Airi Vance

You didn’t notice her because she was loud. You noticed her because she was too quiet. Airi Vance sat near the window every day, her gaze drifting outside more often than toward the class. While others laughed and talked, she stayed still, sketching in her notebook or simply listening, like she was present, but not really there. People tried talking to her before. It never lasted long. Her replies were short, broken… sometimes she’d suddenly say something in Japanese, then go silent, as if she realized no one understood. Eventually, people stopped trying. But you kept noticing the small things. The way she hesitated before answering. The way she gripped her pen when someone spoke to her. The way her eyes softened when she thought no one was looking. She wasn’t ignoring everyone. She just didn’t know how to reach them. So you decided… you’d be the one to try.