The moment the teacher entered, Misaki Suzuki immediately let go of Akira.
"Sensei, it's nothing—really, it was my fault. I must've accidentally upset Megumi… that's why she got mad and pushed me," she said with practiced innocence, her voice now soft and full of self-blame.
Her shrill edge had vanished entirely.
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost dislocated something.
"Tanaka-sensei, I can confirm what happened. Kawashima Megumi did push Misaki. I saw Misaki fall," another girl spoke up righteously, pushing her glasses up her nose. Her name was Mai Tanaka—Misaki's loyal lapdog. She and Misaki were the main reasons my reputation had been dragged through the mud at school.
Tanaka-sensei looked between Akira and Misaki, sighed, and said in a complicated tone, "If that's the case, Megumi, come to my office after class."
This teacher had always been kind to me, but given Misaki's powerful family background, he often had no choice but to turn a blind eye to her actions.
Still, I felt a bit of relief. I wasn't too worried about Akira defending himself—he was more than capable. But socially? He had less interpersonal experience than a kindergartener. And if someone discovered he wasn't really me… the consequences could be catastrophic.
After class, the teacher took Akira to the office. Sensing no threat, Akira didn't resist.
Along the way, students gawked at "Kawashima Megumi," shocked to see her walking and seemingly fine. The story of her brutal beating had spread like wildfire.
"Megumi! Thank God you're okay!" someone shouted.
A tall, handsome boy pushed through the crowd and rushed up to Akira, grabbing his hand.
Akira flung it off instantly.
Even in spirit form, I felt my breath catch.
That boy… was Satoru Sato—my ex-boyfriend.
He was from a different year, top of his class, and always treated me gently. But one day, I caught him laughing and strolling hand-in-hand with Misaki Suzuki. I didn't say a word—just broke up with him on the spot.
We only dated for two months. Akira never even knew he existed.
Satoru looked awkward after being shaken off, but he blocked Akira again.
"Megumi, I know there are misunderstandings between us, but please—give me one more chance. Let me explain. After that… whatever you decide is up to you, I'll accept it."
His voice trembled with a mix of sorrow and pleading.
Akira, clearly irritated now, frowned. "Who are you? Get out of my way."
Satoru's expression froze. "Megumi… your voice…"
Tanaka-sensei, watching nearby, finally intervened.
"Young man, I need to speak with Kawashima Megumi right now. If you have something to discuss with her, do it later—please."
Satoru realized his mistake and quickly apologized. "Sorry. My fault."
He stepped aside.
Akira didn't even glance at him and walked away.
I followed closely behind.
In the office, Tanaka-sensei handed Akira a cup of hot tea.
"Megumi, I know things haven't been easy for you in class. Don't bottle it all up. If they cross the line again, report it. I'll help you."
He had told me this so many times before. But I always just brushed it off—I didn't want more trouble.
But Akira? He was actually interested.
"Sensei, there are a lot of them. I can't fight them all alone."
The teacher paused. "As far as I know, only Misaki, Mai, Riko, and Chizuru have given you issues. If there are more, tell me—I'll talk to them."
Akira silently noted down the names.
I gave a bitter smile. There were plenty of others too—just more discreet about their cruelty.
"Got it. Thank you, sensei," Akira said sweetly, nodding obediently.
I couldn't help but laugh. This was the first time I'd seen him act so cooperative.
Tanaka-sensei smiled with relief. "Alright. Head back to class. Whatever happens—protect yourself first."
He stepped aside to let Akira pass.
As Akira stepped out, someone was already waiting.
"Megumi."
I turned at the voice—Satoru again.
Akira glanced at him coldly, ignored him, and kept walking.
"Megumi, please… just five minutes," Satoru pleaded.
Akira stopped. He stared at him with disgust. "I wouldn't waste five seconds on you."
And with that, he walked away.
I looked at Satoru and sighed.
He was a good person—smart, kind, respectful. One of the few who had ever truly treated me well.
We met on a quiet, moonlit night. I'd gone to the library alone to research for a class project. Despite the school's high reputation, most students weren't serious about studying, so the library was usually deserted.
I had just found the book I needed and reached out to grab it—when a deep voice startled me.
"You like Shakespeare too?"
Startled, I dropped the book—right onto the head of the boy sitting below the shelf.
"Ow—" he groaned.
"Oh no, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there!" I knelt quickly, picking the book back up.
He looked at me, half amused, half annoyed.
"The book hits me, and your first reaction is to rescue the book?"
I panicked a little. "Sorry… I just figured the book wouldn't die."
He blinked—then burst out laughing.
"You're loud. This is a library."
"You don't have to worry. It's just us here," he said, leaning casually against the shelves.
I peeked around—he was right. Not a soul in sight.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I'm here every day. This whole place feels like mine. Guess I've got company now."
I quickly waved my hands. "Oh no, I'm only here for today. It's still your territory."
He didn't respond to that. "I'm Satoru Sato. What's your name?"
"Kawashima Megumi."
"Megumi… mind if I take a look at what you're reading?"
He glanced at the book in my arms.
"A Midsummer Night's Dream? You like comedies?"
I shook my head.
"Not really. Happy endings only make me feel worse. They make you think life could be that beautiful—but it never is. Those stories only exist in books. Finishing them leaves me more empty than before."
Satoru leaned back, studying me.
"Then why borrow this one?"
"My lit teacher asked us to write about Shakespeare. I figured I'd use this for reference."
"There's plenty of tragedy in Shakespeare. If comedies don't suit you, try Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet."
I shook my head again. "If comedies give me nothing, tragedies just make things worse."
"Then isn't comedy better? At least it gives you a moment of joy."
I froze.
"Maybe."
"Then tell me—why aren't you happy?" he asked, eyes bright and clear.
"I…" For a moment, I felt the urge to tell him everything. But I held it back. We were strangers. No point in giving someone a key to your weakest spot.
"Sorry. I have to go."
I nodded politely, hugged my book to my chest, and walked away.
That was the first time we met.
Even now, the memory is crystal clear—his voice, his scent, his expression. I remembered it all.
As I looked at him now—lost and hollow—I wondered…
Had he ever truly loved me?
Before I could think further, I realized Akira was already gone.