I'm just... here. The bell rings, and the flood of students pouring out of the classroom reminds me of what I'm not—a part of it all. I don't hurry. Why would I? It's not like I'm in any rush to get anywhere important. Not that I have anywhere to be, anyway.
I close my locker slowly. Not that it matters. No one's watching. No one ever watches. The same dull noise fills the hallways, the same laughter, the same chatter, the same buzz of life happening all around me while I stay invisible. It's like I'm just a shadow, something that barely exists in the grand scheme of things. That's fine. I'm fine with it.
Everyone's rushing off to their lives, meeting their friends, planning their weekends, talking about their futures. It's all so... full. So vibrant. And then there's me. The guy with no friends, no goals, and no real purpose. I'm not the type to make waves, but that's because I'm not worth noticing.
It wasn't always like this. Well, actually, it kind of was. But there was a time when I pretended it wasn't. I used to be like everyone else, or at least I tried to be. Not that anyone noticed. You probably wouldn't have either. I was just there, existing like all the other kids who blended into the background.
My parents—yeah, I had those once—used to tell me I had potential. I guess everyone says that to their kids. They said I was "smart," that I could be anything I wanted. Funny how that's always the advice parents give, like the world is just waiting for you to show up and do something.
But the thing is, I was never special. I wasn't smart. I wasn't athletic. I wasn't funny or charming or anything people liked to be around. I just existed. Maybe that was enough when I was younger. Maybe I believed the lies about myself. Who knows?
That was before the accident. Before everything crashed down.
My parents were killed in a car accident when I was ten. The details are a blur—just some vague news reports, some talk about a drunk driver. They were on their way home from a meeting late at night. I was asleep in the backseat, lucky enough to survive. I don't remember much after that—just waking up in the hospital, the cold, sterile smell of the place, and the realization that I was alone.
My aunt and uncle took me in after that. They were nice enough, but they weren't my parents. I guess they never quite knew what to do with me. I was this strange kid who no longer had anything going for him, and they just tried to make sure I didn't ruin their lives too much. Not that I did much to get in the way.
The thing is, after that, I stopped trying.
There's a moment when you realize that life isn't like the movies or the stories people tell. You can try all you want to be someone, to be special, but in the end, the world doesn't care. So why bother?
I didn't. I stopped bothering.
Back to the Present
I step outside the school building and into the same world that hasn't changed since I first walked through those gates. The air's not even that fresh, and it's only a few degrees warmer than it should be for an autumn day. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
There they are again—those girls. Haruka and her friends, standing by the entrance, laughing like they're part of some group I'll never fit into. Haruka's always the loudest. Always waving her hands around and getting attention. Always acting like she's the center of everything. And yet, she's still looking at me. Why? Not that I'm a stalker.
I don't get it. Why is she always looking at me? Maybe it's just a coincidence. She probably doesn't even care about me. Why would she? I'm just... me. No better than anyone else.
Sora, Aya, Rika, Miyuki—all of them. They look at me too, sometimes. I've caught them. But they don't ever say anything. They don't approach me. They just... observe. Like I'm some kind of strange creature they're studying from a distance. I wouldn't even call it interest—it's more like curiosity, maybe pity. But they never come closer. I don't give them any reason to.
I don't give anyone a reason to.
I walk past them without acknowledging their gazes. They're not important. I'm not important.
I keep walking, I glance up at the sky. It's weird. I always do that. Look up at the clouds. Maybe I'm looking for something up there—some kind of sign that maybe, just maybe, I'm not as useless as I feel. But I never find it. Just more clouds. Floating by, moving on, never stopping to look down at the tiny speck on the ground that's me.
I see one big cloud today. It's not special. It's just... huge. A giant, fluffy thing that takes up way too much space in the sky. Honestly, it kind of looks like a chest. Not the treasure kind. More like one of those old, wooden chests people use to store useless stuff in the attic. Maybe it's full of junk, old memories, and broken dreams. Maybe it's my future, just sitting there, full of things I'll never get to touch.
I laugh bitterly to myself. "Yeah, probably full of old hopes that didn't work out. Mine included."
I'm not sure why I said that, but I do. Sometimes talking to myself is the only thing that makes sense anymore. Maybe I'll just keep pretending that cloud is full of treasure. It's the only way to stop thinking about how nothing ever seems to change for me.
