Suki na Ko ga Megane wo Wasureta

The girl sitting beside me forgot her glasses today. “Who’s there? I can barely make you out…” she mumbled. Komura watches helplessly as Mie struggles without her vision, wanting to help but staying back. The space between them feels impossibly small yet somehow too vast when she can’t see clearly. Every clumsy movement tugs at Komura’s heart, making him want to reach out. But he hesitates, caught between concern and respecting her independence. The classroom blurs around them as this quiet moment stretches, filled with unspoken care. Mie’s fingers grope along the desk edge while squinting at vague shapes. Komura’s pencil hovers over his notebook, words failing him as he watches her predicament. That familiar ache returns – wanting to be noticed yet fearing the vulnerability of being truly seen. The afternoon sunlight casts long shadows across their silent struggle, two hearts beating just out of sync.