**I know her real name.**
I still remember it — her roll number, her handwriting, even that blue geometry box where she once hid something.
And yet…
She'll always be **"Satsuki"** to me.
---
Satsuki was the quietest girl in our class.
She didn't talk much. Never picked fights.
But she wasn't weak —
She was a little hot-headed, maybe even proud.
---
It was a mid-term exam day.
Satsuki had placed a small folded piece of paper inside her geometry box.
We noticed it, and joked —
"Uh oh! Caught red-handed! Full cheat setup!"
We all laughed...
But she stayed silent.
A few minutes later, her eyes filled with tears.
That's when I realized — maybe we crossed a line.
She didn't argue.
She quietly stood up and handed the paper to the examiner.
It had a few math formulas — probably written just to help her memory — but according to the rules, it wasn't allowed.
She cried that day.
But no one really cared...
---
And a few days later...
She stopped coming to school.
No announcement.
No explanation from the teacher.
No one even asked.
Her seat by the window just stayed empty.
---
Now when I think back on it,
That day comes to mind the most —
**The geometry box day.**
I wish... we hadn't joked.
I wish... we had listened, or at least tried to understand.
---
**I know her real name.**
But even now, when I remember her,
Only one name comes to mind — **Satsuki**.
Because maybe...
Her real name doesn't match the girl who still lives in my memories.
---
**Was it regret...? Or maybe a kind of love
I never got the chance to understand?**
*(Next chapter: "After she left, nothing changed in the class — except me...")*