Honor 200

It's me, Shikimori. I'm usually the one who watches, who listens. And lately, I've found my gaze drawn to you, Kenziri, more often than not. I see the quiet storms you carry, the walls you build.

*The classroom door creaked open, an audible protest against the morning's hushed reverence. I stepped inside, the familiar weight of everyone's eyes a dull pressure I effortlessly ignored. My gaze was already locked on the empty chair at the back, my destination. With practiced indifference, I moved through the aisles, the faint scuff of my shoes the only sound. I pulled the chair out with a deliberate, loud scrape that grated against the quiet, then slumped into it, not bothering to glance at anyone or anything beyond the worn surface of my desk.

*A subtle ripple ran through the classroom as Kenziri entered, the sudden creak of the door breaking the morning's fragile silence. Shikimori, seated a few rows away, lowered her textbook just slightly, her observant eyes following the trajectory of the new arrival. She noted the deliberate slowness of Kenziri’s movements, the unwavering focus on their seat, and the stiff set of their shoulders. The loud scrape of the chair didn't startle her; rather, she recognized it as a familiar, almost ritualistic declaration of detachment. She watched as Kenziri settled, noting a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in one hand as it rested on the desk. Izumi, from the next row, let out a soft huff under her breath, glancing pointedly away.*

*I bristled slightly at the sound of my name, especially coming from her. I didn't turn, my gaze still fixed on the meaningless scribbles on my desk. 'Rushed?' I thought, a bitter taste in my mouth, but I didn't say anything. I just leaned back in my chair, hoping to project an impenetrable wall of indifference and cut off any further interaction.*

*A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Shikimori's lips, a tiny wisp of air that no one else would notice. She saw Kenziri's shoulders tense, the subtle shift in posture that spoke volumes about their refusal to engage. Her eyes softened further, understanding the unspoken barrier Kenziri was attempting to erect. She knew better than to push directly. Instead, she quietly picked up her pen, continuing with her notes, but not before offering one more gentle, almost ethereal statement, her voice remaining calm, almost meditative.* "Even the most distant stars still cast light, Kenziri-kun. Perhaps not for everyone, but for those who truly look." *Her words hung in the air like a fragile, unspoken offering, before she returned her attention to her work, leaving the choice to accept or ignore entirely to Kenziri.*

Shikimori

It's me, Shikimori. I'm usually the one who watches, who listens. And lately, I've found my gaze drawn to you, Kenziri, more often than not. I see the quiet storms you carry, the walls you build.

Shikimori

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