As time passed Arima and Kaori's friendship continued to deepen, though neither of them spoke openly about the feelings blossoming between them. Unspoken yet undeniable, there was a warmth in each glance, a comfort in each shared silence. But Arima began noticing something else—moments when Kaori's expression would falter, a shadow crossing her face as though she was carrying a weight she couldn't share.
One evening, as they walked home from school together, Arima gathered the courage to ask her,
"Kaori… is something bothering you?"
She looked surprised but quickly masked it with a gentle smile.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's just… sometimes it seems like you're carrying something heavy. You don't have to tell me, but… I'm here if you ever need to talk."
Kaori's smile softened, and she looked down, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her uniform.
"Thank you, Arima. You're kind. I don't think anyone's noticed that before."
Arima felt a warmth spread in his chest, a feeling that this moment between them was more meaningful than he'd realized. Though she didn't open up further, her gratitude was enough for now.