Natsusawa Saku

“You’re a very special person to me,” you said, voice soft over the crashing of waves, your eyes catching the glow of the fireworks above. You smiled at him like it was the easiest thing in the world to say, like you hadn’t just casually shattered what little stability he had left.

Natsusawa Saku felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. He turned his gaze away, jaw tight, trying to ignore the way his heart leapt and twisted inside his chest. God, he was so screwed.

✧ —————— ⊹ ࣪ ˖ θρ ˖ ࣪⊹ —————— ✧

You had met exactly one year ago — midwinter, the wind still sharp with the tail end of December. Snow clung to the edges of the school gate that day, melting slowly against the sun. You had been standing beside your best friend, all polished shoes and pressed uniform, looking like someone who had never once waited in the cold for a late train. Just another spoiled girl from Kikyo Private Academy. He hadn’t liked you. Not even a little. You looked too clean, too poised, like you walked around thinking you were above the rest of them. And maybe you did.

But unfortunately, his best friend had fallen hopelessly in love with yours, and soon enough, their relationship meant your lives became tangled.

The first real conversation between the two of you was barely a conversation at all, more of a clash, honestly. You made a comment about how chaotic public schools seemed, and he snapped something defensive back before walking off. He didn’t care to see you again after that.

But somehow, you kept showing up. Study sessions, weekend group hangouts, late-night calls to organize events for the group. And little by little, the awkwardness between you faded. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but at some point, you'd stopped being just the annoying rich girl who looked down on people like him and started becoming... you.

Maybe it was during those study sessions. You were sharp, patient, and surprisingly gentle when explaining complex subjects. Unlike him, who could barely teach himself, let alone someone else. You made him want to be better. Once, after a particularly successful session, you teased him: “Ever thought of becoming a teacher?” The idea stuck with him longer than he expected. Or maybe it was your shy little gift on his birthday: a pair of wireless earbuds, simple but thoughtful. You barely looked him in the eye when you handed them over, muttering something about how he always borrowed your headphones during study sessions.

Or maybe it wasn’t any single moment. Maybe it was just the way you always listened, even when no one else did. How you encouraged your friends quietly, how your eyes lit up when you talked about things you loved. How you were so smart, so composed, but so clumsy with feelings — and didn’t even realize it.

Saku couldn’t remember when he’d fallen for you. Just that one day, he woke up and realized that you were everywhere: in his thoughts, in his chest, in the air around him. You laughed too loudly at his sarcastic remarks. You cried over a novel you read in class and got embarrassed when he caught you. You held your pencil between your teeth when you were frustrated. You apologized when you snapped at people. You wanted to be better. And you were completely unreachable.

Not just because you were from a different world — money, manners, a future paved in gold — but because you didn't know. You had no idea what you did to him. How much it hurt when you leaned your head on his shoulder just because you were tired, or how his heart stuttered every time you said something kind without realizing how much it meant.

And Natsusawa? He was falling hard. He told himself it was just a phase. A platonic crush. Something his brain conjured out of pure confusion because he’d never met a girl like you before. He figured it’d fade. It didn’t. It only got worse.

You were always there, effortlessly slipping into his routine. Laughing too close. Tugging his sleeve when you wanted his attention. Looking up at him when you asked for his opinion, eyes wide, full of something he couldn’t afford to name. You were ambitious, focused, so goddamn out of reach. And you had no idea (zero clue) how you affected him. Worse: you said things like that. You looked at him like he was someone important. Someone who mattered.

Stop, he wanted to scream. Stop making this harder.

It got to the point where even the others started noticing. Joking that there was something going on between you. And every time, Natsusawa just laughed it off, cheeks burning, eyes avoiding yours. He would never confess. He’d rather disappear. And you were so painfully oblivious. You thought it was normal to want to be close to him. You thought he was just a good friend, the one who listened without judging, who challenged you to be better. He was special to you — just not in the way he needed to be. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Then, without warning, he started pulling away. Little by little. Turning down your invitations, saying he was busy. Avoiding your gaze in group outings. Dodging your attempts to talk, to study, to laugh like before.

You noticed. You pretended you didn’t, but you noticed.

✧ —————— ⊹ ࣪ ˖ θρ ˖ ࣪⊹ —————— ✧

And finally, on New Year's Eve, your group decided to spend the night at the beach. Someone’s cousin had a house by the coast. Bonfire, fireworks, laughter echoing under the stars. Everyone wore sweaters and scarves, breath visible in the chilly night air, the ocean black and endless behind them. You were sitting next to him on the sand, legs pulled close, your face lit by the gold and red bursts in the sky. Maybe it was the way the light hit your eyes. Maybe it was the distance that had been growing between you. Maybe it was just how much he missed you. Maybe it was all of it.

“You’re a very special person to me,” you said. So easy. So sincere.

And Natsusawa Saku wanted to scream, to run, to kiss you, to shake you and ask why the hell you had to say something like that. Because he was going to explode.