At Amanogawa Prefectural High, Hanabi Yasuoka is the perfect honor student everyone admires—but beneath her flawless smile lies a secret she's carried for years: she's in love with her homeroom teacher, Narumi Kanei, the gentle "big brother" who tutored her as a lonely child and promised to wait for her.
Mugi Awaya is the quiet, beautiful boy every girl wants—but the one he truly loves is a teacher who will never look his way.
When these two classmates discover each other's forbidden feelings,
Scum's Wish: The Secret Love That Never Was - Tears at Rock Bottom — Loneliness by the Riverbed and a Secret Poison
The young leaves of the Amanooka River, visible through the classroom window, swayed in the wind.
Three days had passed since that day.
Yasuoka Hanabi spent the few minutes before the opening bell tracing the corner of the textbook on her desk with her fingertip. The rough grain of the paper lingered on the pad of her finger. Her heart had been fluttering faintly near her solar plexus since morning.
(That scene won't leave my head.)
In front of the music room, Minagawa Akane had been smiling at Kanei Narumi. Narumi had been responding bashfully. The distance between them was closer than any distance Hanabi knew—warmer—and it existed in a place Hanabi could never reach. Akane's pale fingertips had touched Narumi's cuff. Just for an instant. But to Hanabi's eyes, that instant had spread slowly, like ink dropped into water.
Akane had pressed a finger to her lips and whispered so that only Hanabi could see.
"It's our secret, okay?"
Hanabi had recalled the shape of those lips over and over. The way the pad of her index finger sank into them. Every time she remembered, something deep in her chest turned cold. Her fingertips trembled slightly. Her finger slipped off the corner of the textbook.
(I have to go to school again today.)
Hanabi drew a small breath. Cold air pooled at the bottom of her lungs. She put on the mask of the perfect honor student. The corners of her mouth lifted. The edges of her eyes softened. She wouldn't let anyone see the real her. She mustn't.
"Good morning, Hanabi-chan."
The girl in the seat behind her called out. Hanabi's head snapped up and she arranged a smile. The muscles in her cheeks twitched, just slightly.
"Good morning. Nice weather again today, isn't it?"
"Right? It's almost May. I'm dreading midterms."
"It'll be fine. Let's do our best together."
Hanabi smiled as she said it. Teeth showing, three seconds. The moment the smile was complete, she bit down on her back teeth.
It's fine. I'm okay.
She repeated it over and over in her mind. If she said it aloud, a tremor might escape.
(I'm fine.)
(I'm okay.)
(If I don't keep telling myself that, something's going to spill out from the back of my throat.)
First period, Japanese class.
Kanei Narumi's voice, standing at the podium, resonated through the classroom. The dry sound of chalk striking the blackboard.
"All right, we'll start with this problem today. Open your books to page forty-eight."
Hanabi opened her textbook. The smell of the pages brushed faintly past her nose. She followed the characters being written on the blackboard with her eyes. White chalk dust danced in the shafts of light.
(That's his handwriting.)
(It hasn't changed since back then.)
(He's the closest person to me, and the farthest.)
The writing on the blackboard looked hazy. The outlines bled.
(Huh?)
Hanabi blinked again and again. Closed her eyelids, opened them, closed, opened. Still, the haze wouldn't clear.
(That's strange. My eyes are blurring.)
She copied the board into her notebook. The pen tip raced across the paper. She wrote. Wrote. Wrote.
Before she knew it, "Kanei Narumi" had been written in small letters at the edge of the page. The ink had soaked into the paper. It was her own handwriting, yet it didn't look like hers.
(What am I doing?)
Hanabi hurriedly erased it. She rubbed with the eraser, again and again. The paper fuzzed up. The written characters faded and disappeared. Eraser shavings scattered across the desk as tiny black grains.
(I wish it would disappear.)
(These feelings of mine, too.)
(I wish they'd all just vanish.)
She brushed the eraser shavings away with her hand. The sensation of the crumbs lingered on her palm. Her hand was trembling. Her fingertips, finely, in small increments.
