him feel better, isn't that what he said?

Does that mean, that if I tried hard enough, even I could be there for him? For all of them?

Is it okay, to let myself hope?

When we arrive at the classroom, Ren stops outside and shoves his hands back into his pockets. I look up. "You should hold on to that cheeky grin of yours, you look really fucking weird without it," he grumbles with a sidelong glance, and throwing the door open, stomps inside.

I laugh. Jerkass.

END OF CHAPTER