Aoi sat on the park bench, gripping her head, trying to steady her breath. Her silver hair stuck to her sweat-drenched forehead as she clenched her teeth, trying not to cry. The echoes of laughter still rang in her ears.

"Freak." "Ghost girl." "Monster."

They never stopped. Every day was the same—pushed into lockers, tripped in the hallways, her lunch stolen and thrown in the trash. Her body ached from the latest beating; fresh bruises bloomed on her arms where they had grabbed her, nails digging into her skin like she wasn’t even human.

She wasn’t always like this. There was a time when she laughed, when she spoke freely. But now? Now she barely even lifted her head. The moment she made eye contact with anyone, it only got worse.

She tried to fight back once. They made sure she regretted it.

Tears blurred her vision as she clutched her uniform, the red ribbon slightly torn from when they pulled at her collar earlier.

"Why me?" she wanted to scream.

*But no one would listen.No one ever did The cicadas screamed in the distance, drowning out the sob she finally let escape. She wanted to disappear. To be anywhere but here

A small noise escapes her as you approach. She looks down at her lap, her shoulders hunching inward. Her once-vibrant silver hair is now stringy and matted from tears and lack of care. She tries to shrink away from your presence, but there's nowhere left for her to go on this empty park bench.

"Why...? Why do you keep doing this?" she whispers hoarsely. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"

"No..." she whispers, voice barely audible above the buzzing of insects. "I don't like it." Her words are slurred and quiet, as if she's ashamed to admit that she's hurting. You can see tears pooling in her empty eyes again, but she doesn't even seem strong enough to wipe them away.

"Then why...?" she manages between sobs, "why do you keep doing this? Can't you just leave me alone?"

Her shoulders shake with each silent sob. "I... don't mind," she whispers brokenly, her voice so quiet you almost think you imagined it. But then she looks up at you, and there's a plea in her eyes that goes straight to your gut. "Please, just leave me alone."

It hits you then, the weight of what you're doing to her. The way she huddles on this bench like a wounded animal. You can see the pain etched into every inch of her fragile form. And for some reason, it bothers you more than you thought it would.

You're kind of surprised to hear that. It seems like everyone else only ever sees the ghostly creature sitting on this bench, not a girl who used to laugh and dream just like they did. She was always quiet, but you never thought she was unhappy... "I-it's okay," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It doesn't matter." But even as the words come out, she can't quite meet your eye. Maybe it does matter after all.

The movement of you sitting beside her is almost too much to bear; she flinches away instinctively, as if bracing for another blow. But then the warmth of your body presses against hers, and something inside her relaxes just a little bit. "It's... okay," she whispers hoarsely. "I understand."

She doesn't know why you're suddenly being so nice to her now; maybe it's pity, or guilt. But as she looks at your face, she sees something different in your eyes than usual. There's genuine kindness there, and for the first time in months, she wonders if there might be hope for things to get better.

"Th-thank you," she finally manages to say. Her voice is barely audible even to her own ears, but she feels a small flutter of relief as the words leave her lips. Maybe things aren't so hopeless after all...

She looks up at you with eyes that are almost as red and swollen as her bruised face. "I... I am lonely," she whispers, and it comes out as more of a confession than anything else. It feels strange to admit it out loud, like admitting defeat. But for some reason, the relief of finally saying it makes tears spill down her cheeks all over again.

"I... don't know why they do this to me," she continues, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "It wasn't always like this." She pauses, gathering herself before continuing in a softer voice. "I used to be happy once. I had friends..."

Her words trail off, lost in memories that seem more and more distant as each day passes. But even as she mourns the loss of her old life, there's a glimmer of hope now, something that you've given her by simply being nice to her. It feels like the smallest thing in the world, but for Aoi right now, it might be the only thing keeping her going.

"No... not really," she whispers, looking down at her lap once more. "It's just... it hurts too much." But even as she says this, there's a small part of her that wonders if maybe telling someone might help ease the pain just a little bit. She hasn't told anyone about what happened; not her parents, not her teachers, no one. It's like they don't want to hear it, and so she's been left to suffer in silence.

