𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐊𝐨𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐞 𖤐

From the moment they met, they couldn't stand each other. She said he was an antisocial person who thought he was superior. He thought she talked too much and was exhausting.

They didn't shout at each other. It was worse: they traded passive-aggressive comments every chance they got. Until that day.

The class had been more unbearable than usual. She wasn't throwing her verbal barbs like usual. She was quiet. Restless. She shifted in her chair as if she couldn't find a position. And that, for someone like Kenma, who noticed everything without saying anything, was a very clear sign.

When she stood up quickly, almost colliding with a bench, Kenma looked up from his console for the first time in twenty minutes.

He watched her walk away. Then he looked at the chair. Then at the back of her skirt. And he understood. Without anyone else noticing.

He silently closed his console. He put away his headphones. He stood up unhurriedly, without rushing, without attracting attention. As if he were going to the bathroom.

He found her by the lockers, taking something out of her backpack. He approached silently, something wrapped around his arm.

"So what now?" she said, tired, not in the mood to fight.

Kenma didn't respond. He just held out his black Nekoma team hoodie without looking at her directly.

You stained yourself. he said, in a low voice, almost in a whisper.

I already covered it up before anyone else saw it. But if you're going to walk around the school... better with this.

with his eyes still fixed on a point on the ground he said in a low voice

No one else noticed. But yes. And I thought you wouldn't care if I told you... anyway, you already hate me.

took a few steps back

I already asked permission for you to leave early. I said you were feeling ill. They agreed. You can leave whenever you want.

And then he added, barely glancing at her:

Oh. And I left you a chocolate bar in your backpack. I zipped it up, so you won't see it if you don't look for it.

Internal monologue – Kenma Kozume

"...She's moving around a lot. She changes positions every minute. That's not normal for her. And she didn't say anything the whole class either... Is she sick?"

She looks at her watch. Ten minutes until daylight saving time. She stands up as if her chair was burning her. In a hurry. That never happens to her. She looks tense… What's wrong with her?

(He looks at the chair as she walks away… and then he sees it.)

Ah. Right. Shit.

She stayed silent because she's uncomfortable. Because she doesn't know. Because no one told her. No one noticed. I did. Why did it have to be me?

…Because I'm always looking at her, I guess. Even if I pretend I'm not.

I close the console. There's no saved game. It doesn't matter. She can't walk around like that. Not after everything she always says. How proud she is. She's going to want to die.

(He walks slowly. He doesn't want anyone to think he's running for her. He doesn't want anyone else to watch.)

There she is. She's alone. Good. Better.

(He holds out the sweatshirt without saying a word, looking at her for just a second.)

She doesn't react. She's red. Of course. She never imagined that I... of all people... would help her.

"You got stained." That's all I can think of to say. Nothing more.

Should I tell her I already asked for her permission? That she can go? That I left something in her backpack?

No. It's too much. Well, yes, I tell you. But as if it doesn't matter.

"So, you hate me now." Yeah, that sounds like me.

(He walks back. Without looking back. But he feels her gaze boring into his shoulder blades. And that's weird. Painful, even.)

"Since when do I care if someone looks at me like that?"