Disclaimer: I do not own Tonaru no Kaibutsu-kun.

I created that awful space. Between us stood laughter, and comfort, and friendship, but now, air. Heaps of invisible air that seemed to grow wider and farther and taller by any passing minute. Because words work, and I've always thought he wasn't one who would break from the ramblings of a noisy, cautious, and fickle brown-haired girl. Why'd he do that?

I used to see his face, always grinning, shadowed by that cap he usually wore. I never got used to seeing the back of his head, however. Or the skin of his hand as he waved without looking. Or the soles of his shoes as he stepped farther and farther away. I never got used to the way his attention stopped calling, or the mute sound on my phone at nights when I couldn't go to sleep. I never got used on how he said goodbye, because it was always a hello. And though it was always almost, I never got used to seeing him slip away from me.

They say people themselves cause the recurring thoughts that remind them at how wrong they were at life. They say that is called regret. I've never regretted anything in my life. Not when I studied for a whole week straight, sacrificing the number of posts and followers I might've gained on my blog. Not when I accidentally drank from his cup and I'd to spend the whole day contemplating about how embarrassing that was, because by then I've realized coffee is just as good as chocolate. Not when I fell asleep on Math class once, because then I noticed how scraggly his handwriting on his notebook was. Not when I've said "no" to every guy who confessed to me, no matter how great those boys might be… Well, not until him.

If this was a real wall, I could buy dynamites, and firecrackers, and all kinds of bombs just to hear the "kaboom" it makes as the concrete rumbles down. I could get the tallest ladder and climb high up until I see a peek on what's on the other side. I could spend every day shouting into the mass of solid until my throat would bleed and the person from the outside would notice my presence. But this is an invisible wall, and I can't hear it crash down, I can't lean my ladder on it, no matter how tall the ladder might be, and this kind of wall would soak up all the sound I can make, even if it may reach his ears. It was the kind of wall built stronger with my pride.

It was all fine until that Saturday night, when I told him to stop and basically told him he doesn't have any chance at all. And I was wrong, because he did. God, out of all the boys I've come to know he had the most chance! But I told him he didn't because I was stupid and I was afraid. And he tried to say something, but I wouldn't let him. And he's such an idiot because he'd insist, anyway. And I'm such an idiot because I was too sensitive, and I was angry, and I was almost crying because that's how ridiculous I am, yet I'm prideful when it comes to him, so I don't let it show. But he knows me so well, and that never seemed to work, and I can see from the way he looked at me that he knows I'm crying. And so he stops talking, and he waits and waits and waits before I speak again. He stands with me there, waiting for the signal that he should leave. It never came. It never came because I turned away first, and walked and walked farther from him.

And I'm stupid for thinking I'm hurting only myself, because even though I swear I know he's used to seeing the curls on the back of my head, or the sound of my footsteps getting quieter and quieter, or even the skin of my hand and the soles of my shoes, he never wanted to believe it.

So when we talked once again after that, it was never the same. That was when I went to the batting center once, and I leaned on the wall, not knowing he was doing the same on the other side. And I thought about that time when he confessed to me, how it happened on this very location, and I looked up to see the window which I once opened to ask him if we could be friends again. If only I could do that mow. But I can't, because he never answered my calls, and he never tried to call me once. I'm angry at him, or at least I'm trying to. If he doesn't want to talk, then I wouldn't want to.

But then he speaks and I wonder if he heard me gasp.

"How you doing, Natsume-san?" It was nice to hear his voice again.

"I'm determined not talk to you again." I replied sternly, which is easier when I shouldn't have to see his face.

He takes a while before answering back. "So you wouldn't want to lean your elbow on that window and ask if you want to be friends again, then?" He says.

I take a while before answering back as well because I'm awful at comebacks. And he was asking a hard question. "No." I finally said. "From now on, you can call me 'Not my friend'." I'm getting paranoid because I see him smiling at that remark. How he always smiled at my ridiculous comments. I see his smiling face even though he is nowhere in front of me.

"Well then, not my friend, I'd have to stop this conversation early because I have to go batting now." He says, and I can hear the mix of amusement and disappointment in his voice. "Nice talking to you, Natsu- Not my friend."

