The morning of Day 6 began in the faculty lounge, where all the teachers were gathered for a meeting. The principal stood at the front, explaining updates about new policies and initiatives for the semester. Sakaki sat near the back, her long fingers folded neatly on the table. Her body was there, but her mind drifted elsewhere.
Her eyes were fixed on the window, watching the clouds inch slowly across the pale morning sky. She let out a soft, inaudible sigh. Even in my thirties, I can't seem to shake this habit. Always the seat by the window. Always gazing out, wondering about things far beyond my reach.
The room bustled with murmurs and note-taking, but Sakaki remained quiet, the faintest trace of nostalgia playing across her face. Her thoughts deepened. I wonder if this is why people said I was "mature" back then—because I didn't get caught up in the chaos. I wasn't mature. I just didn't know how to join in.
Later that day, Sakaki found herself walking through the halls, a small stack of papers in hand, on her way to the office. The rhythmic clicking of her heels on the polished floor echoed softly, a steady, calming sound.
As she passed one of the classrooms, she paused. Her eyes were drawn to the window, and through it, to a familiar figure sitting in the far back corner of the room.
Tomoko.
The girl sat slouched in her chair, her chin resting on her hand. Her eyes wandered out the window, unfocused and distant. Sakaki couldn't help but linger, her gaze softening.
For a moment, the classroom and hallway blurred together. In Tomoko, she saw herself—a teenage Sakaki, sitting quietly in the back corner, barely listening to Yukari's latest inane rants about English grammar, her wallet getting stolen for the umpteenth time, or her 'friendly' feuds with Miss. Kurosawa. Always avoiding the chaos. Always watching from the sidelines.
How many hours did I spend like that? Staring out the window, wishing I could be anywhere else? How many times did I convince myself I didn't need anyone?
Sakaki's grip on the papers tightened slightly, her calm mask cracking just a bit. She turned away, her steps heavier as she continued down the hall.
At lunch, Sakaki sat with one of Tomoko's teachers, a cheerful woman who loved to chat. Between bites of her bento, Sakaki worked up the courage to ask. "How is Kuroki-san in class?"
The other teacher tilted her head thoughtfully. "Hmm... She's quiet. Very quiet. Doesn't really speak unless spoken to. But she's polite, and she does her work. She's... well, she's just kind of there."
Sakaki frowned slightly. "Do any of her classmates... notice her?"
The teacher hesitated. "Not from what I've seen. Most of the students act like she isn't even there. I don't think she has many friends. She's... a little hard to approach."
Sakaki nodded, her face unreadable. Inside, her thoughts churned. Just like me. She's sitting there, hoping someone will notice her, but she doesn't know how to ask. How to connect. And the world just keeps spinning around her, too busy to see her struggle.
When Tomoko arrived for her session that afternoon, she hesitated at the door as usual. She peeked in, expecting to find Sakaki calmly waiting with tea prepared. Instead, Sakaki stood near the window, looking out at the setting sun.
"Oh, Kuroki-san. You're here," Sakaki said, turning to her with a soft smile.
Tomoko shuffled in awkwardly, her usual thoughts flaring. Ugh, here we go. Another round of 'let's talk about your feelings.' Maybe I'll just nod a lot so she thinks I'm cured or whatever.
But to her surprise, Sakaki didn't sit down or pull out the notebook. Instead, she clasped her hands in front of her and said, "There won't be a meeting today."
Tomoko blinked, confused. "Huh? Why not?"
"Because," Sakaki said, her voice gentle, "I thought we could do something different today. How about the arcade? Or a movie? Or even karaoke?"
Tomoko stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. Wait, what? Is this some kind of test? Is she trying to trick me into revealing how lame I am?
Sakaki knelt slightly, bringing herself closer to Tomoko's eye level. Her gaze was warm, almost maternal. "I just thought it might be nice to do something fun. To take a break. What do you think?"
Tomoko's inner voice screamed. She's serious. Oh my god, she's serious. She's not even asking me to do something weird or embarrassing. Is this... what having a cool adult in your life feels like?
Sakaki's thoughts overlapped with her own. I know how lonely it feels to sit in that back corner, day after day. I couldn't help myself back then, but maybe I can help her. Even if it's just for a little while.
Tomoko nodded stiffly, trying not to let her surprise show. "The... the arcade sounds fine, I guess."
Sakaki's smile grew just a bit. "Then let's go."
As they left the office together, walking side by side down the quiet hallway, Sakaki glanced at Tomoko, her heart heavy with unspoken words. You're not alone, Kuroki-san. You might think no one sees you, but I do. And I'll keep seeing you, for as long as you need me to.
And for once, Tomoko's thoughts were silent.