– The Weight of Mornings

The alarm rang.

Rin Asakura didn't move.

The shrill beeping filled his room, bouncing off the unwashed walls, the scattered notebooks, the chair with a jacket draped over it since last week. His phone screen glowed faintly on the nightstand, showing 6:30 AM. The same time as always. The same morning as always.

He stared at the ceiling, counting the tiny cracks in the paint. Five, maybe six. He should get up. He knew that. But the thought of another day, another set of empty conversations, another round of forcing himself to exist—it was exhausting.

The alarm continued. He exhaled sharply, rolling over and slamming his finger against the screen. Silence.

For a moment, he lay there, listening to the dull hum of the city outside. The world was moving. He wasn't.

After a few minutes, or maybe ten, Rin finally sat up. His body felt heavier than it should, like gravity had decided he was worth more today. He ran a hand through his messy black hair and glanced at the mirror across the room.

His reflection stared back, uninterested. Dark circles under his eyes. A blank expression. Just a body that happened to be awake.

Pulling on his uniform, he grabbed his bag and left his room without a sound.

---

The kitchen was empty. Not surprising. His parents were already gone, lost in their routines—his father working late at some company he never talked about, his mother always out doing… whatever it was she did. The only proof they existed was a half-full coffee mug and a note stuck to the fridge.

"Dinner money on the counter. Have a good day."

Rin ignored it.

He wasn't hungry, but he grabbed a piece of toast anyway, shoving it into his mouth as he slipped on his shoes. The motions were automatic, robotic. His mind wasn't here. It was floating somewhere far away, in the quiet space between yesterday and today.

---

The walk to school was the same as always.

The train station was crowded. He stood among strangers, the scent of coffee and perfume mixing in the air. Voices blurred together, footsteps echoed, and yet, he felt like he was the only one not really there.

At school, people moved in groups, chatting about whatever meaningless things filled their lives. Rin didn't belong to any of them.

"Hey, Asakura."

A voice called out as he stepped into the classroom. Rin turned his head slightly. Haruki Tanabe. Loud, friendly, the type of guy everyone liked. The type Rin could never be.

"You alive today?" Haruki grinned, tapping his desk as Rin sat down.

Barely.

Rin forced a small nod. He didn't dislike Haruki, but their conversations were always the same—shallow, harmless, forgettable.

The morning passed in a blur of lectures and scribbled notes. Teachers talked, students whispered, and time dragged its feet. Rin barely heard any of it.

By lunch, he was already exhausted.

Instead of eating, he slipped away to the rooftop, the only place that felt like his own. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from last night. He leaned against the railing, eyes trailing over the horizon.

Sometimes, he wondered what it would feel like to just disappear.

Would anyone notice?

Would anyone care?

His thoughts drifted, heavy like stones sinking in deep water. Then—

"Hey."

Rin turned. A girl stood a few feet away, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, hair tied up lazily. Aoi Sakamura. Bright, untouchable, always surrounded by people. Yet, she was here. Alone.

She tilted her head. "Didn't think anyone else came up here."

Rin didn't answer.

Aoi smirked, stepping closer. "What, am I interrupting some deep, brooding moment?"

Her tone was teasing, but her eyes… there was something in them. Something Rin recognized. A shadow.

Like she understood.

For the first time that day, something in Rin's chest shifted.

Maybe today wouldn't be exactly the same after all.