Meeting Komi After School ✭ ❲VALIDATED❳

All that perfection. All that distance. It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't godhood. It was terror. A prison of her own making, with bars of social anxiety so thick she couldn't even ask for help with her own shoe.

The sun was setting, painting the hallway in shades of orange and gold. I stood up, slung my average backpack over my shoulder, and nodded. Meeting Komi After School

The final bell of the day was a ghost. It rang, but no one seemed to hear it except me. The classroom erupted into the usual symphony of scraping chairs, laughing cliques, and the thunder of sneakers toward the door. All that perfection

"Komi-san?"

Komi Shouko was crying in earnest now. Silent, beautiful, horrible tears. Her shoulders shook. It wasn't godhood

I panicked. "Oh no—I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Was that weird? I'm so sorry, I'll just—"

I read the words. Then I read them again.