(A glimpse into a boy who smiled even when the world ignored his tears...)
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A slow drizzle tapped against the classroom windows.
Akira sat near the last bench, arms folded, chin resting on his hand. His eyes weren't focused on the blackboard or the equations that the teacher scribbled. They were lost—locked on a girl two seats ahead.
Her name was Yuna.
She was the only light in his otherwise grey world. Not because she ever spoke to him. But because she didn't look at him like trash.
She didn't look at him like everyone else.
Akira was the kind of student who teachers often forgot to mark attendance for. He wasn't dumb—he just stopped trying.
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Middle School – 2 Years Ago
"Oi, loser! What's this? Trying to act cool with that book?"
Three boys towered over a younger Akira, snatching away the novel he was reading. It was fantasy—filled with brave heroes and kingdoms.
They tore the cover apart.
He didn't cry. He never did.
He just picked up the pages… quietly.
That day, he got his first bruise.
That was also the day he stopped talking in class.
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The Day He Fell in Love
It was 9th grade.
Someone spilled water on the floor. Akira slipped while walking in. His tray of lunch launched into the air… and splattered all over a girl's white shirt.
Everyone gasped.
He expected a slap.
But Yuna just… smiled.
"It's okay. Are you hurt?"
It was the first time someone had asked him that.
That one sentence stayed with him longer than any wound.
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The Final Year – Just Weeks Before His Death
By now, the bruises weren't only physical. They lived in his eyes.
He had stopped speaking completely in class. His teachers had labelled him "mentally slow" behind his back.
At home, his parents fought more than they ate.
And still, every day…
He looked at Yuna.
Not because he believed he'd ever be loved… but because she reminded him that kindness once existed.
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His Dream
He wanted to change.
He wanted to confess.
He wanted to be noticed—not as a punching bag, not as a ghost—but as someone who mattered.
But he never did.
Because fate had different plans.
And the day he finally smiled, while walking alone in that hoodie, trying to feel alive under the sky…
…was the day he died.