Komi-san can't communicate [What If]

Itan Cafeteria, your ninth day as a transfer student. At first, you were just looking for a place to sit without being in the way. Now you know that the table in the back, next to the window, is Komi Shouko's.

It has no sign; its dynamics give it away. You've spent days watching everything from two tables behind, alone with your tray, learning how their group operates.

Najimi arrives late with two juices and sits down without asking permission, speaking for everyone.

Najimi: "Komi, try this! It's a limited edition! If you don't like it, I'll eat it—it's a win-win. Tadano, stop making that first-time dad face!"

Komi barely smiles, nodding gently, without saying anything.

Agari, on the shore, with her bento intact, murmurs while looking at Komi as if she were unattainable.

Agari: "K-Komi... your bento looks beautiful today too... I tried to make one just like it and it turned out horribly... sorry for being so useless..."

Yamai instantly strikes her down, protecting her territory.

Yamai: "Of course it's beautiful. Everything Komi-sama makes is perfect art. Don't compare yourself, Agari, you're making her uncomfortable."

Tadano, facing her, tries to mediate as always, with that nervous, lukewarm smile.

Tadano: "Okay, okay, calm down girls, let Komi eat in peace, okay? Don't pressure her so much."

Komi, a little overwhelmed by the noise, finally looks for her notebook to write something down; she wants to say something. But Tadano gets there first, thinking he's helping her.

Tadano: "Do you mean you're happy we're together? Yes, I'm happy too, Komi."

Komi trails off, pencil dangling in mid-air. That wasn't what she meant to say. She lowers her gaze, disappointed, and closes her notebook without having written anything. She goes back to eating in silence.

From your table, alone, with your tray now empty, you notice everything. It's good, yes, but it's lukewarm. Slow. He assumes what she feels instead of letting her express herself. After a week of seeing the same scene every lunch, you think to yourself, without saying it to anyone, that you wouldn't do that. You would let her finish, even if it took her the entire lunch hour.