Side: Yuna Fuyushiro – "The Princess’s Melancholy"

I’ve always felt like there’s a hole in my body, like I’m living with something missing.

Every change of season, I’m guaranteed to get sick. Barometric pressure swings hit me hard, and with my asthma, intense exercise is out of the question. The health room at school practically has a desk reserved just for me.

Running a fever over 37°C is just another day, and feeling vaguely unwell is my default state.

Our family runs a hospital, so I’ve been tested countless times, but they never find anything wrong. I’m just… frail. It’s not like I’m dying, and there’s no miracle cure, but it’s still exhausting. My parents always said it was my fault for not trying hard enough, and that stung.

They say to strengthen your body, you should exercise moderately and eat three solid meals a day. But my body can’t handle “moderate” exercise, and my stomach’s so small that overeating makes me nauseous.

So, I stayed indoors, reading books to keep my condition from worsening.

When I was little, I’d push myself to play outside with friends, desperate for connection. But I’d get dizzy fast and end up in our hospital. Seeing a friend’s mom go pale and apologize profusely, I realized my selfish whims could burden others. That’s when I learned.

I never really made friends and graduated elementary school that way, moving on to middle school.

I’d long understood my family’s situation. As the only heir to a major hospital, I don’t have the option not to take over.

Truth is, I don’t want to be a doctor. But political marriages? Absolutely not. And if you asked what else I could do, I’ve got nothing to say. No dreams, no talents.

With this hole-riddled body, anything I try to grasp just slips through.

I want to change my life, but my body won’t cooperate. Sometimes, I think it’d be easier to just give up.

Still, I couldn’t let go. One day after school, when my ride was running late, I dragged my sluggish body to the library to look for books on fashion design. Home ec class had been fun—such a simple reason. I know it’s naive, but I was desperate for any path besides medicine.

While flipping through books, lost in the moment, a dull pain shot through my head like a stake being driven in. I collapsed. I usually lie down before it gets this bad, but I’d pushed myself too far because I was actually enjoying it.

“Medicine…”

In my fading consciousness, I fumbled through my pocket for my usual pills.

I should’ve stopped. It’s hopeless. Nothing changes. It’s all pointless. My head spun, heavy, unbearable. I was done with this life.

I shouldn’t have wanted to change.

Tears spilled out naturally. Too weak to wipe them, I curled up on the floor, sensing someone enter the library.

Please don’t notice. I prayed, but they walked right up to me.

The worst. I felt like I’d lose my mind. Someone seeing me this weak!

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me collapse!”

Sobbing and pleading, I looked up as he crouched beside me, silently taking my hand. That warm touch—I can still feel it.

He introduced himself as Midoriya Shiki, a classmate from the next class over.

I didn’t recognize him, so I figured he was from a different elementary school. Turns out, he’d transferred here in middle school.

Maybe he didn’t know people treated me like a princess—or a fragile object—but he started coming to the library almost every day to talk.

“Knowing you’ll just hear my whining, why do you keep coming? You’re such a weirdo,” I said.

“I don’t really have anywhere else to go. Plus, I like hearing stories from people who’re trying hard,” he replied.

“…I’m not trying that hard,” I muttered, annoyed.

He just smiled, not saying anything.

That wasn’t annoying, but it drove me nuts in a different way.

He’d listen to my complaints with a grin, but he barely talked about himself. That annoyed me.

His hands were always so warm. That annoyed me.

He’d happily eat the leftovers from my bento that I couldn’t finish. That annoyed me.

He was so kind to me but never confessed. That really annoyed me.

Every day, we’d talk about nothing important, and I learned more about him. He likes girls with long hair. He can play the piano. Useless facts for becoming a doctor, but they burrowed into the most precious part of my memory.

Lately, I’d been feeling better. Even with a slight fever, my body felt lighter. Studying next to him as he read made me more productive than usual.

I glanced at him. He was engrossed in his book. After a while, he closed it and set it on the desk, apparently finished.

“Was it good?”

“Really good.”

“Worth recommending?”

“Definitely. Read it if you feel like it.”

I took the book, flipping through it. Our hands brushed, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Shiki, you’re always reading. Ever think about being a writer?”

“Nah, not really.”

“You should. You’d be good at it.”

He laughed it off, but I meant it. He’s got this way of seeing things that’d make him a great storyteller.

Our talks went on like that, simple but comfortable. Slowly, I started to think maybe I could change my life with him by my side.

