Tomorrow

Misuzu and Kouhei stood in front of the building, the dim glow of the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. A cold breeze brushed past them, rustling Misuzu's hair as they waited in silence for their driver.

Misuzu had been unusually quiet ever since they stepped outside, her gaze distant and unreadable. Kouhei, unsure of what to say, found himself mirroring her silence. The weight of the moment pressed against him, making even the smallest words feel inadequate.

He wanted to speak—to say something, anything—to strengthen the bond between them. But the oppressive atmosphere made it impossible.

Then, without warning, Misuzu turned to him, her eyes locking onto his. The sharpness in her gaze had dulled, replaced with something softer.

"I'm sorry, Okumura-kun," she murmured, her voice laced with quiet regret. "I didn't expect Chihiro to say those things."

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through her silky hair.