The café smelled like cinnamon and burnt espresso. Aira Hanazaki slipped inside, arms wrapped around herself as the soft chime of the bell above the door rang out behind her. It was late—again. Her fault, even though no one would say it out loud.
Aira scanned the room, her eyes instantly drawn to the group near the corner window. They were already there. Of course they were.
Rina waved dramatically the moment she noticed her. "Finally! I was starting to think you'd ghosted us and joined a cult or something!"
Aira gave a soft laugh, eyes flicking away. "Sorry. The train was slow."
Liar.
She'd stood outside for ten whole minutes just… existing. Staring at the door. Breathing.
Kaito looked up from his drink, silent as always. Just one glance. No words. But it was enough to make her chest twist a little. His silver hair was messier than usual today, the ends brushing the collar of his hoodie. He went right back to sipping his coffee.
Aira slid into the empty chair beside Haru, whose sweater sleeves were pushed up just far enough to reveal graphite smudges on his hands. He was doodling in the corner of his notebook, pretending not to be listening.
Across the table, Miyo sat rigidly upright, scrolling on her phone with a single manicured finger, her long platinum-blonde hair catching the soft window light. She didn't even glance up. Typical.
Ren gave her a small nod. That was enough. Tsubasa, on the other hand, leaned halfway over the table, grinning.
"Took you long enough, Shadow Queen," he teased. "What's the verdict? Late-night poetry or brooding on rooftops?"
Aira ducked her head, tugging her oversized cardigan sleeves over her hands. "Neither."
"I bet it was rooftops," Rina said, propping her chin on her hand. "With like… wind. And music playing in the background. Moody protagonist things."
Aira just smiled. She didn't know how to say, I was trying to remember how to breathe like a normal person.
Then the door opened again.
Yuki Minazawa walked in like she owned the place, her soft ivory coat fluttering behind her, pristine as always. Her white-blonde hair was curled around her chin like it was styled by fate. She paused for half a second when she saw the table was full.
Miyo looked up. "You're late."
Yuki sat beside her without a word. She didn't acknowledge Aira, but her gaze lingered just a second too long.
Outside, the sky was pale gray, light bleeding across the clouds like watercolor. Inside, it was warm and loud and something close to safe—but Aira couldn't help noticing how far Kaito's chair was from hers. Like even in this small circle of friends, there was still a gap that couldn't be crossed.
She caught him watching her notebook when she opened it, though.
She pretended not to see.
Later, after everyone had left…
Aira lingered by the window, pretending to tie her shoelace. Kaito was still at the counter, waiting on another drink. Why, she didn't know. He never stayed long.
When he turned, their eyes met for real this time. Not just a glance. Not just a flicker. A full moment.
"You always sit by the window," he said softly.
Her heart did something weird in her chest. "Yeah."
"It suits you." His voice was quiet, but not unsure. "You look like you're part of the background, but you're the one watching everything."
She didn't know what to say to that. So she said nothing. Just nodded, eyes fixed on the floor.
When she finally looked up again, he was already gone.
And all she could think was:
Why does it always feel like he's just out of reach?