Sayaka returned to the room balancing two drinks and a small tray of snacks, still carrying the momentum of her casual, playful tone.

"So I made an executive decision to steal the last pudding cup," she called from the hallway with mock arrogance, nudging the door open with her shoulder. "You snooze, you lose, my friend!"

She chuckled before entering the room, placing the drinks down, her voice continuing without pause as she adjusted her cardigan and settled near the bed again. She began opening one of the wrappers and tossed a glance his way—

—and stopped.

Her heart stumbled. He sat at the edge of the bed, body slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers loosely woven together. He stared down at the floor, unmoving, like the weight of everything he had held inside had finally crushed him when he thought he was alone. His posture wasn’t just tired—it was hollow.

Sayaka stood frozen for a second, blinking. Then quietly sat the snack on the desk and stepped closer.

“...Hey,” she said softly, barely above a whisper now. The word floated between them, heavy with concern. No response. She took another step. “Are you okay?”

He gave the faintest nod. But still didn’t meet her gaze. She crouched down beside him, searching his face. "You know I’ve seen you lie before, right?" she tried with a nervous chuckle. "You’re a terrible actor."

Still, nothing. No smile. Not even a twitch.

"Alright, fine. Emergency joke mode," she murmured, trying to summon warmth, though her voice faltered at the edges. "Why don’t fish do well in school?" A pause. “Because they’re always swimming below 'sea' level...”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

Sayaka stared at him—truly stared, her violet eyes softening with an emotion too vast to name. She reached out, resting her hand gently on the bedspread near his. “It’s okay,” she whispered to no one in particular. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m here.”