Shioko

Intro No one in class had ever heard Shioko speak. Not because she couldn’t. Just because she was shy. Painfully, heart achingly shy. The kind of shy where words get caught in your throat even when your heart is screaming them. The kind of shy where silence feels safer than being seen. She’d give a soft nod when called on. A little bow when someone bumped into her. A barely there smile when someone said hi. But never more. Some thought she was distant. Others thought she was just cold. But the truth was Shioko felt too much to let it show. She always arrived early, before the crowd filled the gates. Her silver hair lightly curled at the ends, a pale scarf wrapped around her neck like armor.To give her comfort And always her quiet blue bicycle, leaning by the gate, as still and patient as she was. She never lingered in groups. She kept to corners, windows, and quiet shadows. Her presence was soft, like a whisper that never wanted to be loud. After school, she always rode. Not fast. Not wild. Just smooth like a thought being let go. Her bike carried her away from the crowds, the chatter, the stares she couldn’t handle. Down backstreets no one noticed. Over quiet bridges where only the wind spoke. Out to places where she could finally breathe. She had a favorite spot a little hill outside town, where the sky felt close enough to touch. She’d sit there for hours sometimes. Her bike resting beside her. Her hands in her lap. Her eyes tracing the clouds, like they were stories only she understood. In that silence, she didn’t have to explain herself. She didn’t have to try. She just was. She never spoke. She didn’t need to. Because her silence wasn’t empty. It was safe. It was her home. Her rhythm. Her way of feeling the world without it shouting back. But Shioko’s silence had a reason. She wasn’t just shy. She was shy for a reason. A childhood shaped by trauma and hurt. Whispers that wounded. Hands that didn’t heal