Chapter Nine: The Space Between Us

It started with silence.

Not the comfortable kind Aira was used to—the kind that felt like shared understanding or soft moments beneath a blanket. This silence was sharp. Loud in its own way.

Because she hadn't heard from either of them.

Not Kaito. Not Yuki.

Not since the rain.

Not since that half-message that vanished without a goodbye.

The school day dragged. Aira's classes blurred together, her notes a mess of half-finished sentences and doodled spirals in the margins. Even Miyo noticed.

"You okay?" she whispered in homeroom, nudging her under the desk. "You look like your soul left your body."

Aira smiled weakly. "Maybe it did."

"You want to talk about it?"

Aira hesitated, then shrugged. "Later."

She meant it, too. Later always felt easier than now.

After school, she wandered to the back courtyard instead of heading home. The sky was clear again, the sun low and golden. The breeze tugged at her sleeves and carried the distant sound of someone practicing piano in the music room.

She didn't expect to find Kaito sitting on the steps behind the building.

But there he was.

Hood up, earbuds in, head tilted back against the wall like he hadn't moved in hours.

She stopped a few feet away.

He looked up, noticed her, and slowly pulled out one earbud. "…Hey."

"Hey," she said softly.

A pause.

Then, carefully: "You didn't reply."

Kaito looked down at his shoes. "I didn't know what to say."

Aira sat next to him, not close enough to touch. "That's not like you."

He exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, well… I don't always want to be predictable."

That surprised a laugh out of her. Small. Honest. It made his mouth twitch into a ghost of a smile.

"I wasn't trying to avoid you," he said. "I just… didn't want to say the wrong thing."

"You already said something," she reminded him. "That night."

Kaito was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "I did."

"Do you still mean it?"

He didn't look at her. "Yes."

The word was small. Certain.

Aira looked at her hands. "Then why does it feel like you're pulling away?"

Kaito turned his head slightly. "Because I know Yuki. And I know he doesn't say much—but when he does, it means everything."

Her heart clenched.

"He doesn't talk about his feelings," Kaito continued. "Not like I do. But I saw the way he looked at you in that movie theater. And I saw the way you looked back."

"I wasn't—" She stopped herself. Swallowed. "I didn't mean to."

Kaito smiled, but it was the kind that hurt. "I'm not mad. I'm just trying to figure out where I stand."

Aira looked at him then, really looked. His lashes cast long shadows on his cheeks. His eyes were tired, a little guarded. But there was warmth there too—soft, patient, waiting.

"You're not going to fight him?" she asked.

Kaito shook his head. "I don't want to win something you're not offering freely."

She felt something twist inside her. Some mixture of guilt and awe and confusion.

"I don't know what I'm offering yet," she whispered.

Kaito gave her a gentle nod. "Then I'll wait."

The next day was different.

In gym class, Yuki actually spoke first.

"Want to pair up for the run?"

Aira blinked. "Me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're the only one not already paired off."

That wasn't true, but she didn't argue.

They jogged in sync, sneakers slapping the pavement. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything at all.

Yuki broke the silence halfway around the track. "Kaito told me he confessed."

Aira nearly tripped.

"I didn't ask," Yuki added quickly. "He just told me."

"Oh."

Another pause. Then:

"I know I'm not the easiest person to understand," Yuki said, his voice low. "But I've never lied to you."

Aira slowed slightly. "I never thought you did."

"I just… I wait. Too long, sometimes. And I think maybe I waited too long this time."

Her breath caught.

"I should've said something sooner," he continued. "But I thought if I waited, maybe I'd be sure. Of how I felt. Of how you felt."

They stopped running.

He turned to her, sweat on his forehead, breathing hard, but eyes locked on hers.

"I like you," Yuki said. "I probably have for a while. But I didn't want to mess it up."

Aira felt frozen. Like the air had gone still.

"I don't want you to feel caught between us," he said. "But I also don't want to pretend I don't care."

She couldn't answer. Not yet. The words wouldn't come. She felt cracked open, full of noise and confusion and something close to relief.

Yuki took a step back. "You don't have to say anything. Just… know it."

He jogged off before she could respond.

Leaving her standing in the middle of the track, heart pounding, mind spinning.

That night, she lay awake staring at the ceiling.

Kaito's voice: "Then I'll wait."

Yuki's voice: "I like you."

Her own voice: "…I don't know."

She felt like she was standing at the edge of something huge. Something quiet. Something real.

And all she could think was:

"What if I lose both of them by the time I figure it out?"