Trio's Doesn't Always Work That Way.

Miyuki's breath hitched as she turned to face Renji. His usual confident smirk was absent, replaced by something more guarded, more uncertain. Haruto, standing beside her, tensed but remained silent.

"Renji, it's not—"

"Not what?" he interrupted, voice steady but laced with something she couldn't quite place. "You two looked pretty deep in conversation."

Haruto adjusted his glasses. "We were discussing the council event. That's all."

Renji's lips twitched, as if debating whether to believe him. Miyuki glanced between the two, feeling the pressure build in her chest. How had things gotten so complicated so quickly?

The tension was thick enough to suffocate. The once comfortable dynamic between the three of them now felt like a precarious balancing act, and Miyuki was stuck in the middle, afraid that one wrong move would send everything crashing down.

Before she could say anything, the school bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Relief and dread swirled together inside her as she grabbed her bag. "We should get to class."

Neither of them argued, but as they walked back, she could feel the growing distance between them all. And it terrified her.

---

Later that evening, Miyuki sat by the large window of her bedroom, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Her phone lay beside her, Renji's name glowing on the screen from an unread message.

She hesitated before opening it.

Renji: "Are we still meeting after school tomorrow? Or should I just assume you'll be busy with him again?"

Her heart clenched. She wanted to believe he was just teasing, but something about the words made her stomach twist. She had always been able to rely on Renji's easygoing nature, but now... now it felt like she was losing him.

Before she could reply, another message came through.

Haruto: "Don't let him guilt you into anything. See you tomorrow."

Miyuki shut her eyes. Was this really happening? Was their friendship crumbling into something unrecognizable?

Taking a deep breath, she typed a reply.

Miyuki: "Of course we're still meeting. Don't be ridiculous."

She hesitated, then sent a second message.

Miyuki: "Good night, Renji."

Seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Renji: "Good night, Miyuki."

A small smile formed on her lips, but doubt still lingered in her heart. Because no matter how much she wanted things to stay the same, she knew deep down that they never would.

---

The next afternoon, Miyuki arrived at the basketball court behind the school, where Renji was already waiting. He was dribbling a ball absentmindedly, his expression distant.

"Hey," she greeted softly.

Renji caught the ball and turned to her with a grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, you actually showed up."

She frowned. "Of course I did. You're being weird."

He shrugged, tossing the ball to her. "Maybe. Just didn't think you'd have time."

Miyuki caught it with ease and stared at him. "Renji... what's going on with you?"

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Nothing. Just... trying to figure things out."

She wanted to press him, but before she could, Haruto appeared at the entrance to the court. His sharp gaze flickered between the two of them, unreadable as ever.

"Am I interrupting?"

Miyuki glanced between them, feeling the tension return in full force. This wasn't just a conversation anymore. It was something bigger.

Something she wasn't sure she could fix.

Miyuki glanced between them, feeling the tension return in full force. This wasn't just a conversation anymore. It was something bigger.

Something she wasn't sure she could fix.

Renji's retreating figure made her stomach twist, but before she could call out again, Haruto stepped closer. His presence was steady, unwavering, yet Miyuki felt a strange weight settle over her.

"You shouldn't let his emotions dictate your actions," Haruto said, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were trying to reach her without pushing.

Miyuki frowned. "That's not what this is about. Renji's my friend. I don't want to hurt him."

Haruto studied her for a moment, then exhaled. "And yet, the more you worry about him, the more tangled everything becomes."

She looked down, gripping the hem of her uniform blazer. "I just… I don't want things to change."

Haruto didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, there was something unreadable in his tone. "Things already have."

The words lingered between them, heavier than Miyuki was ready to admit.

For the rest of the day, she couldn't shake the unease that settled in her chest. At lunch, Renji was nowhere to be found. After school, Haruto walked with her toward the gate, but his usual sharp remarks were absent. It was as if the balance between them all had been shifted, and Miyuki was standing in the middle, trying to hold everything together.

But cracks were already forming.

As she packed her things that evening, a message popped up on her phone.

Renji: Meet me at the gym. We need to talk.

Miyuki hesitated, her fingers hovering over the screen. The message was short, but something about it felt different.

With a deep breath, she grabbed her bag and made her way to the gym, her heart pounding with every step.

When she arrived, she found Renji leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He didn't look up right away, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, he sighed. "Took you long enough."

Miyuki swallowed. "Renji… are you okay?"

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "That's the thing, Miyuki. I don't think I am."

She took a cautious step forward. "Is this about earlier?"

Renji finally met her gaze, and the frustration in his eyes was undeniable. "Of course it is. You and Haruto—" He ran a hand through his hair. "I know I joke around a lot, but do you even realize how this looks?"

Miyuki felt her breath hitch. "Renji, it's not—"

"I like you, Miyuki," he said suddenly, his voice breaking through the silence. "And I know I should've said it sooner, but seeing you with him—" He exhaled sharply. "I just need to know where you stand."

Miyuki's mind spun. The confession, the tension, the weight of everything left unsaid—it was too much.

And in that moment, she realized something terrifying.

No matter what she said, someone was going to get hurt.