Chapter Text
MY LIFE HAD BEEN unremarkable, a string of ordinary days. People often called me boring, and I never felt close enough to anyone to challenge that perception. There was one person in particular who never seemed to notice me, despite our shared space. Their whispers about me were always behind my back, a constant reminder of my perceived lack of interest. But it didn't really bother me. I couldn't change their opinions, and I wasn't sure why I should even try.
Every day blurred into the next, a monotonous cycle. My sister, different from me in every way, was adored by everyone. Students and teachers alike fell under her spell, but I saw through the facade of her smile. It didn't matter anymore, though. Despite the resentment I harbored towards her since the day she entered our lives, she was my sister. My parents, too, had succumbed to her charm, showering her with affection. I couldn't fathom their fascination; what was so extraordinary about her?
With a captivating smile that drew everyone's attention, she stood as the beloved daughter. Yet, hidden beneath that facade was a secret that gnawed at her heart. As the adopted child, i questioned her worth and her place within the family. Years passed, and the disparity in treatment became an unbearable weight for me. I shed tears of anguish, wondering why i was so different, why i was less deserving of love and affection. But as time washed over me, a realization dawned. It didn't matter anymore. I've come to accept that my sister held a special place in their hearts, one that could not be diminished by material possessions or superficial status.
She could take everything from me, even my family. I wouldn't stop her. It doesn't matter to me anymore.
Initially, I believed she could shatter my world. But that was before I encountered the one who captivated my heart. He graced my classroom with his presence, a faint smile adorning his face. His countenance became a constant in my day, and even in his absence, my gaze instinctively searched for him. His radiance ignited a warmth within me, a sensation I had never experienced and found myself embracing.
‘What is his name?’i wonder.
If i could remember—amidst the exertion of P.E. class, my breath grew shallow and my vision blurred, threatening to engulf me in darkness. Suddenly, amidst the haze, a voice cut through the chaos like a lifeline. Calling out my name, it stirred something within me.
Though I had never uttered a word to him, i had recognized his voice. His words, like a soothing balm, steadied my pounding heart. It was then that he extended a helping hand, offering me a bottle of water—a simple gesture that became a priceless keepsake. Its significance transcended its practicality; it was an unexpected gift, a token of kindness that I would cherish forever.
Within a short time, I found myself drawn to him. His presence in the library on Mondays became an unwavering part of my routine. Despite his demanding schedule, being a part of the student council only on Wednesdays and Fridays, I couldn't help but admire his unwavering focus and determination. His demeanor exuded a sense of tranquility that captivated my attention, and I couldn't resist the urge to gaze upon him.
As previously mentioned, my lack of close relationships prevented me from seeking assistance in obtaining his name. Despite my discomfort at witnessing him with another, my frustration grew.
Several days later, I acquired a new camera from a shopping center. While photography does not generally interest me, it became necessary for an academic assignment that required identifying a rare flower. As I ventured outside the school grounds, I encountered him once again.
A wave of heat surged through me, leaving me breathless and confused. It was overwhelming, yet strangely alluring. He was across the way, immersed in his book, earphones blocking out the world. His white hair, a halo against the sunlight, brushed his long lashes, framing a face lost in concentration. That calmness, that focus—it was what drew me to him. I gripped my camera, my fingers trembling slightly. Slowly, I raised it, framing him in the viewfinder. The click of the shutter was almost inaudible, the flash barely a flicker. He didn't react, his gaze fixed on the pages. Relief washed over me, a counterpoint to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within.
He looked perfect.
Throughout my school years, I regularly encountered him engrossed in his studies behind the school building, never ceasing his pursuit of knowledge. His dedication and focus were unwavering, although I often observed him in solitude. He had friends of his own, but I lacked the boldness to approach him. Our last brief interaction, when I collapsed and he helped me. But, he never acknowledged me beyond that single instance. His name remains unknown to me, leaving me hesitant to initiate a conversation. The thought of approaching him fills me with trepidation, as I fear he may perceive me as creep or unsettling.
Secretly, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. Though we weren't classmates, his classroom was right next to mine. Every chance I got, I'd make a trip to the bathroom, knowing it meant passing by his door. My gaze would always linger on him, but he was oblivious. The sound of his quiet voice, his laughter, even his casual conversations with friends, sent my heart racing.
