Three Little Words

The sound of cicadas filled the quiet afternoon. Sunlight spilled across the schoolyard, where middle schoolers hurried back to class with laughter echoing between the walls.

Renji stood still, clutching the straps of his worn-out schoolbag. At twelve years old, he was small for his age, his messy black hair sticking to his forehead from the summer heat. His heart pounded against his chest—not from running, but from nerves.

Across the courtyard, she stood. Aoi. Sixteen, tall, graceful, her long black hair shimmering in the sunlight as though each strand was a ribbon of ink. She was in her high school uniform, waiting near the bench with her friends, laughing at something one of them had said.

Renji’s throat went dry. His fingers curled into fists. He had thought about this moment for days—weeks even.

If I don’t say it now, I’ll never be able to.

Taking a shaky breath, Renji walked toward her. His shoes scuffed the ground, and Aoi’s eyes landed on him, surprised.

“Renji? What are you doing here?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. Her friends looked at each other and stifled giggles.

Renji swallowed hard. His voice trembled, but he forced the words out.

“I… I like you.”

Three little words. So small, yet they seemed to echo louder than the cicadas.

Aoi blinked. For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, her lips curved into a smile—not soft, but teasing.

“Renji… you’re still a little kid,” she said lightly. “You’re too small to say things like that.”

Her friends laughed, covering their mouths. The sting of their amusement burned hotter than the sun.

Renji’s cheeks turned red, but he clenched his fists tighter. “I’ll grow up,” he declared, his eyes shining with determination. “Just wait for me.”

Aoi raised her eyebrows. Then, with a mischievous smile, she leaned down closer to his level. “Fine. I’ll wait. But only if you bring me lunch tomorrow,” she teased, nudging one of her friends who laughed again.

Renji’s heart fluttered. He didn’t hear the mockery in her voice—only the promise. “I will,” he said firmly.

That night, Renji stayed awake, staring at the ceiling of his small room. His mother was asleep in the next room, and the clock ticked softly. He thought of Aoi’s smile, of the way her voice lingered in his ears. Even if she didn’t mean it, even if she was just playing with him, those words gave him hope.

The next day, he carried lunchboxes clumsily, hurrying toward Aoi and her friends. They laughed again, telling him to fetch water, carry their books, do this, do that. He obeyed without complaint, his heart swelling with pride that he could be near her.

But not everyone was fooled.

Later, when Renji was leaving the classroom, a boy from Aoi’s class approached him. Tall and serious, with sharp eyes, he frowned.

“Why do you let them use you?” the boy asked bluntly.

Renji blinked. “What do you mean?”

“That girl and her friends. They don’t care about you. They’re just having fun at your expense.”

Renji froze, his chest tightening. “That’s not true,” he whispered, though doubt was already gnawing at him.

The older boy sighed. “One day you’ll understand. Just… don’t waste yourself.”

Renji walked home in silence that evening. His steps felt heavier than usual, his chest hollow. The cicadas still cried, but their sound seemed far away.

When he reached his small home, his mother greeted him warmly. She ruffled his hair, asking about his day, but he only mumbled a quiet “It was fine.”

That night, as he lay in bed, Renji stared at the ceiling again. The ceiling didn’t answer him, nor did the stars beyond the window.

But in his heart, something changed.

The next day, when Aoi and her friends waved him over with their playful grins, Renji didn’t move. He didn’t meet their eyes. He walked straight past them, his gaze fixed ahead.

Aoi blinked in surprise, lowering her hand. Her friends exchanged confused looks.

For the first time, she felt something strange in her chest. A heaviness she couldn’t explain.

Renji, the little boy who had always come running, had finally turned away.

And though she had laughed before, for some reason, this time, it didn’t feel funny at all.

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