Episode Four: Cracks Beneath the Surface
The shift didn’t happen all at once.
It began like hairline fractures in glass—almost invisible, but spreading slowly, inevitably.
Nazumi still met Jiro at the garden bench. Still laughed when he muttered something dry and unexpected. Still waited at the school gate like always.
But now, her laughter felt half a beat off. Her glances were shorter. And the silence between them wasn’t soft anymore—it was tense.
And Marina noticed.
So she pushed harder.
It started with the notebook.
A week after art class, Jiro returned from the library to find his desk drawer slightly ajar. Inside, tucked between his textbooks, was a slim, cream-colored notebook he didn’t recognize.
Confused, he flipped it open.
The first page read, “For Jiro-kun. I hope you’ll find someone who understands your mind the way I wish I could.”
It wasn’t signed. But the handwriting was delicate, the kind that curled just slightly at the edges. The kind that belonged to someone who wanted it to look casual… but made sure every line was perfect.
Jiro stared at it, unsettled.
He didn't say anything to anyone. Not even to Nazumi.
He didn’t notice Marina watching from across the classroom, eyes glinting with satisfaction.
Later that day, Nazumi heard the whispers again—louder now, unashamed.
“They say Marina wrote him a letter.”
“She’s had a crush on him forever, right?”
“Poor Nazumi… she never really stood a chance.”
Nazumi tried to pretend it didn’t matter.
But it did.
Because now, when she saw Jiro looking at his notebook during break, her stomach twisted. And when he didn’t immediately wave back across the courtyard, her mind filled in gaps he hadn’t made.
Jealousy wasn’t her nature.
But uncertainty? That could grow in anyone.
The final spark came on a rainy Wednesday.
They had stayed behind to clean up after club. The rain was heavy, drumming against the windows like restless fingers. Jiro offered to walk her home under his umbrella, like he always did.
But just as they stepped outside, Marina appeared—no umbrella, no jacket, just standing under the overhang, soaked and shivering.
“Oh no…” she said, voice trembling just enough. “I forgot my umbrella. I thought the rain would stop…”
Jiro hesitated. It was just a second—but it was long enough.
Nazumi saw it.
He turned to her. “I can walk her—just to the gate. I’ll catch up.”
Nazumi’s smile didn’t even try to form.
“No,” she said quickly. “You don’t need to.”
Jiro blinked. “Nazumi—”
But she was already walking ahead. Into the rain. Without looking back.
That night, she didn’t message him.
And the next morning, she wasn’t at the gate.
Something had changed.
Nazumi hadn't meant to fall for him.
Not really.
She liked talking. He liked listen. She liked movement, brightness, loud stories. He liked silence, quiet corners, the world behind his headphones.
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