~Tears of Unreciprocated Love?

Ayanokoji walked through the dimly lit corridors of the dormitory.

The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting faint shadows that danced on the floor. As he neared his room, he stopped, staring blankly at the door.

Memories of Ichinose's bright smile flooded his mind, but her laughter quickly faded, replaced by the hurt he had inflicted.

"I will never forgive you, even if you beg for it someday,"

she had said, her voice trembling, eyes glistening with tears.

The memory was relentless. He leaned against the wall, his face as calm and unreadable as ever, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper.

"Why can't I stop thinking about her?" he wondered, unable to shake the image of her tear-streaked face.

He thought back to the way her eyes had sparkled just before he had crushed her hope.

The look of hurt on her face struck him harder than he cared to admit.

It felt as if he'd taken a blow himself, the kind that left a dull, lingering ache.

"Was it really necessary to be so ruthless?" he questioned, a rare moment of doubt creeping into his mind.

He closed his eyes, but memories of his mother rose unbidden-her distant gaze, her cold indifference.

Ichinose's pain had reminded him of his own, of the way he had once tried to reach out only to be met with silence.

"I'll apologize."

The thought slipped from his lips, quiet yet resolute. Even the word felt foreign, sending a chill down his spine.

But what did it mean to apologize? Ayanokoji had never seen words as anything other than tools, mere devices to manipulate or achieve a goal.

Apologizing was something he'd always regarded as weakness, an admission of failure.

"Maybe tomorrow,".he murmured, making a fragile promise to himself.

"I'll talk to her tomorrow."

The idea unsettled him. Confronting her meant facing his own shortcomings, acknowledging the walls he had spent years building around himself.

He didn't want to continue this cycle of hurt. If anyone deserved a chance to heal, .....

maybe it was her.

And perhaps, in her forgiveness, he could find something he had long since lost in himself.

"As long as someone tries... things might change," he whispered, almost as if testing the weight of his own words.

He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closing, but the thought of Ichinose's tearful face lingered.

Ichinose stood alone, gazing out at the vast sea. The moonlight danced across the waves, glimmering like broken glass.

The weight of the world pressed down on her shoulders, heavy with disappointment, hurt, and confusion.

She glanced down at the edge, a haunting thought flickering in her mind.

"What would it be like to just... jump?" she whispered, her voice barely rising above the wind.

"Would it hurt?

Or

would it be freeing?"

Her mind drifted to a memory, a night from long ago.