The Depth of Love

Chapter 4: Lingering Silhouettes

Kai stared out the window as the early morning light crept into his room. The steady rhythm of his daily routine felt familiar by now, though he still couldn’t quite call it comfortable.

His alarm had gone off at the usual time, but he didn’t feel rushed. It wasn’t that he looked forward to going to school—he didn’t—but rather, the routine was a buffer. A series of tasks that took his mind off the awkwardness he’d feel later in the classroom.

He made his way downstairs, skipping breakfast again. His nerves were back, a familiar tension in his chest. Kai hated that he still felt so out of place. He had his small group of friends, but none of them made the transition with him to this new school. Alone, he was just... another quiet face in the crowd.

Rina, meanwhile, was already out the door, a heavy sigh escaping her lips as she adjusted her uniform. She walked slowly, the school looming in her thoughts. Unlike Kai, she had no friends in her old school. And now, in this new setting, she’d resigned herself to the same lonely path.

She clutched her bag tightly, taking comfort in the familiar weight of her sketchbook inside. Drawing was the one thing that made her feel grounded. Every other aspect of school—socializing, participating, even just existing in the crowd—drained her.

The buzz in the classroom was unmistakable. Even before Ms. Takahashi entered, the students were already talking, some whispering excitedly, others laughing as they caught up on yesterday’s conversations. Kai slid into his seat near the back of the room, grateful for the noise that made it easier to disappear.

Rina sat at the far side of the room, perfectly blending into the background, a shadow among the students. Her eyes scanned her notebook, though her mind was far from the page. She could hear snippets of the conversation around her—students nominating themselves or others for the role of class president. It didn’t matter to her. Leadership roles were for those who wanted to be seen, to be heard. She wanted neither.

Ms. Takahashi finally walked in, clapping her hands lightly to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, class, we’ll start today by electing our class president. This is an important role, so I hope you all take this seriously.”

A few students whispered among themselves before one of the boys at the front—Haruto Watanabe—stood up. Haruto was the kind of student who carried himself with ease. His uniform was always perfectly ironed, his shoes spotless, and his smile bright. Kai knew of him, but only in the way you know someone popular from afar. Haruto wasn’t exactly extroverted, but he had an undeniable presence. When he spoke, people listened. When he smiled, people smiled back.

Haruto raised his hand, a modest grin on his face. “I’d like to nominate myself.”

A few students nodded, and Kai noticed a handful of girls whispering to each other, giggling. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Haruto was a shoo-in, and Kai had no problem with that. Someone like Haruto was the type to take charge while the rest of them coasted along. No pressure on him to stand out. He could blend in the way he wanted.

The voting was quick, and unsurprising—Haruto won by a large margin. Ms. Takahashi smiled, clearly pleased with the result. “Congratulations, Haruto. I’m sure you’ll lead the class well.”

Rina glanced up for a second, her disinterest clear. The whole process was irrelevant to her. She didn’t even bother casting her vote, knowing that no matter who was chosen, it wouldn’t affect her. Her life was one of quiet distance, and she intended to keep it that way.

With Haruto officially elected, Ms. Takahashi encouraged him to say a few words. Haruto stood again, his demeanor easygoing but thoughtful. “Thank you, everyone, for voting for me. I’ll do my best to make sure our class runs smoothly this year.”

After a pause, he added, “Actually, I have an idea. Since we’re all still getting to know each other, how about we do something small to break the ice? Maybe everyone could share something about themselves—just a fun fact or something casual.”

The suggestion was met with mixed reactions. Some students looked excited, eager to talk about themselves, while others—like Kai and Rina—shifted uncomfortably in their seats. For Rina, the thought of speaking about herself to a room full of people felt suffocating. She hadn’t prepared for this. She didn’t want to reveal anything. Even something as basic as her hobbies felt too personal.

One by one, the students began to share. Some talked about their favorite sports, their hobbies, or even their favorite food. Kai listened half-heartedly, feeling the weight of his turn approaching. When it was Rina’s time, she stood reluctantly, her eyes avoiding the rest of the class.

“Uh, I’m Rina,” she started, her voice quieter than she’d intended. “I like drawing… and badminton. That’s pretty much it.” She sat down quickly, not bothering to explain more.

Kai noticed the way her shoulders tensed, her fingers gripping the edges of her desk tightly. He understood the feeling—the need to escape the spotlight as quickly as possible. He’d felt it too many times to count.

When it was finally Kai’s turn, he stood with a sigh. “I’m Kai. I like watching movies and listening to music… and I play chess sometimes.” He paused, glancing at the floor before finishing. “That’s it.”

His introduction was short, almost clipped, but it matched the energy of the other quieter students. He sat down just as fast as Rina had, hoping to slip back into obscurity.

Ms. Takahashi, sensing the room’s discomfort, decided to switch gears. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten some introductions out of the way, let’s move on to something different. We’ll be starting group projects soon, so I’m going to go ahead and assign you into groups.”

Kai’s heart sank. Group work. He hated the idea of working with others, of being forced to talk more than necessary. It wasn’t that he couldn’t function in a team—it was more that he preferred working alone, where he could control the pace and avoid awkward social interactions.

Rina felt much the same. Her dread grew as Ms. Takahashi called out names, pairing students together. The last thing she wanted was to be in a group where she’d be expected to contribute ideas or—worse—talk to people she didn’t know.

Kai ended up in a group with Haruto and two other students who seemed eager to contribute. Rina, however, found herself paired with several extroverted classmates who immediately began chatting excitedly about how they’d divide up the work. She sat quietly, nodding occasionally, but offered little. Her goal was simple: do the bare minimum, avoid attention, and get through the project.

As the class came to a close and the students began to pack up their things, Kai noticed Rina out of the corner of his eye. She was gathering her books, her face blank, but her body language spoke volumes. She was tired—tired of the noise, the conversation, and the general chaos of the classroom.

Kai understood that feeling well. He didn’t intend to say anything to her, but as he stood to leave, their eyes met—just for a moment. It wasn’t a particularly meaningful glance, but there was something about the way her eyes quickly darted away that stayed with him.

Rina, too, felt the awkwardness of the moment, though she quickly brushed it off. She had no reason to interact with Kai—or anyone else for that matter. She was here to study, to pass, and to leave.

As the bell rang and the students began to pack their things, Kai stole another glance at Rina. She moved quickly, slipping her notebook into her bag with mechanical precision, her face as expressionless as ever. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if they were more alike than they seemed—both navigating the classroom like strangers in a crowd. His thoughts lingered on her, a quiet curiosity forming at the back of his mind.

Rina, however, remained in her own world. She felt the familiar weight of isolation pressing against her chest as she weaved through the bustling classroom, unnoticed. The brief eye contact she’d shared with Kai didn’t stick—he was just another face in the sea of people she preferred to avoid.

As Kai watched her disappear out the door, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about her intrigued him, though he wasn’t sure what. But for now, it was enough to let the moment slip away. They were strangers, after all, and maybe it was better that way—at least for now.