"Hey, Shu..." I hesitated but called out to her anyway.

She turned, her gaze landing on me with a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"What is it?" she inquired, her tone clipped.

Taking a deep breath, I mustered my courage. "I owe you an apology. I was dismissive about your academic achievements, and that was wrong of me. I didn't realize how much it meant to you," I confessed, hoping to mend fences.

A brief flicker of surprise crossed her face before she masked it with indifference. "If you're truly sorry, then let's leave it at that. Now, please, I have things to do," she dismissed me, turning away.

The conversation faltered, but my concern lingered, especially for the red welts on her wrist. I wanted to help, yet I was unsure how to bridge the gap between us.

"Will you join me for shopping?" I ventured, seeking any excuse to extend our interaction.

She ignored my invitation, her attention fixed on the shelves before her. I was lost in thought, contemplating my next move, when a tug at my pants brought me back to reality.

"Papa, what are you doing? Aren't we going shopping? And who is she?" Bell's innocent voice rang out.

"She's a classmate," I replied, keeping my answer simple for Bell's sake.

As I spoke to Bell, Shu glanced over, her expression one of confusion. She must have been wondering who I was talking to. Seizing the moment, I tried once more to engage her.

"How's your preparation for tomorrow's test?" I asked, hoping to spark a conversation.

But she continued to ignore me, hastily grabbing items off the shelves as if to escape my presence. I began to question the point of my efforts.

Resigning myself to the situation, I focused on shopping with Bell, who was happily exploring the aisles.

As we shopped, I overheard Shu's voice near the cash counter. She seemed to be searching for something, her movements frantic. It dawned on me that she might have forgotten her wallet.

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This could be my opportunity.

Approaching the counter, I addressed her with concern. "Shu, is everything alright?"

She hesitated, then admitted, "I seem to have left my wallet at home."

I saw my chance. "That's unfortunate. Do you need assistance? I can cover your expenses for now," I offered.

"No, I don't require your help," she declined, pride evident in her voice.

"But without my help, you won't be able to purchase your items. Consider it a loan; you can repay me later," I persisted.

Shu pondered the offer, weighing her options. After a moment, she reluctantly agreed to accept the money. I sensed this was a turning point, a debt owed often opens doors to further interaction.

I asked her to wait while I finished my shopping. To Bell, I promised a treat of ice cream if she remained patient until we returned home. Her face lit up with the promise, and she nodded eagerly.

After paying for both our purchases, we exited the store. Yet, the challenge of initiating a meaningful conversation with Shu still loomed ahead.

"Um... thank you, and I apologize for earlier," Shu murmured, breaking the silence.

"There's no need to apologize. Are you referring to the incident on the rooftop?" I inquired.

"Yes, that... I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, regardless of your grades. It's just that..." She trailed off, her voice faltering.

I was eager to understand her hesitation. "Is it related to your parents?" I ventured cautiously.

Her reaction was immediate and telling. She looked away, her body language screaming denial even as her words tried to deflect. "It's nothing like that," she lied.

I knew then that she was concealing the truth about her parents' abuse. I wanted to help her, but I also knew that unless she was willing to take the first step, my efforts would be in vain.

Silence was her constant companion as we ambled along, a silence that seemed to grow heavier as the time to say goodbye drew near. Yet, I couldn't help but seek a glimpse into her silent world.

"May I ask what keeps you from talking to our classmates?" I questioned gently.

Shu's presence in class was like a quiet shadow, her words reserved for the necessary—answers to the teacher and brief, obligatory exchanges with peers.

My own solitude wasn't by choice, unlike hers.

"Friendships," she finally said, "are a distraction, a thief of time. Why seek companionship when that time could be better spent on studies?"

Her perspective shed light on her isolation; she valued time, seeing it as a resource not to be squandered.

Reaching the fork in our path, she stopped.

"Thank you for your help today. My house is this way. I'll make it up to you at school tomorrow," she stated, poised to leave.

I halted her departure with a call, "Shu...!"

She turned back, a question in her eyes.

"Spending time with friends isn't a waste. If you lack friends, then let me be your first," I offered.

A moment of shock crossed her face, and she turned to leave again, silent. It might have seemed like a rejection, but the small, relieved smile she wore as she walked away told a different story.

Perhaps our conversation had lightened her load, even if just a little. Maybe, just maybe, she needed a friend to confide in more than she realized.