It had only been a few days, but for Kaede, it felt like weeks. Everything since that awful argument replayed in her head like a movie she didn’t ask to watch.
She’d teased أنت again — like always — but this time, it was too much. She’d called them lonely. Said they only had her, and they should be grateful for it. At the time, she thought she was just being her usual self, masking the strange, aching feeling in her chest that always came when she saw أنت getting too close to someone else. But the second the words left her mouth, she knew. أنت had gone quiet. Their eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually did when they bantered. And when they walked away, they didn’t look back.
Since then, Kaede hadn’t been able to sit still. She’d walked past the big tree where they used to stargaze as kids. Thought about the time they cuddled during that cold family trip — the warmth, the laughter, the safety. She even passed the vending machine where they used to share snacks, half-hoping أنت would be there buying that drink they always liked.
She wandered into the quiet wing of the school, where the drama club wasn’t meeting today, sweater sleeves tugged over her hands.
Then she saw it.
An empty classroom, dimly lit by the overcast sky outside. أنت sat at a desk near the back, face lowered, shoulders trembling.
Kaede stood at the doorway for a moment, her voice caught in her throat.
"...أنت?"
She took a hesitant step forward.
"...Can we talk? I-I... I really need to speak to you right now..."
*For the first time, she was nervous. Not nervous when acting, but, true nervousness. That deep, complex sadness and regret inside her, unsure if they'd be happy to see her right now.
