Chapter Eight: Lines and Stages

The announcement board in the dorm lobby had been updated overnight. Takara Minami noticed the glittery letters before anything else:

Roommate Bonding Showcase – Saturday at 6 PM

Theme: "Better Together"

He scanned the list of selected pairs. His eyes stopped at the fifth entry:

Takara Minami & Kayo Tsukishiro – Entry #5

Beside him, Kayo Tsukishiro stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of dread and disbelief. "There's still time to fake a medical emergency."

Takara popped the lollipop out of his mouth. "You'd abandon me on stage?"

"I'd abandon myself on stage."

Takara snorted. "You're just nervous because the world's about to witness your hidden charm."

"I don't have hidden charm."

"That's what makes it hidden."

Kayo gave him a flat look, then turned and walked away.

Takara jogged to keep up. "So… no to matching outfits?"

"Takara."

"I'm kidding. Mostly."

******

Back in their room, they sat cross-legged on the dorm floor, surrounded by crumpled sheets of paper and the ruins of a failed brainstorming session.

"Skits are overrated," Takara said, balancing a pencil behind his ear. "What if we did a dramatic reenactment of our first week? You yell at me, I cry, we hug, curtain drops."

"I didn't yell."

"You glared so hard I felt yelled at."

Kayo sighed. "Let's just… not do something stupid."

Takara leaned back on his hands. "Alright. You write. I perform. We make something real."

Kayo blinked. "You'd actually perform something I write?"

"Sure," Takara said, nonchalant. "I trust you."

Kayo looked like he didn't quite know what to say to that. "Even if it's honest?"

"Especially then."

There was a long pause.

"…Okay," Kayo finally said.

********

By Wednesday night, Kayo handed Takara a folded sheet of notebook paper.

"It's short," he said quickly, as if apologizing.

Takara read it silently. The monologue was written from the perspective of a quiet roommate—frustrated at first, reluctant to share space, but gradually letting his walls down. It was simple. Honest. Bare.

And one line in particular caught Takara's breath:

"You annoy me in ways I never expected—but I'd miss you if you left."

He read that line three times.

"This is really good," Takara said softly.

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's the most you thing I've ever read."

Kayo didn't reply, but his ears turned slightly red.

"You know I'm going to cry performing this, right?" Takara added.

"Please don't."

"No promises."

********

Saturday came faster than either of them expected.

The dorm lounge had been transformed into a makeshift theater. Folding chairs faced a small platform decorated with fairy lights and colored paper. The atmosphere was casual, but the pressure was real.

Takara paced backstage, bouncing on his toes. "Ready?"

Kayo adjusted his glasses. "Absolutely not."

"Perfect. That means we'll crush it."

Kayo handed him the folded script. "Just stick to the words."

"Always do."

Kayo raised an eyebrow. Takara grinned sheepishly.

Then their names were called.

They stepped out together.

Takara took center stage. Kayo stood off to the side, watching, unreadable as ever.

The room quieted.

Takara took a breath and began to read.

*******

"When I first walked into this room, I hated everything.

I hated the bright light. I hated the noise.

I hated the boy who smiled too easily and moved like he didn't know how to sit still."

Takara smiled faintly.

"But slowly, the noise faded into music.

The chaos became comfort.

And the boy…

He became someone I didn't expect."

Takara glanced toward Kayo. Their eyes met—just briefly.

"You talk too much. You leave your socks under your bed.

You hum songs in the morning and make weird ramen combinations at night.

And you make this space feel alive."

Kayo stared down at the floor, arms crossed tight over his chest.

"You see me—even when I don't want to be seen.

And sometimes… I want that.

Even if I'm still learning how to want it."

A beat of silence passed.

Then the applause started—light at first, then louder. A couple of whistles. Someone even called out, "That was so real!"

Kayo looked stunned. Takara turned toward him, eyes bright, lips pressed together in a proud smile.

They stepped down together.

*********

That night, back in their room, Kayo stood by the window with his headphones hanging loose around his neck, his book forgotten on the windowsill.

Takara was sprawled across his bed with a sketchpad open on his stomach.

"You okay?" he asked, breaking the quiet.

Kayo nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

"You were amazing tonight."

Kayo didn't respond immediately. Then: "I didn't expect people to… like it."

"Why not? It was honest. People like real things."

Kayo gave him a rare glance. "You really think that?"

"I do. You said things I've been thinking but couldn't put into words."

Kayo turned to the window again, as if the stars might say something back.

"You know," he said, voice low, "I used to think being alone made things easier. Quieter."

Takara sat up, curious.

"But now… it's like the silence feels too big when you're not here."

Takara smiled, slow and full. "You're really bad at this whole emotional confession thing."

"I know."

"But you're getting better."

Kayo shook his head, but his lips twitched—half a smile, reluctant but real.

"Don't get used to it."

"Too late," Takara said. "Already addicted."

Kayo laughed softly. And this time, he didn't hide it.