The ticking of the wall clock in this room felt like a hammer hitting my chest. Every second reminded me that I was in the wrong place, yet at the same time, I felt that this was the only place that truly accepted me for who I am—even if that "acceptance" felt cold and piercing.
"Welcome. Is there something we can help you with?" Kurokawa-san began as she saw me. Her voice was calm, but possessed a sharpness that made me feel like I was being stripped away layer by layer.
I stared at my own trembling hands in my lap. My school skirt felt tight—not because of the size, but because of the breath caught in my throat.
"Um... I heard this place can solve problems or something," my voice came out like a whisper, nearly swallowed by the warming spring air. "Please... please help me," I continued.
I bowed my head low. My fingers intertwined, squeezing each other until my knuckles turned white and my nails left red marks on the back of my hands. I felt as if my whole body was a cracked dam, and if I didn't hold on tighter, I would shatter right in front of them.
"I... I can't take it anymore," I whispered again. The warmth I usually carried everywhere—the cheerful smile that was my core identity in class—had vanished without a trace. All that remained was a terrified Minamikata Miwa. "Every day, I wake up and have to check my phone. Check if the mood in the LINE group is still okay. I have to laugh when they laugh, even when the joke isn't funny at all. I have to agree when they choose a place to eat that I don't actually like because it's too expensive or the food is too greasy. Even when they start mocking others..."
I paused for a moment, swallowing saliva that tasted as bitter as gall.
"Even when they mock others, I can only give a stiff smile. I give a little laugh to cover my own disgust because I'm afraid... I'm really afraid that if I don't join in, tomorrow I will be the one they mock. I'll be the shadow in the corner of the class."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nakamura-kun narrow his eyes. Those eyes that always looked weary and dead now seemed to be reading every layer of the fakery I wore. He probably already knew. He was the one who was always outside the circle, the one who saw everything from a distance without needing to be involved in this play.
"Ah, a very familiar pattern," he muttered.
His voice was flat, devoid of sympathy, yet strangely, it felt incredibly honest. "The classic structure of the people you call 'friends.' Behind the group photos that look close on Instagram, there's actually a very cruel caste system. Once you fail to read the mood—Kuuki wo yomu—you're seen as an anomaly. And anomalies must be removed for the system to keep running."
His words were like a scalpel dissecting my pain.
Kurokawa placed her book on the table with a soft but firm thud. The silence that followed was far more terrifying than my friends' mockery.
"So, you are one of those who worship the 'mood' above all else, Minami-san?" Kurokawa stared at me with her clear, unforgiving blue eyes. "You sacrifice your honesty for a seat at a table full of lies? You let yourself be pulled by the current because you're too afraid to swim alone?"
"But it's the only way I have a place!" I looked up, eyes welling with tears. My vision began to blur with the tears I'd bottled up for so long. "You don't understand how cold those school corridors are if you have no one to greet you. If I say 'no' just once, they'll look at me weirdly. The mood will turn freezing, and it'll be my fault. I want... I want to be able to speak honestly without making them hate me. I want to stay myself but not lose them. Help me, Kurokawa-san... Nakamura-kun..."
I called their names as if it were a prayer. However, the response I received felt like a slap of reality.
Nakamura-kun snorted, as if my request was the most ridiculous joke he'd heard all year.
"Your request is a contradiction, Minami-san. It's like asking me to eat ramen but not want to be full. The world doesn't work according to your soft little heart's desires."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice raspy.
"Listen," he leaned back into the old wooden chair, staring at the ceiling as if stringing words together from the darkness. "Society is built on a foundation of mutually agreed-upon lies. We all agree to lie so we can coexist without killing each other. You want to be honest but don't want to be hated? That's impossible. Honesty is like a sword; once you draw it, someone's going to get hurt. Either it's others offended by your truth, or it's yourself getting sliced by social isolation."