And I pout, and my hands curl into a fist and my mouth quivers, and I want to rip my hair out as I wait. I wait before I decide to slowly stand up and turn my head around to look through the glass in the window, and he is far away. Even if I heard his voice, even when he talked to me, when I decided to take a peek, all I saw was still the back of his head, the skin of his hands as it swung back to hit the ball, and the soles of his shoes as he steps inside the cage.

And the next time a word comes out of his mouth that's addressed to me is through his voicemail. Even though I wait everyday if he'd ever beep on me first, or hope that I bump into him somewhere just to see his face, I wasn't happy when he finally did. Because he told me he'd be leaving to transfer schools to a place far away. The voice told me that the chances of hearing it again would get slimmer and slimmer, and it was slim enough already.

So my hands worked. My fingers typed much faster on my phone compared to when I do on my blog. I text him and called him for like 53 and 18 times, respectively. And I only got one reply in which I discovered the dreaded (at least for me) day was tomorrow.

And so when the next day came, I went to the train station where I lost hope, where I broke down. I almost sat on that dirty floor because I saw that the train he was supposed to be in was already ready to move. I tried to look for his face through the windows, but I couldn't see him. More and more people tried to get inside, and the awful mass of bodies and faces that wasn't Sasayan's was frustrating. And I started to cry. I'd never hide my tear when it comes to him again. I'd have him know it, like when he first held my hand.

And I hear the train make a sound. I watch as it slowly moves forward, slowly, and slowly.

And I screamed, and I tore down that wall. I hoped and hoped he'd hear it through the air surrounding the train, through the thick transparent windows and into his ears.

"SASAYAN-KUN! DON'T YOU DO THIS TO ME PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE." The first compartment of the train has passed by. "I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING I'VE EVER SAID TO YOU. PLEASE DON'T GO, PLEASE DON'T- The second compartment passes. "GO, DARN IT. DO YOU KNOW I HOPE EVERYDAY THAT YOU'D CALL ME AND TELL ME YOU WANT TO SEE ME." Third one passes, and I wasn't bothered by all the people now starting to look at me. I didn't bother about the noise surrounding me, trying to block my own. "BECAUSE I WANT TO SEE YOU MORE THAN I THINK YOU DO. NOT-MY-FRIEND-" The fourth one passes and the people inside was looking through the window at me. "MY BUTT. OF COURSE YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND. YOU'RE MORE THAN THAT, DARN IT! SO PLEASE!" I was breaking down then, sitting on the ground, tears running from my eyes as I casually wipe them with my hands. "PLEASE… DON'T GO, SASAYAN-KUN…" The fifth compartment passes and that was the last of it. And I continue to cry and cry and wipe my eyes for him to see me from the other side. His hair and his clothes flaps in the wind created by the train as it ran past the both of us. It was a moving wall, and I finally realized how to destroy it. I just had to be honest and bring out all of me, and wait… because eventually it would end and pass by.

And I saw what was on the other side, and I didn't need to ask him if he heard what I said because he was speechless and blushing exactly the way he did at the past times. God, how I find it cute how he does that. The way he brings his arm up to his head and covers his face from the nose down, the way his eyes seem to not find a steady gaze yet at the same time keeping it on me.

And none of us moved. For a moment it was fine like that, a little space between us. We shared a moment we can never have again for the rest of our lives. I try to speak his name, but I can't. His hand was still over his mouth. And when he finally thinks he can handle it, he tries to speak as well.

He starts with an awkward smile. "I was always early in school. I never got late, because I didn't want to… But now, I'm glad I missed that train."

I wanted to go to him, and tell him… To convince him… What? So I keep my head low.

Convince him to stay? It was too late, that unexpected confession wouldn't make Sasayan's decision turn sideways. And when I look up, I see him in front of me. Close to me. And he is still short, and only slightly bit taller than me, and I liked that. I liked every bit of it.

"Want to spend one last time with me before the next train comes in?" He says and he chuckles, and he tells me not to cry, and he puts his cap on my head, where it fit perfectly, and gives me a request to take care of it while he's gone. And I wanted to grab his hand as it goes over my head, and look into his eyes, and tell him I will never get used to see him go.