Tiana (Part Two)

The silence was heavy.

The kind of silence that wrapped around Kaito's chest and refused to let go—sticky, intimate, suffocating. Like the quiet that came after a scream or just before a kiss. Or the kind that lingered in the air between two people who weren't supposed to be alone.

Tiana stood by the edge of the kitchen counter, her fingers idly running along the rim of the glass she'd left half-full. Her eyes, sharp and gentle at once, trailed over Kaito's face as if trying to memorize the contours of it. Or maybe she already had.

Kaito sat stiffly on the couch, his hands buried under his thighs, gripping them as though anchoring himself there. The television was on—some romance drama where the characters were arguing over misread feelings—but the sound had faded into a muffled blur.

And in this room, it was no longer just two friends catching up.

"Tiana," Kaito said, finally breaking the silence, his voice low and uncertain. "You've been acting… different."

She tilted her head, the way a cat might before pouncing. "Different how?"

"You know how."

Tiana's eyes crinkled with something like amusement, but not quite. It was softer than that. "Do you always avoid a girl's eyes when she's trying to tell you something important?"

"I'm not avoiding you."

"Yes, you are."

A pause. His throat tightened.

Maybe she wasn't wrong.

Tiana took a step closer. Not predatory. Not aggressive. Just… closer. Like a question he hadn't prepared an answer for.

"I like you, Kaito," she said, plainly. Her voice didn't waver. There was no smirk. No teasing. No pretense.

And for a second, Kaito forgot how to breathe.

He looked up. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail, like it always was when she didn't care to impress. Her hoodie slipped off one shoulder. The overhead light cast shadows beneath her eyes, softening her features and sharpening her presence.

"I know you're with Yuuki," she said before he could speak. "And I'm not trying to ruin that. I swear. I just…"

She took a breath, clutching the hem of her hoodie like a lifeline. "I've liked you since before you noticed her. And I've tried—God, I've tried—to bury it, to be cool with being the friend, the occasional third wheel, the girl who jokes too much so you won't see how real it is."

Kaito's heart thudded loud in his ears.

"I just wanted to say it, at least once. Out loud. To your face. So I could stop pretending."

He didn't know what to say. His lips parted, but no words followed.

She laughed softly. "You don't have to say anything. I mean, you're not supposed to. You have a girlfriend, and you're loyal and kind and all those things girls like me fall for."

"Tiana…"

"I'm not done."

She took another step. Now she was just inches away. She crouched beside the couch, her fingers brushing the back of his hand.

"Do you ever think about it?" she whispered. "What if we had met first? What if Yuuki never came into the picture?"

"I…"

"It's okay." Her voice trembled now. "You don't have to answer that either. I'm not trying to trap you, Kaito. I'm just trying to say everything I've kept inside for too long."

Her hand closed over his. Warm. Familiar. Aching.

And then she whispered, so quietly he almost missed it—

"Would it be so bad to pretend, just for tonight?"

His breath caught.

Tiana looked at him, eyes wide, not pleading—but vulnerable. The kind of vulnerability that came from finally lowering all your walls, from stepping into the fire of your feelings, unsure whether you'd burn or be held.

Kaito thought about Yuuki. About her clumsy cooking. Her soft smile. The way she teased him when he overthought things. The way she looked at him like he was worth something.

And then he thought about Tiana.

How easy it was to talk to her. How natural she made everything feel. How her laughter could fill a room and erase a bad day. How sometimes, when she wasn't watching, he'd catch her watching him.

He gently pulled his hand away.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Tiana blinked. Her face remained still for a moment—frozen, unreadable—then she looked down and smiled, the saddest smile he'd ever seen.

"I figured," she whispered.

"I care about you," Kaito added quickly. "So much. But not like that. I can't pretend. Not even for a second. It wouldn't be fair to you… or to Yuuki."

Tiana nodded. "You're right. I knew you'd say that. That's why I like you, you know."

A silence settled again. But it wasn't suffocating this time.

It was soft. Heavy. Real.

Tiana stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. "I think I should go."

Kaito stood too. "You don't have to—"

"I do."

She turned to the door, paused, then glanced back over her shoulder.

"You're a good guy, Kaito. A really good guy. Take care of her, okay?"

"I will."

She gave him a final smile, smaller this time, and stepped out into the night.

Kaito closed the door and leaned his forehead against it, his heart thudding with a strange mixture of sadness, guilt, and clarity.

He didn't cheat.

He didn't fall.

But he saw now—so clearly—that feelings weren't always simple. That love wasn't always clean. That you could care deeply about someone… and still not be theirs.

And that someone could care deeply about you… and still walk away.

The next day, Kaito stared at his phone for a long time before texting Yuuki.

> "I miss you. Can we talk later?"

Her reply came a moment later.

> "Always. I miss you too."

And somehow, that was enough.

Later that night, as he sat by his window, watching the streetlights flicker in the distance, he thought about how much had changed in just a few months.

He had entered university trying not to be seen. Hiding behind books, sarcasm, and silence.

And now?

Now he was learning—slowly, painfully, beautifully that to truly live, he had to be vulnerable.

He had to risk being known.

Even if it meant being hurt.

Even if it meant saying goodbye to someone who cared about him.

Even if it meant choosing the person who held his heart, even when others tried to take it.

Because real love wasn't about the absence of temptation.

It was about the strength to choose.

Again and again.

And Kaito?

He was learning how to choose.

One honest step at a time.