“What We Never Said”

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Nobita never thought much about the way Dekisugi smiled.

Not until that rainy Thursday afternoon in the school library.

It had started like every other day. He was late to school, scolded by Sensei, and Doraemon had refused to help with a last-minute gadget this time—“You need to grow up someday, Nobita.”

He sighed and wandered into the library, not really to read, but to sleep. The rain outside made everything feel slow and still. He dragged a chair to the far corner… only to find Dekisugi already there, lost in a book.

“Oh—sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Dekisugi looked up, a little startled. Then he smiled, that gentle, composed smile Nobita was used to seeing from afar. “No problem. You can sit here if you want. It’s quiet.”

Nobita hesitated. He usually avoided being around Dekisugi. Not because he disliked him, but because Dekisugi was everything he wasn’t—smart, athletic, respected… someone Shizuka liked.

He sat down anyway.

Minutes passed. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was… calm.

Then Dekisugi spoke without looking up. “You know, you’re better than you think.”

“Huh?”

Dekisugi turned a page. “In class… during group activities. You always think you’re messing up, but sometimes you have the most creative answers. You just get nervous.”

Nobita blinked. “You noticed that?”

“Of course. I notice a lot of things.”

A quiet hum filled the air as the rain tapped gently against the windows.

“Like what?” Nobita asked, heart oddly thumping.

Dekisugi finally looked at him directly. “Like how you look out the window during math, but your eyes don’t follow anything. Like you’re somewhere else.”

“Maybe I am,” Nobita said softly.

Dekisugi’s voice dropped too. “Where do you go, Nobita?”

The question caught him off guard. “I… I don’t know. Somewhere I’m not a failure. Somewhere I don’t ruin everything I touch.”

Dekisugi closed his book, something unreadable in his eyes. “You’re not a failure.”

Nobita scoffed, half-laughing. “You’re only saying that to be nice.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

Another silence. This time, charged. Real. Dekisugi leaned forward just slightly, voice lower now.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I see you.”

Nobita’s throat dried. “How… do you see me?”

Dekisugi hesitated. Then: “Brave. Kind. Honest. You care more than anyone else I know. You feel deeply. You try—even when everything’s stacked against you.”

Nobita’s eyes widened. He didn’t speak.

“And,” Dekisugi added, “You never stop hoping. Even when you say you have.”

The moment stretched between them like the space between stars—untouchable, infinite, and full of aching possibility.

“Dekisugi…” Nobita whispered, “Why are you telling me all this now?”

Dekisugi smiled again. This time, it wasn’t perfect. It trembled. “Because it’s our last year. Because you’ve always looked at me like I was on a pedestal, and I hate it. I just wanted you to know—I’ve been looking at you, too.”

Something in Nobita cracked open. For once, he didn’t feel small.

He didn’t feel like he was less.

He felt… seen.

The rain stopped.

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[End]

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