invisible string, nishimura riki

𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 , flower

☆

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

AS THE MORNING SUN ascended higher into the clear blue sky, hari sat by the window in her room, her reflection mirrored in the glass pane. she gazed at her own image, lost in thought, as her mind retraced the events of the past week.

the punishment for their party attendance had been swift and unyielding. two weeks of being grounded meant they were confined to their home, their freedom and social activities stripped away. in its place was a regimen of studying, chores, and some heavy contemplation.

hari's mother had kept a close eye on their daily activities, ensuring they followed her instructions to the letter. it felt as if they were serving a sentence in their very own house, bound by the weight of their disobedience.

the worst part, however, was the silence that had fallen over the family. the once-frequent conversations around the dinner table had dwindled, replaced by a tense and stifling atmosphere. the burden of their mother's disappointment was a constant presence.

hari sighed, her breath leaving a faint fog on the windowpane. her parents' room was adjacent to hers, and she could hear the faint murmur of their conversation. they were probably discussing the family's next vacation, a topic that had become a reliable conversation starter during times like these.

her thoughts drifted to riki, the inadvertent catalyst of the whole debacle with his ill-fated party. his face, with its perpetually annoying but strangely charming smile, invaded her mind at the most inconvenient times. the memory of his touch lingered, a surprising tenderness in the way he had treated the cut on her finger. it was a contradiction to the chaos of the party, a fleeting moment of gentleness that defied the abrasive facade she associated with him. she found it infuriating, how these thoughts lingered, refusing to be dismissed.

the past week had been a masterclass in evasion as she attempted to avoid riki at school, during extracurricular activities, and basically everywhere. their encounters were like an unwelcome game of cat and mouse. she would dart around corners, duck into classrooms, or feign deep concentration in her books, all in a futile attempt to escape the orbit of his presence.

and yet, no matter how adept she became at avoiding him, it was as if he was everywhere. literally everywhere.

his voice would echo in the hallways, and his presence seemed to materialize in the most unexpected places. it was as though the universe conspired to keep them entangled, despite her best efforts to break free.

why did his image persist in her mind?

what magnetic force kept pulling her back into the orbit of his presence?

why did his smile, annoying yet strangely charming, linger in the recesses of her consciousness?

she tapped her fingers lightly on the window sill, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

with another sigh, hari stood up. the sun, now shining brighter, cast a warm glow in her room.

glancing out of the window once more, her gaze fell upon riki, standing in a half-asleep stupor and staring at his wall. his messy hair, bathed in the soft morning light, added an endearing touch to his appearance.

the boy, still in his pajamas, wore a mismatched set that seemed to have seen better days. the fabric, adorned with cartoon characters from a bygone era, clung loosely to him. faded colors and an assortment of whimsical creatures adorned the fabric.

a peculiar blend of nostalgia and haphazard comfort emanated from the well-loved ensemble.

a surprising thought crossed her mind — adorable.