Over the course of several months, I gradually discovered his name: Gojo Satoru. It seemed to fit him perfectly. An inexplicable urge surged within me to address him by his first name, to witness him turn his head in my direction. However, my body seemed to resist, holding me back. Despite my inability to utter his name, I had gained a glimmer of insight into his character. He exhibited an aversion to spicy cuisine and an unyielding determination that belied his serious demeanor. He possessed an affinity for literature, his face perpetually etched with an air of deep contemplation. I was certain that he had stolen the hearts of countless girls within the academy.
Satoru seems like a quiet, introverted guy. He hangs out with his three friends, who are all more outgoing, but he keeps to himself. It's clear he's not interested in the women who constantly try to talk to him; they're too loud and clingy for his taste. I can't help but feel a bit drawn to him. He seems so different from everyone else, and I'd love to get to know him better. Maybe someday I'll have the chance to talk to him.
————4:42 PM————
The classroom was empty, my classmates long gone. I lingered behind, a familiar routine playing out. My teacher, noticing my presence.
“(____)? Why are you still here?”she asked.
“Just need to finish something later” I explained, already knowing her response. She handed me the keys, reminding me to lock up before 5 pm. A reassuring smile accompanied her departure. Satoru, busy with student council duties, would likely be leaving around the same time.
The weight of time felt heavy. Months had passed, yet my resolve remained steadfast. Perhaps a glimpse of him, from a distance, would offer a sliver of solace. This day had been particularly trying, and the mere sight of him, even unseen, would be a balm to my weary soul.
As I waited at my table, my fingers danced across the keys, a quiet melody accompanying the slow tick of the clock, inching towards 5 pm.
The faint sound of his footsteps drew closer, and I purposely swung open the classroom door, anticipating him to simply walk by. My breath caught as he briefly met my gaze, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, before continuing on his path. My heart hammered against my ribs. He had looked at me. Really looked at me. He must have wondered why the door was open, my mind raced.
I waited a few moments, straining to hear him descend the stairs. Once his footsteps faded, I snatched up my backpack, crept out the door, and locked it behind me.
Habit held me back as I trailed behind him, maintaining a safe distance. My mind, lost in my own world, hadn't even registered that I was following him until we reached the corner. The sight of him turning to his house, greeted by a young child, startled me. It must be his sister. I watched as the door closed behind them, my cheeks burning. It was a strange comfort knowing he lived so close, almost a neighbor.
——————
“What took you so long..?! Dad won't stop calling m— hey!”
The door clicked shut behind me, shutting out the sound of my sister's escalating voice. My name, sharp and insistent, echoed through the hallway. I didn't flinch, her anger washing over me like distant waves. My bag settled onto the study table with a soft thud, and I pulled out my camera, the familiar weight grounding me. A scroll through the photos brought me to Satoru's face, and a smile, gentle and private, touched my lips.
To safeguard my cameras memory, I diligently copied the photos before potential camera loss or damage. I utilized my printer to materialize my cherished images, which adorned my wall board. His captivating gaze upon the book in this particular angle made me contemplate the possibility of capturing fresh shots. But, discretion was paramount to avoid unwanted attention. His reaction remained an enigma, potentially harboring resentment if his privacy were compromised.
A gentle smile touched my lips as I traced my finger across the photos I'd taken. He was breathtaking, absolutely perfect. I couldn't tear my eyes away. The thought of capturing more of him tomorrow filled me with anticipation. I couldn't wait to see him again.
——————
Morning had dawned, and I sat at the breakfast table as usual. My mother busied herself preparing my father's breakfast. Silence hung heavy between us; the past had rendered conversation futile. I remained absorbed in my phone, a faint smile playing on my lips as my thoughts wandered to Satoru. I anticipated our encounter this morning with eagerness. A twinge of uncertainty crept in as I wondered if he might be busy, robbing me of the chance to capture another image of him.
As I finished breakfast, my father emerged from the master bedroom and strode purposefully toward the kitchen, settling into his usual seat at the table.
A moment of silence passed before I noticed my sister's conspicuous absence. A familiar sense of exasperation washed over me as I mentally prepared for yet another late arrival. Despite my father's frequent lamentations about her tardiness, my mother continued to defend her, asserting that it was an unalterable aspect of her personality.
My father's question about my sister cut me off before I could even speak. I loathe her, and the very act of inquiring about her whereabouts fills me with disgust.
“She's already at school. Someone picked her up earlier” Mom answers.
(Someone had picked her up?)
My eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. Although she had acquaintances, the use of 'someone' implied a singular individual. But this didn't concern me, so I dismissed it.
