It was a strange feeling to see the world through the same eyes, yet as if their lens had shifted. I was on my way to the club, but my mind lingered on the scene from yesterday: "Sakura Yamada" slipping away from her friends as if she wore an invisible cloak of responsibility.
Why didn't she stay with them? It was their scheduled time for friendship. Why break it?
I found no answer.
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Scene 1: With Her Friends (Sakura's Perspective)
The laughter of "Mizuki " and "Ayano" filled the air, yet "Sakura" felt as though she stood behind a thin glass barrier. She gripped her worn bag tightly, every fiber of her body attentive to the weight of time.
"Mizuki" (gently tugging her arm): "Sakura-chan, look at this new mascara! It would suit you perfectly!"
"Sakura "(glancing at her simple wristwatch—a gift from her father on her 14th birthday—tightening her grip on the bag): "It's lovely… but I have to go. Mom needs help at the shop before it gets busy."
"Ayano " (smiling lightly, teasing): "huh! You work like an adult already! Enjoy being a teenager for once; the world won't collapse!"
Sakura forced a quick smile. She felt exhausted. "They don't understand. Their world of makeup and outings won't collapse. But ours… ours is built on dishes being washed on time and bills being paid before their deadlines."
She bowed slightly in a quick farewell and left.
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Scene 2: At the Yamada Household (Sakura's Perspective)
The smell of home was familiar: a mix of old wood, simple food, and heavy responsibility. The moment she slipped off her shoes at the door, a wave of sounds hit her.
Younger sister, Toyo: "Onee-chan! Look at the drawing I made!"
Mother (from the kitchen, voice tired but firm): "Sakura, thank goodness you're here. Lunch dishes are still in the sink. And afterward, can you help "Toyo" with her reading?"
Sakura paused for a moment, leaning against the quiet wall. What a miserable life… she whispered, letting the sigh escape like steam from a pot. Then, as always, she shook off the weight and put on her responsible-daughter persona.
"Yes, Mom. I'll take care of it now," she said loudly and clearly, hiding her fatigue.
An hour later, in the quiet of her small room, she pulled out her phone. Two messages: one from Mizuki with a picture of a new restaurant, and another from Ayano asking about a literature assignment. She stared at the screen. The distance between her world and theirs was more than miles. She typed a single response to both: "Sorry, busy with family today. Next time!" and set the phone aside.
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Scene 3: At the Dojo
In my usual spot—the karate dojo—the scent of wood and rubber filled the air. Here, the rules were clear, and results were immediate. I was practicing a kata when Takieshi-san, one of the advanced black belts, approached.
"Takahashi, let's have a friendly match. I want to test your focus," he said.
I didn't refuse. In the dojo, focus was everything. He was stronger physically, but my movements were sharper, driven by some inner unrest. At the right moment, I used his momentum, grabbed his arm, turned my back, and gently but firmly threw him to the ground. It was a clean ippon.
The victory itself didn't surprise me.
From the corner of the dojo, a sharp, enthusiastic applause rang out. A small child, no older than six, wearing an oversized gi with a double-wrapped yellow belt, jumped in place.
"Wow! Did you see that? I want to do that someday!" he exclaimed.
I ignored Takieshi-san and knelt to his level. "Practice is key. And you've started well," I said, pointing to his yellow belt.
Coach Kobayashi approached, smiling. "Ah, this is " mino Ito ". His older sister brings him sometimes. He's been a big fan since the last time he saw you."
The family name hit my brain like a bell. Ito…? The family that lives next to our building?
"Exactly," the coach smiled. "A very nice family."
I left the dojo feeling a strange mix of clarity and confusion. Suddenly, that small source of energy, Kaito, walked beside me.
"Are you heading home too? Our building is close!" he said innocently.
"Yes," I replied briefly.
He fired question after question about karate, school, and how I became strong. I gave short answers, yet he absorbed them eagerly.
At the crossroads, in front of my building, he stopped.
"Hiroshi-san!" he called seriously. "Good luck on your black belt test in two days! You'll get it, I'm sure!"
Looking into his glowing eyes, pure admiration shining through, I felt a small corner of my lips lift.
"Thanks, Kaito-kun. Keep practicing," I said.
I entered the building, but paused at the doorway. I saw him run smiling into the neighboring building. Ito… the neighbors, I whispered without thinking.
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Scene 4: The Next Day at School
The atmosphere felt different. I sat in my usual last-row seat, but I wasn't watching anything. I was observing.
Sakura sat in her usual spot, reading her literature book, but her eyes seemed distant. A halo of fatigue—or perhaps slight sadness—surrounded her.
Suddenly, all the images from the previous day flooded my mind: her exhaustion, her responsibilities, the pure smile of Kaito, his words: "I want to be strong like you."
My inner monologue flared:
Yes. I am strong. I didn't run away. I built myself with my own hands. I have discipline. I have willpower. Why should I fear a word? Why fear her?
She is strong too, in her own way. Perhaps… we can understand each other. Maybe one word will be enough…
The recess bell rang. She began gathering her things.
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Scene 5: Perspective of Sakura
It had been a heavy day, like carrying a stone. Her mother's aching fingers from cleaning, her younger sisters' shouting, the pile of cold dishes in the sink… even the literature book that had been her refuge couldn't pierce the fog of exhaustion.
She looked up at a cloud outside the window. How miserable life felt…
Then she froze. There, in front of her desk, was a shadow. Not just any shadow.
It was Takahashi-kun. The quiet student who usually sat at the back and whom she occasionally noticed staring at her with a neutral expression. He stood straight, as if reporting in. But his eyes… were not neutral today. There was something resolute in them.
He did not avert his gaze. He looked directly at her. And that was the strangest thing in her otherwise ordinary morning.
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Scene 6: My Perspective (Hiroshi)
I stood. Step by step, the familiar floor beneath me, yet the air charged with a strange electricity. I saw her lift her head and catch her breath. Our brown eyes met. I saw her fatigue. I saw her surprise.
I stopped in front of her desk. The sound of my heartbeat was louder than any noise in the classroom.
I opened my mouth. The words came out clearer and firmer than I expected:
"Sakura-san… may I talk to you for a moment?"
The silence that followed was not ordinary....