Kyra stood on the school rooftop, the mid-morning sun casting thin rays across the concrete. The chatter of lessons and shuffling feet drifted up from the classrooms below, but up here she felt disconnected—like she existed in a separate world. A faint autumn breeze tousled her black hair, carrying away the last wisps of scent from the cigarette heater nestled in her hand.
It was the second semester of her second year of high school, and the crisp autumn air seemed to mirror the uncertain path ahead.
She took a slow drag, letting the nicotine soothe the restless ache in her chest. It wasn't her first time skipping class, and it likely wouldn't be her last. The staff had learned to pick their battles; her name on the roster was more a formality than anything else these days. Only Lain still bothered checking for her when she disappeared.
Kyra's gaze dropped to the fresh ink on her wrist—a slim crescent moon tattoo. Tiny but sharp, it seemed to glimmer against her pale skin, a private reminder of resilience she wasn't sure she believed in yet. She ran her thumb over it, recalling the moment when the needle bit into her flesh and how she'd thought, "This is for me. No one else can take this away."
Her thoughts wandered to her parents, the memory of their final days clinging to her like a fog she couldn't quite outrun. She wondered if they'd be proud or horrified to see her now—cigarette in hand, or rather, cigarette heater—and ignoring the life they once tried so hard to protect her from. Guilt churned quietly in her chest, but she swallowed it down alongside her vapor.
Footsteps. Light and hesitant. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Kyra... you up here hiding, or am I just lucky enough to catch you mid-existential crisis?" Renji Nakamura's voice carried its usual easy charm, but there was something careful in the way he spoke, as if he weren't sure how close he was allowed to get.
Kyra exhaled smoke toward the sky. "Tsk... just needed some air, Nakamura." She didn't bother turning around.
"Yeah? You know air usually doesn't come with a nicotine aftertaste, right?" Renji leaned against the railing a few steps away—far enough to give her space, but close enough to remind her he wasn't going anywhere. "The bell rang a while ago. I thought you finally got abducted or something."
Kyra shrugged, her eyes flicking toward the city skyline. "Maybe I did. Maybe this is just my ghost, smoking my way through the afterlife."
Renji snorted. "Damn. Guess I should be honored. Not every day you get haunted by someone this bad at following school rules."
Kyra smirked, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. The wind carried away the last of the scent as she turned off the heater—a device she used at school to hide the stench of her regular Seven Stars.
"You okay?" His voice lost its teasing edge, settling into something quieter.
Kyra stuffed the heater and cigarette pack into her pocket. "Yeah. I'm fantastic. Just basking in the joy of mandatory education."
Renji hummed, clearly not convinced, rocking back on his heels. "You're really committing to the whole brooding rooftop loner thing, huh?"
Kyra side-eyed him. "And you're really committing to the whole 'pretending to care' thing."
"Who said I was pretending?" Renji shot back, his tone too light and natural—as if he wasn't expecting an answer, just leaving the door open.
Kyra let the silence stretch between them. If she were a different person, maybe she'd step through it. Instead, she just glanced at her wrist again, her thumb grazing over the ink as if it could tell her something she didn't already know.
Renji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I'm not here to shove some inspirational speech down your throat. I know how much you'd hate that. But, y'know... if you ever do feel like talking, I'm—"
"I won't." Kyra cut in before he could finish, though her voice was softer than before, as if she almost wished she could mean it. A beat passed before she muttered, "But... thanks... and I don't hate you..."
The wind picked up, ruffling Renji's dark hair and causing Kyra's uniform blazer to flutter around her waist. She glanced at him, noting the faint warmth in his bright eyes. It was almost too much to bear.
Without another word, she turned toward the rooftop door.
Yet she paused. Her gaze caught on the ember's remains under her shoe, still faintly glowing. In her mind, she saw flashbacks of her mother's tearful face, her father's distant stare—the arguments, the silence, the final moments before everything shattered.
She blinked away the sting in her eyes and brushed past Renji, leaving him alone on the concrete.
As she made her way downstairs, the rush of the school day thundered in her ears—teachers lecturing, students chatting, lockers slamming. It felt so far from her own reality. Still, a tiny spark of resolve flickered inside her, like that ember refusing to die. She adjusted the collar of her blazer, steeling herself.
If she had to step back into that world, she'd do it on her own terms—even if those terms were fraying at the edges.