The rain had already started by the time Aira looked out the window—fine mist coating the glass, clouds smeared across the sky like someone had rubbed charcoal over the morning.
It was soft, not stormy. The kind of rain that blurred edges and made the world feel like a memory.
She stayed in her seat even after the bell rang, packing her things slowly, listening to the soft patter outside and the rustle of her classmates getting up. Miyo had already run off to art club, and Rina was probably halfway down the block to her dentist appointment. For once, Aira didn't mind being the last one.
Until she stepped outside.
And saw him.
Yuki.
Leaning against the stone wall near the school gates, one hand in his pocket, the other holding an umbrella. His hood was up, but she recognized him immediately. He wasn't texting. He wasn't even looking at his phone. He was just waiting.
"For me?" she asked, walking up.
"You always forget your umbrella," he said. His tone was easy, like this was just something he did on rainy days—rescue absentminded girls from getting soaked.
"I didn't," she said automatically.
He raised one brow.
"…Okay, maybe I did."
He handed her the umbrella without comment and started walking beside her without asking.
They walked like that for a while—close but not touching, shoes tapping against wet pavement, the silence not entirely awkward, but not comfortable either. There was something beneath it, like static waiting to spark.
"You've been quiet lately," Yuki said after a moment.
"I'm always quiet."
"Not with me."
She glanced sideways at him.
"You've been with Kaito a lot."
There it was. No hesitation, no attempt to mask it.
She stopped walking.
"Are you… jealous?"
Yuki turned to face her. "I don't know. Maybe. I just—he says things like they don't cost him anything."
Aira frowned. "Kaito isn't careless."
"Maybe not. But he's careful in a way that hides things."
His voice was calm, but his eyes—his eyes were full of something stormy. She hadn't seen him like this before. Not really. There was always something held back, tucked away. Now, it felt like the corners were unraveling.
"And what about you?" she asked quietly. "Are you hiding anything?"
Yuki looked down. "A lot. Probably more than I should."
She smiled faintly, sadly. "Me too."
Back home, Aira opened her messages to find a new one.
From Kaito.
"I saw you leave with Yuki. Was going to say hi, but… it felt like I shouldn't."
Her thumb hovered over the screen for a long time.
"You could've," she finally typed.
The reply bubbles appeared.
Paused.
Vanished.
Nothing else came.
That night, Aira sat cross-legged on her bed, still in her school clothes, the umbrella dripping quietly in the hallway.
She replayed Yuki's words. Kaito's silence. Her own inability to be decisive about anything that mattered.
Then she whispered into the dim, empty room:
"I wish someone would just say it first."