The midterm exams were fast approaching, casting an oppressive shadow over the bustling corridors of Kōyō High School. The pressure to perform well had led me to retreat into the fortress of my textbooks and study guides. My grades had taken a hit recently, and the only way I saw to fix that was to immerse myself entirely in my studies.
With the Sanja Festival right around the corner, the school was abuzz with excitement and preparations. Lanterns were hung, booths were set up, and the vibrant atmosphere contrasted sharply with the solitary focus of my study sessions. The festival, which had always been a highlight of the year, now felt like an unwelcome distraction. I avoided the festivities, choosing instead to bury myself in a sea of notes and practice problems in the library.
It wasn't just the festival that I was avoiding. My avoidance of Isamu had become increasingly noticeable. Our interactions had dwindled to almost nothing. Whenever I saw him approaching, I'd quickly divert my path, or if we crossed paths in the hallway, I'd bury my head in my phone or a book. The weight of unresolved feelings and the need for academic redemption drove me to shut him out completely.
One rainy afternoon, as I sat in my usual spot in the library, surrounded by stacks of textbooks, I saw Isamu enter. His usually confident stride was replaced by a more hesitant gait as he scanned the room. My heart sank as he made his way toward me.
"Taichi," Isamu called softly, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty.
I kept my head down, pretending to be absorbed in a particularly challenging problem set. "Not now, Isamu. I'm really swamped with study material."
Isamu paused at the edge of my table, clearly hurt by my brusque response. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. You've been avoiding me, and I wanted to make sure everything's okay."
I felt a pang of guilt but remained firm in my resolve. "I've got a lot on my plate right now. The exams are coming up, and I need to focus. I can't afford distractions."
Isamu looked taken aback but nodded, the disappointment evident in his eyes. "Alright. I understand. I'll give you space."
As he walked away, I felt a mix of relief and regret. Ignoring him was necessary for me to focus, or so I told myself. But every time I saw his retreating figure, the sense of loss and the ache of my unspoken feelings made it harder to maintain the façade of academic single-mindedness.
The Sanja Festival continued its preparations, becoming more vibrant and alive with each passing day. I could hear the sounds of laughter and the distant strains of music from the festival grounds, but I chose to stay holed up in the library or my room, driven by the fear of falling further behind in my studies.
Hiroto, too, noticed my withdrawal. One day, he approached me at the book store, carrying a stack of papers and a concerned expression. "Hey, Taichi," he said, setting his things down next to me. "I see you've been working hard, but you've missed a lot of the festival stuff. And you've been pushing everyone away, including Isamu. What's going on?"
I glanced up, momentarily taken aback by Hiroto's directness. "I'm just trying to catch up. My grades are slipping, and I need to make up for it."
Hiroto's eyes softened with understanding. "I get that. But there's a balance to be found. Ignoring everyone around you won't help if it means losing touch with what makes life enjoyable. You can't just shut everything else out."
I sighed, feeling the weight of Hiroto's words. "I know. It's just hard. I thought that if I could just focus on my studies, everything else would fall into place."
Hiroto shook his head gently. "It doesn't work like that. You have to find a way to balance your responsibilities and your relationships. If you keep pushing people away, you'll end up isolated and unhappy, even if your grades improve."
