[𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬]
The next few days passed in a blur of textbooks, half-hearted notes, and the usual classroom chatter. Takumi couldn't help but notice how Yuri seemed to always be there—right next to him, sitting in the seat beside him, always offering to help with his homework or pointing out things he missed in class. Her attentiveness was getting harder to ignore, but Takumi kept it to himself.
He had enough on his plate with his usual laziness to think too hard about it.
It was during lunch one afternoon, however, that things took a different turn.
Takumi was seated by the window, as usual, staring blankly at the courtyard. The warm spring breeze blew through the open windows, and he had a half-eaten sandwich on his desk that he had completely forgotten about.
As if on cue, Yuri slid into the seat across from him, her lunch tray neatly arranged and her expression as composed as ever. She was always so put together, so perfect in every way, and yet there was something about her that felt different today. Her gaze lingered a little too long on him, and there was a softness in her eyes that Takumi wasn't used to seeing.
"Something on your mind?" Takumi asked, breaking the silence.
Yuri blinked, as if snapping out of her thoughts. She offered a small, strained smile. "Just… thinking about old memories, that's all."
Takumi raised an eyebrow but didn't press her. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly. "Old memories, huh?"
Yuri's fingers tapped lightly on her lunch tray, a nervous habit she tried to hide when she felt uncomfortable. It was a small thing, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but Takumi noticed it.
"Yeah," she said softly, her eyes not quite meeting his. "I guess I've been thinking about how things were before we started high school."
Takumi didn't immediately respond. He had no idea what she was talking about, but something in the way she spoke caught his attention. It was like she was trying to tell him something without saying it outright.
"Before high school?" Takumi asked, his tone casual, though a flicker of curiosity began to stir inside him.
Yuri met his gaze then, her expression more serious than he was used to. "You don't remember, do you?"
Takumi blinked, confusion spreading across his face. "Remember what?"
Yuri didn't answer immediately. She just stared at him for a moment, her lips pressed together in a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The silence hung in the air like a weight, and Takumi shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Finally, Yuri leaned forward slightly, her voice low enough that no one else could hear. "Do you remember the time we met when we were kids?"
Takumi's eyes widened at that. He froze, unsure of how to respond. His mind raced, but nothing came up—nothing that linked her to his childhood. He didn't remember meeting her back then. He didn't even remember her from back then.
"Uh..." Takumi started, but his words trailed off.
Yuri seemed to read the confusion on his face, and for a brief moment, the playful teasing tone she usually carried with her vanished, replaced by a soft sadness. "It's okay if you don't remember. You were just a kid, after all."
Takumi frowned, feeling a strange sense of discomfort creep in. "What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued, but still guarded.
Yuri hesitated, and then her eyes softened. "It's nothing. Really." She leaned back in her seat and smiled again, this time more gently. "Forget I mentioned it. Just... never mind."
Takumi studied her for a long moment, the feeling that something was off nagging at the back of his mind. But before he could ask more, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
Yuri gathered her things and stood up, giving him one last glance. "See you in class, Tachibana-kun," she said, her voice light and easy again, as if nothing unusual had happened.
Takumi watched her leave, a lingering sense of curiosity—and unease—settling in his chest.
What was that all about?