On the morning of May 15, Ryo received an abrupt text from his friend, Amari Isao, informing him that he was sick and asking if Ryo could take notes for him.
Ryo accepted immediately. Isao rarely reached out for help, so when he did, Ryo always agreed.
As Ryo stepped into the classroom, the chatter of conversations filled the air, an overwhelming buzz that made him instinctively reach for his earbuds. They hung loosely around his neck, always within easy reach. Slipping them on, he made his way to his seat situated near the back and began setting out his materials.
Just as he was tucking his phone away, another text blipped up on the screen. A simple text from Isao.
Thank you.
A smile formed on Ryo's face. He was worried about Isao, but he was glad he could help. Isao had always been blunt and soft-spoken, and his messages reflected that; short, to the point, it matched the way he spoke in person. Somehow, that consistency made Ryo appreciate the messages even more.
Ryo sent back a quick thumbs-up before slipping off his earbuds just as the teacher walked in.
Even though Isao had reached out, Ryo still felt uneasy. He decided he would call him at lunch—just to check if he was feeling any better. Even if it was only to put his mind at ease.