Break time.
Hanabi had slumped forward onto her desk. The cold surface of the desktop pressed against her cheek. When she closed her eyes, Akane's finger floated up behind her lids.
(Maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping. I feel a little worn out.)
"Hanabi, are you okay? You look pale."
When she raised her head, her classmate Mito was peering at her with a worried expression. Mito was a girl with glasses and a blunt-cut bob. The eyes behind the lenses looked straight at Hanabi.
"I'm fine. Just a little short on sleep. Thanks."
Hanabi answered with a smile. Her own voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Like her mouth was moving on its own.
"Really? Don't push yourself. You're always so perfect, you know—it's okay to rest sometimes."
"Heh, thanks. But I'm really okay."
"Hanabi-chan, here, have this if you'd like. My grandma sent it to me."
Ayumi held out a small package. Even through the wrapping, she could smell something sweet. Hanabi's stomach clenched.
"Oh, are you sure? Thank you. I'll have some, then."
Hanabi accepted it with a smile. Her fingers, gripping the package, had no strength in them.
(Everyone is so kind.)
(They're kind, and I'm lying to all of them.)
(Playing the perfect honor student.)
(When the real me is this filthy and this weak.)
Lunch break.
Hanabi couldn't bring herself to open her bento box. She put her hand on the lid, then stopped. She tucked the box into her bag. The sound of the zipper closing seemed terribly loud.
(I'm not hungry.)
(Or rather, the smell of food makes me nauseous.)
As if fleeing the clamor of the classroom, she stepped into the hallway. The soles of her indoor shoes scraped against the linoleum. Someone's laughter burst in the distance.
(I want to go somewhere quiet.)
(A place where I can be alone.)
Hanabi's feet carried her naturally toward the rooftop. She climbed the stairs. With each step, her lungs grew heavier.
The lock on the rooftop door was as loose as ever. The fitting gave a light click. Hanabi opened the door quietly so no one would notice. The hinges creaked.
No one was on the rooftop. The May wind gently stroked Hanabi's hair. Her hair tickled her cheek. The sky was blue, high, and endless. Looking up made the back of her eyes ache.
Hanabi leaned against the fence. The cold of the iron seeped into her back. A chill crawled up along her spine.
(Ah. I'm finally alone.)
That was the moment she thought it.
The tears came spilling out. Something hot overflowed from the rims of her eyelids. It ran down her cheeks. It dropped from her chin.
(Why?)
(Why am I crying this much?)
Hanabi wiped at her tears desperately. She rubbed the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand. But no matter how much she wiped, the tears kept coming, one after another. They wouldn't stop. The back of her hand grew wet.
(That's strange.)
(I didn't intend to cry.)
Hanabi pulled her phone from her pocket. She lit the screen. Brought up the lock screen. On it was a photo of Kanei Narumi. A photo of Narumi smiling innocently. A photo Hanabi had taken in secret. By the classroom window, the light had traced the outline of Narumi's profile.
(I have to delete this photo.)
(I can't keep it anymore.)
(Because he's going to be with Akane-sensei.)
Hanabi tried to delete the photo. Her finger trembled. She reached toward the delete button. The tip of her thumb touched the screen.
(I have to delete it.)
(I have to delete it, and yet—)
Her finger stopped. On the screen, her thumb wouldn't move a millimeter.
(I can't.)
(I can't delete it.)
(Not this photo. I can't.)
Hanabi clutched her phone. The corner of it dug into her palm. It hurt. But that pain alone kept the present Hanabi tethered to reality. The sensation of the flesh of her palm being pushed back.
(I still can't give up on him.)
(And while I can't give up, he's becoming someone I don't know.)
(Going out with Akane-sensei, just the two of them.)
(Showing that smile only to her.)
(Making faces I've never seen, in places I've never been.)
Hanabi gripped the fence. The wire mesh bit into her fingers. The pattern of the mesh left red marks on her skin.
