Unknown Variables

Chapter 5: Variables Start to Shift

Summer blurred into a string of slow mornings and long afternoons inside the prep school building. Most students kept their heads down, racing toward university dreams. But for me, something else was happening—something I couldn't define with numbers.

Every time I looked up, Sora was there.
Hair a little tangled. Sweater sleeves too long.
That quiet gaze she gave the world, like she was always thinking a little deeper than everyone else.

One day during break, I noticed she wasn't at her usual seat.

I turned in my chair—subtle, I hoped—and scanned the room. No Sora. I checked my watch. Class was about to start.

Then the door creaked open.

She came in with a box of plasters taped clumsily around her thumb.

"Slammed my hand in the sliding door," she muttered as she sat down.

"Are you okay?"

"It only hurts when I write. So just... most of the time."

I rummaged through my pencil case, pulled out my favorite mechanical pencil, and offered it to her.

"It's light. You won't need to press as hard."

She looked at me like I'd just handed her the moon.

"Thanks."

Her fingers brushed mine. A jolt, like static, zipped through me.

It was the first time I realized how small her hands were.

That afternoon, she waited for me after class.

"You don't have to walk me home," she said, not meeting my eyes.

"I'm not. I just happen to be going in the exact same direction."

She smiled.

We ended up at the train station. Her stop was two before mine. The whole ride, we stood side by side, swaying with the rhythm of the tracks.

"Hey," I said just before she got off. "Why did you take summer school? You're already good at math."

She looked surprised.

"I wanted to... feel like I was good at something, I guess. People don't usually notice me. But when I solve a problem first, I feel like I exist a little more."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I said the truth.

"I notice you."

She turned pink.

Then the doors opened, and she was gone.

That night, I reread every letter in my drawer.

All five of them.

They were beautiful, honest, kind—but they didn't feel like her.
Not anymore.

I was starting to feel something I hadn't planned for.
Not a crush. Not an obsession.
Something... warmer.

Sora Ichinose was starting to matter more than any secret admirer ever could.

But the universe, as always, had a sense of irony.

Because the next day at school, I opened my locker and found a sixth letter.

"You seem happy lately. I hope she deserves that smile.
But I can't help wondering... if I told you it was me, would you look at me the same?"

This one was different. Sadder. Closer. It read like someone who knew me.

It read like Hana.