Yuna had always been the quiet one—watchful, soft-spoken, and fiercely loyal. When her best friend Aira transferred to a new school, Yuna promised herself she’d protect her. Aira had always been gentle, the kind of person who cried over broken wings on butterflies and gave away her last snack to someone in need. But kindness, it turned out, was easy to bruise.
It started small—snide comments, giggles behind backs. Then it escalated. Notes in lockers, “accidental” spills in the cafeteria. Aira always smiled through it, telling Yuna it was fine. But Yuna knew better.
She watched. She remembered names. She took photos. She listened to whispers in the hallway.
And when she had everything—proof of the bullying, messages, recordings—Yuna reported it to the guidance office, backed by undeniable evidence. The school launched an investigation. The ringleader: Kai Ishida, star athlete, popular, cocky—and the same boy who pushed Aira to tears behind the gym.
Kai was suspended for two weeks, and the school buzzed with rumors. Most didn’t know who brought him down, but Kai did. He remembered the quiet girl with sharp eyes and the silence that followed her.
When he came back, he expected her to gloat. She didn’t.
Instead, she sat under a cherry blossom tree after school, headphones on, sketching in her notebook. Curious, he approached.
“You got me suspended,” he said flatly.
“I got justice,” she replied, not even looking up.
He expected her to be proud, maybe spiteful. But there was no satisfaction in her voice—just calm certainty. That shook him more than any anger would have.
Over the next few weeks, he kept running into her. At first, by accident. Then, not so much.
He saw how she always walked Aira to the bus, how she read quietly during lunch, how she pulled her sleeves over her hands when she was deep in thought. And slowly, the guilt twisted into something unexpected—curiosity, admiration… something softer.
“I was a jerk,” he said one afternoon, sitting across from her on the grass.
“You were,” she replied.
“Why go that far? I wasn’t bullying you.”
“You hurt someone I care about,” she said simply. “That was enough.”
Kai stared at her, quiet. In that moment, he didn’t see an enemy. He saw someone strong, someone dangerous in her devotion—and beautiful for it.
He fell. Harder than he expected.
And Yuna? She didn’t fall. Not yet.
But she noticed the change—the way Kai apologized to Aira, the way he helped pick up books he once knocked down, the way he looked at her like she was a storm and a calm sea all at once.
She didn’t forgive easily. But maybe, just maybe, she was willing to see if change could be real.
For her best friend.
And now, maybe for herself too.