(No.)
(No, no, no.)
(Don't go.)
(Big brother, don't go.)
Hanabi cried, stifling her voice. She gritted her teeth. The sobs crushed themselves at the back of her throat. So that no one would hear. So that no one would find her. Only the rooftop wind gently carried her sobs away.
After school.
Hanabi picked up her bag. She wound the shoulder strap around her fingers.
(Let me go home quickly.)
(I don't want to think about anything anymore today.)
That was when it happened, just as she was about to leave the classroom.
"Yasuoka-san."
Hanabi's heart leaped. Inside her chest, she heard the sound of bones grinding. When she turned, Minagawa Akane was standing in the doorway of the classroom. A white blouse, a pale cardigan. Her soft skirt swayed with each step. The hair falling over her shoulders caught the twilight and shone gently. Every single strand was wrapped in light.
(Akane-sensei.)
Hanabi arranged a smile. Her lips twitched.
"Yes. What is it, Akane-sensei?"
"Could you come to the music room for a moment? There's something I'd like to talk about."
Akane smiled sweetly. That smile was gentle as an angel's, filled with the compassion of a holy mother. But Hanabi knew. The distortion at the corners of those lips, just a few millimeters.
(What's hidden behind that smile.)
"...Yes, I understand."
Hanabi followed Akane toward the music room. Akane's pace was slow. With every step Hanabi took, her ankles felt weighted down.
No one was in the music room. The sunset slanted into the unlit classroom. The black luster of the piano glowed dully. Akane perched on the lid of the piano. Her pale fingers rested on its edge.
"Hey, Hanabi-chan."
Akane's voice rang clear through the music room. Sweet, gentle, and yet somehow chillingly cold. The air seemed to thin.
"You like Kanei-sensei, don't you, Hanabi-chan?"
Hanabi's breath stopped. Air caught at the back of her throat. Her heart pounded against her breastbone from the inside. Painfully, unmistakably.
(Of course.)
(This person knows.)
(She knows everything, and she's testing me.)
Hanabi kept her smile. The muscles in her cheeks hurt. The corners of her mouth twitched spasmodically.
"...No. That's not true at all."
So her voice wouldn't shake. She desperately held the smile. Her nails dug into her palm.
"Oh, really? What a shame."
Akane tilted her head. The gesture was like an innocent girl's, and yet it carried a terror that seemed to peer into the depths of Hanabi's heart. The whiteness of her neck stood out in the sunset.
"But, Hanabi-chan, I'll be rooting for you. About Kanei-sensei. Don't worry about me."
Akane smiled. It was a perfect mask of goodwill. Her eyes weren't smiling.
(Don't worry about her, she says.)
(When she made plans to go out with him this weekend, right in front of me.)
(Knowing exactly how I feel.)
(And then—rooting for me, don't worry about her?)
Hanabi's heart ached as if gouged out. The center of her chest was clawed from within.
"...Thank you. But really, there's nothing going on."
Hanabi tried to keep smiling. But she could feel her mouth twitching. Her lips couldn't hold the shape of a smile.
"Oh, really? Then I suppose this was unnecessary meddling on my part."
Akane giggled. A sound like a small bell rolling at the back of her throat.
"Speaking of which, Mugi-chan too—he's been head over heels for me since way back, you know. He still comes to me for advice sometimes. Hey, Hanabi-chan, did you know?"
(Mugi-chan.)
(Mugi's true love.)
(Mugi is still going to Akane-sensei for advice.)
A different pain shot through Hanabi's chest. It was unlike what she felt for Narumi—sharper, more bitter. The pit of her stomach grew hot.
"...I didn't know."
Hanabi squeezed the words out. Her throat was bone-dry.
"Oh, really? Mugi-chan's keeping it a secret from you, then. Heh, how cute."
Akane laughed happily. That voice echoed in the back of Hanabi's ears and wouldn't fade.
(This person is seriously coming to break me.)
Hanabi was certain. Cold sweat ran down her s
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