I stop and stare at it for a few seconds longer, just enough time for me to feel stupid for even thinking about it. The thing is, that's probably all life is—just waiting for some big chest in the sky that will never come down to the ground.
sigh!! and keep walking. The bus is probably already on its way, but I don't care if I miss it. I'll just walk home. It's not like I have anywhere better to be. No one's waiting for me. Not like anyone ever does.
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The school day drags on, just like every other. The cycle of lessons, the hum of voices I can barely hear, the ticking clock that moves at its own pace, but never fast enough to end the day. It's all so... routine. A pattern I can't break free from.
I sit in the back of the class, head down, eyes fixed on the page in front of me, though I'm not really reading. I haven't read a word in the last ten minutes. Instead, my mind is wandering, blank, somewhere between being fully awake and wishing I were asleep. At least then, the world wouldn't exist, even if just for a few hours.
There's a tap on my shoulder, and I stiffen, instinctively leaning away.
"Clyde! Hey, are you paying attention?" It's Haruka. The girl who never stops talking.
I blink, my gaze still unfocused, half wishing I could just disappear. But I don't say anything. If I don't respond, she'll go away. Right?
"Uhh, Clyde?" She taps again. "You're kinda zoning out. The teacher asked you a question."
I glance up, and sure enough, the entire class is looking at me. The teacher's waiting, and Haruka's looking at me with a mix of amusement and annoyance.
I don't answer right away. Instead, I stare at her, my brain slowly trying to catch up. Why is she paying attention to me? What do they expect from me?
"Sorry," I mumble, voice barely above a whisper, before offering a weak response that's more of a guess than anything else.
The teacher sighs and moves on, but Haruka doesn't let it slide. "You're so weird sometimes, Clyde. You never talk. Are you... okay?"
I just nod, not bothering to explain. I know she's trying to be friendly, but I can't help it. I don't want to be part of the conversation. I don't want her to care. But I don't tell her that. I don't have the energy to.
She seems to sense that, but she doesn't press it. For now, anyway.
The class ends, and as always, I take my time getting up. I don't rush, don't bother with any small talk. There's no point. But Haruka's voice follows me down the hall anyway.
"You know, you should hang out with us sometime. I'm serious. We're having a get-together this weekend. You should come." She sounds so casual, but I can tell that she's trying to convince me. I know Haruka's type. She's an extrovert, bubbly and loud, always looking for new friends to drag along with her.
"Yeah, right," I mutter, trying to keep my voice neutral, but it's hard. The last thing I want to do is go to some group hangout with her and her friends. I'll just end up like a shadow in the corner, doing nothing and watching everyone else enjoy themselves while I stay stuck in my own head.
Haruka doesn't press further, but the invitation lingers. There's something about it, though. The way she's so persistent, so open. Like she genuinely wants me around. But why? I'm a Nobody.
The bell rings, signaling the end of the day, and I begin walking out toward the gates, just like I always do. Alone. The streets are quieter than usual as the sun starts to set.
I'm about halfway down the block when I feel it—a gaze. Not just any gaze, but a heavy, suffocating stare. My stomach tightens instinctively, and I glance around, my eyes briefly meeting the silhouette of a girl standing near the school entrance.
It's... Sora. She's not close enough to talk to, but her eyes are locked on me.
There's something unsettling about the way she watches me. Sora isn't like Haruka. She's quieter, softer in her approach. But there's a certain intensity behind her eyes. It's like she's... waiting for something. Watching. But she doesn't come any closer.
I don't know why, but I feel her presence more than I should. I shake it off. She's just another face in the crowd. Not like I'm important enough to stand out to her.
Reflection:
Later that evening, I'm sitting in my room, staring out the window at the empty street, my mind wandering again.
Haruka's words keep echoing in my head. "You should hang out with us sometime."
scoff to myself. I don't belong with them. I don't belong anywhere. Besides, I'm fine with being alone. But there's a part of me, deep down, that wonders... what if?
I rub my forehead and groan. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just my overactive imagination playing tricks on me. But it's hard to shake the feeling that something's about to change. That I'm about to be dragged into something I can't escape.
I let out a long sigh. Nothing's going to change. I'm still the same Clyde—ugly, good-for-nothing, and indifferent to it all. But maybe, just maybe, those two girls are starting to stir something inside me. Something I've buried for years