——————
As fate would have it, another round of whispers reached my ears. Settling into my seat, I placed my bag beside me, my limbs trembling slightly as a cold sensation brushed my knees. I bent down, discovering a pile of crumpled, water-soaked papers beneath my table. A heavy sigh escaped me, yet I maintained an outward calm. This was a recurring torment, a situation I had grown accustomed to, choosing indifference over acknowledgment.
As the interminable hours ticked by until the welcome respite of lunch break, I eagerly retrieved my camera from my bag. A faint smile played upon my lips as thoughts of him filled my mind once more. With light steps, I made my way to the verdant expanse of the school garden. But as I scanned my surroundings, a sense of disappointment washed over me upon failing to catch even a glimpse of Satoru. Undeterred, I resolved to search diligently for him, confident that he must be concealed nearby. And—
(Huh)
As his laughter reached my ears, I couldn't help but notice its contagious nature. It was as if the sound itself fostered an aura of joy. Intrigued, I approached him, eager to share in the merriment. However, as I drew closer, a sense of unease washed over me. To my astonishment, I realized he had been engaged in conversation with a woman the entire time. Though her appearance seemed vaguely familiar, I couldn't quite place her. But then, as a melodious laugh escaped her lips, it all became crystal clear: it was my own sister.
Pain surged through me, shattering my heart into a million pieces. I couldn't believe my eyes as I witnessed my sister conversing with the man I had longed to approach. Anguish coursed through me, fueled by the realization that she had once again taken what I held dear. She had already eclipsed me in every aspect, and now she was depriving me of my chance with the person I craved. Why did this have to happen? Why was she taking everything from me? Couldn't I have something that was truly mine? Couldn't I possess the love of someone I desired without it being stolen from me?
As my grip loosened, my camera slipped from my trembling fingers and crashed to the floor with a deafening thud. A gasp escaped my lips as my sister's head swiveled in my direction. My own head snapped up, my eyes catching the sight of Satoru's gaze turning towards me. A sense of dread washed over me as my heart pounded in my chest. Instinctively, I snatched up my camera and bolted away. My sister's voice echoed behind me, calling out my name, but I ignored her.
Blindly, I surged forward, my surroundings a blur. Tears streamed down my face, each hot drop a confirmation of the judging eyes I felt upon me. In my haste, I collided with someone, a growl escaping my lips before I even registered the impact. I tumbled backwards, landing hard on the floor, my camera clattering away from me.
My gaze darted towards Satoru's friends. Concern etched itself onto their faces, and a hand reached out to help me up. I grabbed my camera, a wave of shame washing over me, and fled. I had messed up, it was entirely my fault, and tears streamed down my face as I ran.
The thought of Satoru with anyone else was unbearable. He was the only one who made me feel truly seen, truly loved. My sister knew nothing about him, about us. Would he even consider her? The possibility, the thought of it, twisted in my gut. I couldn't bear the idea of sharing him, of seeing him with someone else. Tears flowed freely, a never—ending torrent of despair. My mother's indifference only added to the pain. It felt like I was invisible, forgotten, and now Satoru was slipping away, too. A crushing weight of hopelessness descended, leaving me feeling useless, unwanted. I stumbled out of bed, wiping away the tears, my heart aching. My camera, usually a source of joy, now mocked me. How could I capture memories, when the most important one, the one with Satoru, was slipping through my fingers? The thought of him with another woman, of capturing their happiness instead of ours, was too much to bear.
With trembling hands, I reached for my camera, only to discover that my precious files had vanished. My eyes widened in horror, confirming my worst fears. Though I had diligently made backups and copies of it, I couldn't shake the gnawing concern over the missing originals.
Suddenly, a piercing red light and incessant beeping from the camera jolted me. To my dismay, I realized the film was already gone. Panic surged through me as I recalled dropping the camera in the garden and before Satoru's friends. The thought of facing them at school tomorrow filled me with dread, uncertain of what consequences lay ahead.
——————
Though I tried to dismiss their scrutiny, their gazes pierced through my composure, leaving me uneasy. As I approached my table, I braced for something untoward, but all was still. My eyes widened as I cautiously peered beneath the table, only to be met with the sight of my missing film. Perplexed, I wondered how it had mysteriously made its way back to me. Had someone retrieved it and discreetly placed it here? If so, how did they know it belonged to me? With a cautious hand, I retrieved my film, tucking it safely within my bag, keen to avoid drawing undue attention. A wave of relief washed over me.
Though I'm still puzzled as to how my film went missing—