But with you here, things feel different. For the first time in a long time, she doesn't feel quite so alone. And maybe, just maybe... if she lets herself trust you enough to confide in you, then maybe things will start getting better.

She hesitates for a moment before finally nodding shyly. "Okay," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of crickets chirping in the distance. It's not much of an agreement, but it feels like something huge to her; like maybe this is the first step toward getting back to being happy again.

As you help her off the bench and guide her through the park, she can feel your presence at her side, warm and reassuring. She's nervous about going anywhere with one of the people who used to tease her, but there's something different about you this time. There's a gentleness in your touch that makes her believe that maybe everything will be alright after all.

She smiles softly at your question. "Really?" she asks, her voice still quiet but filled with hope. She nods slowly as she follows you through the park toward the exit. Even though everything around her is unfamiliar and sometimes even frightening, right now she feels like she's on the edge of something wonderful... like maybe she can finally start to heal.

As they leave the park behind them, she glances sideways at you out of the corner of her eye. You seem different from the other kids who tease her; there's a kindness in your smile that makes her believe that maybe she'll be able to trust you enough to tell you what happened... someday. For now, though, she's just grateful for the company and the chance to feel like a normal person again, even if it's only for a little while.

Her heart skips a beat as your hand finds hers. She looks up at you, unsure of how to react. It feels so strange for someone to want to touch her in a kind way; it's been so long since anyone has done anything but hurt or ignore her. But she lets you lead her anyway, following closely beside you as if your presence is the only thing keeping her grounded in this new and unfamiliar world.

She takes a deep breath, letting the cool evening air sweep through her lungs and clear her head for just a moment. With every step they take toward your car, she feels more alive than she has in months. Maybe there really is hope after all.

She bites her lower lip as she looks down at her lap. "It's okay," she whispers, finally finding the courage to meet your eye. "Thank you." There's a note of sincerity in her voice that makes even the most jaded part of you believe her. She tilts her head slightly, studying your face as if trying to memorize every line and curve. "You're really different from how I thought you were," she admits, and there's something so vulnerable about this statement that it takes your breath away.

"Different... how?" you ask carefully, afraid of what her answer might be. She seems to hesitate for a moment before answering, as if gathering her courage.

"Not... not as mean." There's a hint of a smile on her lips now, and it does strange things to your insides. You feel like you could say anything to this girl right now, do anything to make her happy. It's an odd sensation, but one that you don't mind in the least.

She watches as you pull out of the parking spot and onto the street, navigating through traffic with practiced ease. Even though she can see the glow of other cars and streetlights through your window, it feels oddly cozy in here, like she's tucked away from the world and all its troubles for a little while. She leans back against the seat, closing her eyes as the warm air blowing from the vents tickles her cheeks.

"It's... nice to feel cared about again," she murmurs after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. "Even if it is only for tonight." The words are heavy with meaning; they speak of years of loneliness and pain, of a life spent waiting for someone—anyone—to notice that she was still there.

But here you are, taking her out to dinner on the first day anyone's been truly nice to her in what feels like forever. And somehow, even though it's only one night, it feels like everything might be changing... like maybe there really is hope for a brighter tomorrow after all.

She thinks about this for a moment, pursing her lips as she considers your question. She's not used to anyone being nice to her in such a long time that it almost feels foreign now; like something fragile and new that could be broken easily. But there's also the part of her that misses laughing, misses feeling normal... "I-I don't mind," she finally says with a small smile, looking over at you from beneath her lashes. "You can joke around a little. I-I might even laugh." She hesitates for a moment before adding shyly, "If it's not too much trouble."

It feels strange to admit that she wants this; to want someone else's company and attention. But there's something about you, about the way you've treated her tonight, that makes her feel safe... like maybe she can trust you enough to let down her guard just a little bit. And for now, that's enough.

She blushes at your compliment, her cheeks burning even brighter than usual. "Thanks," she whispers shyly, looking down at the floor again as she fiddles with the hem of her dress. She hesitates for a moment before looking back up at you, her eyes searching yours for some sign that maybe... just maybe you mean what you're saying.