Scene break to present

“Ugh, just thinking about it pisses me off!” I snapped.

Miyu, my friend, was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Chill, Yuna! You’re gonna get swept up in her pace!”

“Don’t mock me!”

Suzu Asaba, Shiki’s childhood friend from elementary school.

Her family runs a major medical equipment company, closely tied to our hospital, so we’ve known each other since we were kids. We’re not exactly close, but she had the nerve to send me a DM on Instagrum with a cozy two-shot of her and Shiki. My blood ran cold.

I don’t know if Shiki told her or if she already knew, but she contacted me knowing we’re dating. She didn’t message again after that, but Shiki talks about her enough for me to know they’re tight.

Of course, I nodded along like I was totally fine with it. When he mentioned eating out with her or gaming at his place, I smiled and responded while pinching my thigh so hard it nearly bled.

I know Shiki doesn’t have many friends because of all his transfers, and telling him to ditch her might backfire. What if he took her side? I’d die.

Still, when he said he was moving to Tokyo alone, I got so anxious I messaged her, “Shiki’s my boyfriend, so please don’t visit his place alone.” It took forever, but she finally replied.

“Why? It’d make Shi-kun sad.”

“Shi-kun’s not yours yet, Yuna. I’m closer to him.”

When I showed Miyu the messages, she burst out laughing. “This girl’s wild.”

“Look, why don’t you just show Shiki how anxious you’re feeling? You don’t have to play the perfect Fuyushiro heiress around him,” she said.

“…That’s not me.”

“Ugh, stop being so stubborn,” Miyu teased. “Shiki’s tall, honest, kinda hot. He’s probably more popular than you think.”

“Shut up…”

When I confessed to him, I was so caught up in the moment, so sure of myself. I never imagined he’d reject me. Now that we’re together, I’m constantly terrified.

What if a cuter girl shows up? Someone more domestic, with a better personality? If a girl who’s perfect in every way falls head over heels for Shiki, would he still choose me?

Since he moved to Tokyo, my anxiety’s been through the roof. Every time I see Tokyo on TV or spot a cute girl in a crowd, I compare myself to her in the mirror and feel awful.

The first time I visited Tokyo alone, it was overwhelming—so many people, everything so dazzling. I couldn’t even tell where I was. It was terrifying.

I trust Shiki with all my heart.

But I know my family and status weigh on him. We can’t see each other often, and I can’t believe the girls around him wouldn’t fall for him.

I love him so much I want to do everything for him, but I messed up last time by rushing in. If it’s a problem money can solve, I’d fix it in a heartbeat, but Shiki hates that.

I know our values don’t always align, but we don’t even have time to sit down and talk it out face-to-face.

All I can do is desperately hold things together so they don’t fall apart.

A complaint slipped out before I could stop it.

“…I’m so done with long-distance. I just want to become a doctor already.”

Miyu blinked. “Wow, you’re intense. You’ve always said you don’t want to be a doctor.”

“I’d do anything to live happily with Shiki.”

“Haha, that’s love, huh?”

Hearing Miyu’s teasing, I realized how much I’ve changed and laughed at myself.

In elementary school, I’d stare dead-eyed at the “future dreams” section of those self-reflection sheets, writing “doctor” because my parents told me to. To Miyu, who knew that version of me, I must look ridiculous now.

I think I’m ridiculous, too. But for Shiki, I’d do anything.

Shiki doesn’t know the promise my parents forced on me. If I don’t pass the medical school entrance exam on my first try, I’ll be set up with a doctor my dad trusts. And it’s not just any medical school—it has to be one of the toughest, or I won’t be allowed to move to Tokyo.

Shiki probably doesn’t grasp how much studying it takes or how high the failure rates are. His cheerful encouragement can feel a bit flippant sometimes, but it also lifts me up. His smile alone saves me.

My frail body might be screaming, but I don’t care anymore. I won’t let anything slip through my fingers again. I’ll crawl if I have to, picking up every piece.

Meeting Shiki taught me I’m that kind of person.

“Hey, Princess, your ride’s here,” Miyu said.

I looked out the window. The car was waiting. Guess that’s it for today.

“Don’t call me Princess. …Thanks for always listening to me ramble about Shiki.”

“No prob. It’s fun for me, too. I’ll always listen. See ya.”

“Later.”

I said goodbye to Miyu and got in the car. Tracing my right ear with my cold hand, hidden from the driver, I reminded myself: as long as we share this matching despair, I can keep going in this town.

Now and always.