My name is Yuto. I am a 17 year old boy, and in high-school, my parents hate eachother.
I have two siblings, Rika, and Ren. I am the eldest.
This is about my life.
The day started like any other. I went through the motions. showering, brushing my teeth, putting on my school uniform. It all felt mechanical, like I was on autopilot, just following the steps because I had to. The distant sound of my parents arguing downstairs barely registered anymore. Accusations of cheating, threats of divorce... what should I feel? I feel nothing. My siblings have already left for school, and as I walk past my mother in the hallway, she doesn't acknowledge me. My father doesn't either. It's like I don't exist to them. My hands are cold, like ice, and when I look in the mirror, my eyes reflect nothing but a hollow darkness. I'm living on autopilot, holding out some thin hope that maybe, one day, things will get better. So far, they haven't.
Outside, the winter air bites at my skin, each breath hanging in the air like a misty ghost. It's freezing. The festival is in ten days, but I've already decided I'm not going. I have no one to go with, and really, what's the point? Why go somewhere when you know you'll just feel more alone in a crowd?
As I walk, the crunch of snow beneath my shoes is the only sound that fills the quiet morning, but then I stop. My heart skips a beat. It's him... Daiki. Every time I see him, something stirs inside me. The world that's been gray and cold suddenly feels a little brighter, a little warmer, as if just his presence alone could melt away the frost that's settled over my life. My cheeks flush with a faint pink warmth, and I hate it. I hate how he makes me feel. It's like I'm drawn to him, but I can't figure out why. I catch up to walk beside him, trying to calm the nervous thrum in my chest. He's always so composed, so sure of himself, while I... I'm just me.
"Hey, Yuto. Good morning." His voice is soft, like velvet, wrapping around me in a way that both soothes and unsettles me. I glance away, unable to meet his gaze. He's everything I'm not confident, bright, whole and I can't stand how small I feel in his presence.
"H-Hello, Daiki," I mumble. My voice is barely a whisper, and I wonder if he even hears me. I hate this, hate how timid I get around him. What if I'm just an annoyance to him? What if he's only talking to me out of pity? My mind races with doubts, each one worse than the last.
"It's getting chilly, isn't it?" he says, his tone casual, though it feels like he's prying into something deeper. I nod, my words catching in my throat. I don't want to agree, don't want to say anything that might make me look weak, but it's the truth.
"Y-Yeah, it is," I stammer, my breath visible in the cold air. "Uhm... I'm surprised they didn't hand out the winter uniforms yet..." My words tumble out awkwardly, my gaze fixed on the ground. I can't bring myself to look at him.
And then, out of nowhere, I feel his hand on my shoulder. Warm, gentle, so unlike the cold world I live in. His touch is soft, like silk, and I feel my heart race. He leans in slightly, his voice full of quiet reassurance. "They always forget to hand them out. Don't worry," he says, and for a moment, it feels like he understands. Like he sees through me, past the empty eyes and the numbness, to the part of me that's desperately trying to hold on.
Meanwhile, we step inside the school together. The halls are alive with the usual buzz, filled with students getting ready for another day. Girls gather by their lockers, swapping out their shoes for the standard school loafers, their voices mixing in a flurry of gossip and giggles. They chat easily about their crushes, like it's the most natural thing in the world, while I just stand there, silent. I can't even imagine talking about the boy I like. I like him—not just as a friend, but as something more. But if my parents were to find out... would I just make things worse at home? Why do I even care about that? My thoughts swirl, my chest tightening with the weight of unspoken feelings.
