The atmosphere in the art studio had shifted, the colors around us now muted by an unspoken tension. I tried to focus on my painting, but each stroke felt heavier, like the weight of Isamu's secrets was pressing down on me.
"Why can't you just let it go?" Isamu finally snapped, his voice slicing through the silence. He was pacing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, frustration radiating off him like heat from a flame. "Why do you always have to pry into my life?"
I set my brush down, heart pounding. "I'm trying to help you, Isamu! It's not like you're being honest with me."
"Maybe I don't want to be honest!" he shot back, his eyes blazing. "It's my life. You've never asked me this many questions about your own life, so why should I have to explain mine to you?"
I felt a sting at his words, the truth of them resonating painfully. "Because I care about you! I don't want to see you get hurt or dragged into something dangerous."
"Dangerous?" he echoed, incredulous. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're just assuming things because you overheard some kids talking! It's not your business, Taichi."
I stepped closer, trying to bridge the gap between us. "It becomes my business when I see you struggling and pushing me away! You don't have to go through this alone."
He paused, his expression softening for just a moment before hardening again. "You think I'm struggling? You think I can't handle myself? You don't even know half of what's going on with me. You're just a kid trying to play hero."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "I'm not trying to be a hero! I just want to be your friend," I replied, my voice trembling with emotion. "But every time I try to reach out, you just shut me down!"
"Maybe I don't want your help!" Isamu exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You act like you know everything about me, but you don't. So just back off!"
His words felt like a knife, cutting deeper than I expected. I stood there, breathless, grappling with the pain of his rejection. "Fine. If that's how you really feel, then maybe I should just leave you alone," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I turned away.
"Good!" Isamu shouted after me, his voice echoing in the empty studio.
I stormed out, my heart racing, anger and hurt swirling within me like a storm. As I stepped into the cool evening air, I felt a mix of regret and confusion. Was it really worth it to keep pushing him? Did he even want my help, or was I just making things worse?
I walked home, lost in thought, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions. Just as I reached my door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a message from one of my friends, but the notification read: Unknown Number.
Curiosity piqued, I hesitated before opening it. The message read: "I know what you're looking for. Meet me at the old bridge tomorrow night."
A chill ran down my spine. The tone felt familiar, and my mind raced back to the camp, to that moment when everything had felt so surreal. I glanced around, half-expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows, but the street was empty.
Should I even respond? I thought about Isamu, about the secrets he was hiding and how I felt powerless to help him. But maybe this unknown person had information that could shed light on what was really going on with Isamu.
After a moment's hesitation, I typed back: "Who is this?"
The reply came almost immediately: "Someone who knows Isamu's world better than you think."