Kurokawa glanced at Nakamura-kun briefly. There was a flash of understanding between them that made me feel even smaller. These two... they were so different from me. They had long since stopped caring what the world thought of them.
"Nakamura-san is right about one thing," Kurokawa said. "Your desire to please everyone is a form of greed, Minami-san. You want to maintain your position as the 'nice popular girl' while also wanting to dump your mental burden for free. That is a cowardly stance that is highly inefficient. You are looking for a shortcut to a peace that never existed."
My shoulders shook slightly. Every word coming out of Kurokawa's mouth felt like a pure bullet with no artificial sweetener. It hurt. It really hurt. But at the same time, a part of me felt relieved because finally, someone was saying I was a coward. All this time, I could only say it to myself in the steamy bathroom mirror.
"Then... what should I do?" I asked in desperation. "Do I have to keep wearing this mask until I forget who Minamikata Miwa really is? Do I have to laugh until my jaw is stiff and my heart is dead?"
Kurokawa stood up from her chair. She walked toward the large window showing the twilight sky. The reddish-orange sunlight touched the silhouette of her body—straight, rigid, yet looking incredibly solid—like a tower refusing to crumble even when struck by storms repeatedly.
"This room is not a place for miracles, Minami-san. We are not wizards," she said without turning around. "We only provide help so you can help yourself. If you want to speak honestly, then you must be prepared to lose everything. You must be prepared to stand in the middle of the corridor without a single person turning to look at you. That is the price of an identity. The price of being 'someone' is to stop being 'anyone'."
Kurokawa turned slightly toward Nakamura-kun. I saw a faint smile on her lips—a smile that held no warmth, but rather a challenge.
"Nakamura-san, you are an expert in being ostracized and hated. You've lived for years in a social exile you chose for yourself. Isn't this the right task for you? Give her a crash course on how to be 'trash of society' who can still stand tall without needing anyone's validation."
"Oi, who are you calling trash?!" Nakamura-kun protested, though his face remained flat and indifferent. "But... fine. If you really want to try breathing actual air, Minami."
He stared at me intensely. His gaze made me want to hide, but I forced myself to stare back.
"Tomorrow during break, don't go to the cafeteria with your group. Don't follow them to that middle table full of fake laughter. Take your lunch, walk outside, and sit on a garden bench alone. Eat there, in silence."
I was wide-eyed. "Eh? But... they'll ask why! Madoka will think I'm mad at her! Haruna-san will think I'm hiding something! They'll send me thousands of messages!"
"Let them," Nakamura-kun answered in a tone so cold it made me shiver. "That is the first step to breaking the 'mood' that has been shackling you. You have to learn that the world won't end just because you don't eat lunch with them. If you don't dare to refuse a simple lunch invitation, you'll never have the courage to speak honestly about the bigger things in your life. You'll keep being a puppet until your strings snap on their own."
I was silent. My chest felt tight imagining tomorrow. Imagining Madoka's sharp gaze, or the whispers behind my back as I walked to the garden alone. That was my greatest fear—becoming an anomaly.
But then, I looked at the two of them again. Kurokawa, famously solitary yet dignified, and Nakamura-kun, alienated yet seemingly so free from the burden of the "mood." They didn't wear masks. They didn't need to check their phones every five minutes to confirm their social standing.
Maybe... maybe that's what real living is.
"I... I'll try it," I whispered, though my voice was still trembling. "I'll try to be selfish, even if it's just for one lunch."
Nakamura-kun just let out a long sigh, as if he were predicting a coming disaster. Kurokawa sat back down and opened her book, signaling that today's audience was over.
As I walked out of the room, the evening wind hit my face. Tomorrow, a small drama would unfold under the cherry blossom tree in the school garden. I didn't know if I would survive, or if I would run back to their lunch table crying and apologizing.
But for now, for the first time in a long time, I felt my mask crack a little. And behind that crack, fresh air was starting to enter my lungs.