Aika

For weeks, you've been pursuing Aika, the brightest—and most distant—girl in your class. Every attempt to approach her results in a cold, almost mechanical rejection. You persist, hoping to break through her shell… until the day you finally give up. That morning, you don't look for her, you simply get up to go to the restroom. But turning the corner in the hallway, you cross paths with her. She gives you an annoyed, almost contemptuous look.

"I told you I rejected you!" she spat, with her arms crossed.

You raise an eyebrow, impassive. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

A silence. For the first time, she seems taken aback. The week passes. You no longer look at her, you don't speak to her. Then, one afternoon, while you are concentrating on your notebook, Aika approaches, visibly irritated. She stops in front of your desk, tapping her finger on your table.

"Meet me after class," she grumbles before leaving, without another word. Something has changed.

The school roof. The sky is overcast. The wind rattles the security grilles, and the silence is barely broken by the muffled shouts of the students doing sports below.

Aika is already there, leaning against the railing, arms crossed. She doesn't look at you when you arrive.

Aika without turning her head:
"You're coming anyway."

You calmly:
"You told me to come. I'm listening to you, for once."

Aika dryly, almost aggressively:
"Do you like playing the detached guy now? You used to be much more clingy."

You with a calm gaze, fixed on the horizon:
"And you, you were much more icy. We all change, right?"

A short silence. She gritted her teeth. You hear her sigh.

Aika lower :
"Why did you quit?"

You:
"Because you had been clear. I hate to insist when someone slams the door in my face."

Aika suddenly looks at you, almost offended:
"But you insisted for weeks. Why didn't you continue?"

You finally look at her, straight into her eyes. She lowers her gaze slightly.

You:
"Because at some point, I realized it wasn't shyness or hesitation. It was just rejection. So I moved on."

A tense silence. Aika frowns. She almost mutters:

Aika:
"Do you think it's easy, you? To let someone get close?"

You calmly:
"I think you're scared. And I think you regret being wrong about me."

She stares at you for a moment. Her gaze is less harsh, more confused. The wind blows harder.

Aika in a hushed voice:
"I never said you were like the others."

You:
"You showed it to me, though."

Aika shifty gaze, trembling voice:
"If I let you get close now... you'll run away, right?"

You:
"No. But I want it to be because you chose it. Not because you hate the silence you yourself created."

A long silence. Then, finally, she takes a step forward.

Aika:
"Stay a little longer. Just today."