Chapter Nine: Cracks in the Silence

The showcase hadn't made them best friends overnight. Life wasn't a movie.

But it had shifted something.

Takara noticed it first in the small things. Kayo stopped wearing his headphones when they were in the room together. He still read more than he talked, still moved with that quiet precision that made Takara nervous about spilling anything within five feet of him—but he looked up more. Made eye contact. Offered dry, subtle commentary when Takara started rambling about music or dorm gossip.

They still clashed. Of course they did.

"You put your art supplies on my side of the desk again," Kayo said one morning, holding a paintbrush like it was evidence in a criminal investigation.

"And yet the world still turns," Takara replied with a grin.

But even their arguments had softened at the edges.

Like they weren't about walls anymore—but about learning to live through open doors.

*********

It was a rainy Thursday when Kayo got a call that changed his mood entirely.

Takara found him sitting on the edge of his bed, phone clenched in one hand, jaw tight.

"…Kayo?"

Kayo didn't answer at first. His face was blank in that dangerous way—still, but holding back something sharp.

Takara sat down across from him, brows furrowed. "What happened?"

"My brother," Kayo said after a pause. "He's in town. He wants to meet up. Tonight."

Takara tilted his head. "You've never mentioned a brother before."

"I don't talk about him."

Clearly.

"You okay with seeing him?"

Kayo hesitated, then said, "Not really."

"Then don't."

"It's not that simple."

Takara leaned back on his hands. "You want me to come with you?"

Kayo looked up sharply. "No. Absolutely not."

Takara raised his hands in surrender. "Okay. But I'll be here. If you want to talk after."

There was a long pause.

"…Thanks," Kayo muttered.

********

That evening, the room was unusually quiet without Kayo.

Takara tried drawing, but every time he glanced at the door, his pencil stopped moving.

It was almost 9 p.m. when Kayo returned. He closed the door quietly and kicked off his shoes with more force than necessary.

Takara sat up from where he'd been sprawled across the bed. "Hey. You okay?"

Kayo didn't answer. He walked straight to the window and stood there for a long moment.

Takara got up and moved slowly toward him.

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "But if you want to… I'm not going to interrupt."

Kayo's shoulders were tense. But then, after a long silence:

"He wanted to remind me of everything I'm not."

Takara frowned. "What does that mean?"

"He's perfect. The prodigy. Athletic, brilliant, charming. And I'm the quiet one who always got in the way."

Takara stood beside him. "You're not in anyone's way."

Kayo let out a hollow laugh. "You don't know him."

"Maybe not. But I know you."

Kayo turned to him, and for the first time that night, his expression cracked—vulnerability bleeding through the cold control.

"You're the first person who sees me without measuring me against someone else."

Takara blinked. "That's because you're not a shadow. You're your own damn light."

Kayo looked at him like he didn't know how to respond. So Takara gently bumped his shoulder.

"You want revenge by living well? Let's start by kicking my ass in Mario Kart."

Kayo almost smiled. "You're terrible at that game."

"All the more reason for you to play."

They spent the rest of the night on the floor, controllers in hand, talking little—but saying plenty.

*********

The next morning, something shifted again.

Takara woke up groggily to the sound of soft rustling and looked over to see Kayo… making his bed.

No headphones. No sour mood. Just quiet, normal Kayo.

"You good?" Takara asked.

Kayo glanced over. "Better."

"Cool. Because I was going to do something dumb to cheer you up otherwise."

"That's new," Kayo said dryly.

Takara chuckled. "There's the sarcasm I've grown to love."

Kayo paused mid-fold. "You… love my sarcasm?"

Takara blinked. "I said grown to love. It's a slow burn."

Kayo rolled his eyes, but he was smiling—just a little.

*********

That weekend, the dorm common room held a movie night. Takara didn't usually sit still for long movies, but Kayo was already planted in one of the beanbags with a bag of popcorn on his lap.

Takara dropped beside him with a dramatic sigh. "You saved me a seat?"

"I didn't not save you a seat."

Takara smirked. "Wow. Romantic."

"Shut up."

The lights dimmed. Halfway through the movie, Takara leaned over and whispered, "Do you think they'll end up together?"

"The knight and the thief?" Kayo whispered back.

"Yeah. I'm getting major pining vibes."

"They've known each other for five minutes."

"Sometimes that's all it takes."

Kayo shook his head, amused. "You're impossible."

Takara grinned. "You're not saying no."

Kayo didn't answer.

But he didn't move away, either.

**********

Later that night, while brushing their teeth, Takara glanced sideways.

"You ever think we're kind of like them?"

Kayo spit, rinsed, and gave him a look. "Like who?"

"The knight and the thief."

Kayo leaned against the sink. "You think you're the thief?"

"Well, I did steal your heart," Takara said, grinning wide.

Kayo wiped his mouth and said nothing for a moment. Then, quietly:

"Maybe you did."

Takara blinked. "Wait… was that a confession?"

"I said maybe."

"Still counts."

Kayo turned to go. "Lights out in five."

Takara stood in stunned silence for a beat, then whooped. "You like me!"

"Go to bed, Minami!"

But his voice wasn't sharp.

It was soft. Familiar. And maybe—just maybe—hopeful.