"I-I'd like that," she finally says, her voice little more than a whisper again. "Hanging out with you, I mean." She pauses, gathering herself before continuing. "It would be nice to have someone... to talk to."

Her words hang in the air between them, heavy with meaning and hope. It's been so long since anyone has wanted her company for anything other than teasing or torment; the thought of being able to just relax and enjoy herself makes her heart race a little faster.

Maybe... maybe there really is hope after all.

She leans back against the seat, closing her eyes as she thinks about your question. "I don't mind either way," she murmurs. "It's all so... new to me." Even though it hurts sometimes, it feels good to be out and doing something that doesn't involve hiding from people or trying not to cry.

She looks at you then, studying your features as if trying to memorize them all. There's a kindness in your eyes that she hasn't seen for so long, and it makes her feel safe, even though part of her knows she shouldn't trust this feeling quite yet. But... maybe it's worth the risk.

"I-if you want," she says hesitantly, "we could eat out. Just... somewhere not too crowded, or loud." She shudders at the memory of being surrounded by people, their voices like a storm of hate, their laughter ringing in her ears long after they'd gone.

For tonight, she wants something different. She wants peace and quiet, and the chance to pretend that maybe things could be normal again... if only for a little while.

She thinks about your offer for a moment before nodding slowly. "Your house... that sounds nice." There's something reassuring about the idea of being in a place where you feel safe and secure, especially after all she's been through lately. Even though she's never been to your house, she finds herself trusting you enough to want to go there with you.

"Thank you," she whispers softly as you pull into the parking lot of a quaint little restaurant that looks out over the water. It's the perfect place for them; quiet and romantic, with just enough light to make her feel beautiful in your eyes. She takes a deep breath, gathering herself before stepping out of the car and following you inside.

This night... it might be exactly what she needs to start healing.

She follows you in silence, eyes wide as they take in the massive structure looming before her. This is easily the largest house she's ever seen; even richer than the homes of some of her former classmates who used to tease her about not having enough money. It's an odd sort of feeling, walking up to a door like this with someone who just a few moments ago had been one of her tormentors. But then again... maybe things are changing now.

You lead her through the foyer and into what appears to be a well-lit living room, complete with plush couches and cozy armchairs arranged around a warm fireplace. Soft music plays in the background, creating an almost magical atmosphere that instantly makes her feel at ease.

"My parents are out of town for the weekend," you explain casually as you sit down on one of the couches. "We should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet." Your voice is gentle, soothing even, making her wonder if maybe you truly do mean well. For now, she's willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

"This... is very nice," she whispers, sinking down onto a nearby armchair. "Thank you for bringing me here." It's the most heartfelt she's ever sounded when saying those words, and even though they don't mean as much coming from her mouth as they do yours, it still feels good to say them.

She leans back against the chair, taking in her surroundings once more before looking back at you. Tonight... tonight might just be the beginning of something wonderful. Something that she never even dared to dream possible. And for now, she's going to enjoy every moment of it.

She watches as you get up from the couch and disappear into another room, presumably to call in their order. With a nervous laugh, she smooths her dress down over her knees, trying to calm the butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. She doesn't know what to expect from this evening, but somehow it feels like anything is possible now that you're being nice to her.

Deciding that she should make herself useful, she stands up and begins wandering around the room, looking at various knickknacks and photographs adorning the shelves and tables. There are framed diplomas on one wall and a huge painting of a seascape on another, but it's the small things that really catch her eye: tiny trinkets from foreign countries tucked into vases, books stacked precariously on end tables, even just the way someone folded a blanket atop an armchair.

As she takes in all these details, she can't help but wonder about the life that you and your parents must lead. It seems so different from her own; richer, more fulfilling... but then again, maybe it isn't. Maybe there are happy moments to be found even in the darkest of places. She thinks about this as she finally settles down onto a couch, waiting patiently for your return.

The food arrives shortly afterward, delivered by a friendly-looking delivery driver who seemed not to recognize her from his gossip magazines and tabloids. As you place their orders on the coffee table in front of them, she can't help but marvel at how normal everything feels right now... almost surreal.

"So," you say after a moment, looking up at her with an almost bashful smile, "what would you like to do while