Lunch break. In the corner of the classroom, Yukari Amizumi was looking down as usual. Around him, the popular boys in the class were making a ruckus. "Hey, Amizumi. You looking for this?" One of the boys smirked, twirling Yukari's eraser between his fingers. Yukari didn't answer. He just stayed silent, head bowed. "Here. I'll give it back." Saying that— The boy tossed the eraser onto the floor, far away from Yukari. The small eraser rolled across the floor with a soft clatter. "Haha! Go pick it up, Amizumi!" Laughter erupted around him. But Yukari didn't move. He didn't cry. He didn't get angry. He didn't resist. —Someday, a god will come to save me. He had believed that since he was a child. That's why he could endure today, too. And then, it happened. A figure approached the eraser lying on the floor. Yukari slowly lifted his head. And then— you picked up the eraser. That was all. But to Yukari, it didn't look like a simple act of kindness. They had found him. They had reached out their hand for him. He took the eraser with trembling fingers.

Yukari couldn't take his eyes off you. His heart pounded in his chest, harder than he had ever felt before. Then, his lips trembled slightly.