They pulled apart at once.

He straightened. His hand dropped back to his side. Heat stayed on his face.

She looked down for a second. Then at the flowers. Then somewhere past him.

He stepped back.

"I’ll see you at university," he said. "When you’re out."

"Tomorrow," she said. "Maybe the day after."

"Don’t rush."

"I won’t."

She lifted her hand slightly.

"Thank you for coming."

Her eyes shifted to the sunflowers.

"And thank you for these."

Then back to him.

"Thank you for what you said."

He smiled and nodded.

"Your Welcome."

.

.

He was smiling at the pavement the whole metro ride home.

He noticed it when the doors opened at one stop. The reflection in the glass caught him mid-smile. He pressed his lips together. Looked away.

A minute later it came back.

The woman across from him glanced up. Her eyes lingered for a second. Then she looked down at her phone.

He didn’t stop it this time.

He got off at his station and walked.

His hands stayed in his pockets. His steps came quicker than usual.

The evening had settled in.

Streetlights turned on one by one. Shops glowed from inside. Voices carried from the roadside stalls.

He kept smiling.

.

He reached home.

The door shut behind him. He stood there for a second. Then he moved.

He took the meat out. Set the pan on the stove. Turned the heat up a little too high, then dialed it back.

"mhmhmmhmm" A sound slipped out of him. Just a line of notes that didn’t settle into anything.

His head bobbed.

He kept going.

Oil in the pan. A soft crackle. He leaned in to check it, then turned to grab a plate.

There was movement outside the window.

Shizuka sat by the window.

Still. Watching him.

He caught her eyes.

He smiled.. and winked.

She didn’t react. Not at first. Then her eyes narrowed. Slight.

He turned back to the stove.

The sound came back. Low. Aimless.

He stirred. Checked the heat. Lifted the lid on the rice. Steam rose. He stepped back from it, then leaned in again.

He plated the vegetables.

He glanced at the window again.

She was still there.

He winked again.

This time she looked away first. Her jaw tightened. A strand of silver hair slipped forward across her face.

He turned back to the pan.

"You are in a disgustingly good mood," she said through the glass.

"I am."

"I hate it."

"I know."

He turned fully toward her.

"I’ll be honest," he said. "Hana and I confessed today."

"..."

"Both of us."

He held her gaze.

"I’m going out with her."

Nothing.

"I know," she said. "I saw."

"And?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"And I hate it."

Flat. Precise.

"I said that already."

He laughed.

It slipped out before he could stop it.

Her stare sharpened. Her chin lifted a fraction.

"Come in for dinner," he said.

She came in through the glass door by the kotatsu after he opened it for her.

She didn’t look at him as she crossed the room.

She sat across from him.

Her eyes went to the food.

She picked up her chopsticks.

She stabbed a piece of meat. Hard enough that the plate shifted a little.

She ate.

Didn’t look up.

He watched her.

She stabbed again.

He served himself. Took a bite. Chewed.

The room stayed quiet except for the faint sound of chopsticks hitting ceramic.

She stabbed again.

and again.

and again.

"My life is going to be more normal from now on," he said.

No response.

He swallowed.

"I want Hana in it."

He set his chopsticks down for a second.

"I don’t want this to turn into something messy."

She stopped.

Just for a second.

Then she picked up another piece.

"If you follow us around, you’ll stay angry," he said.

Her grip tightened. The chopsticks pressed deeper into the meat before lifting it.

"That’s your choice."

She didn’t eat it right away.

She lowered it back into the bowl.

A pause.

"I know," she said.

Quiet.

"Shizuka."

She looked up.

Slow.

"You can choose not to watch."

Something shifted in her face.

He caught it and lost it in the same second.

She held his eyes, then let them drop back to the food.

"No," she said.

"I cannot."

He stayed on her.

She set her chopsticks down with a soft click and looked at her hands resting flat on the table.

Fingers spread, unmoving.

"You have full freedom, Kai."

She stood.

She moved around the kotatsu without hurry, the fabric brushing lightly as she passed, and stopped beside him.

He followed her with his eyes.

His body stayed where it was.

She sat.

Close enough that their shoulders touched and stayed there.

"I am not stopping you," she said.

"I never was."

She shifted a little closer, her arm settling along his.

"Whatever you want to do, whoever you want to be with, that is yours."

He didn’t move.

Didn’t lean away.

Didn’t turn toward her.

She watched his profile for a second.

Then she moved.

Her leg slid over his, slow and strong, and she settled into his lap as if there had never been another place for her to sit.

The table gave a small shift.

He went still.

Her arms came up around his neck, cold, her fingers finding the back of it and staying there.

Her face was close now.

Close enough that he could feel her breath.

Her eyes held his.

"I chose to stay," she said quietly. "That is mine."

He looked at her and did not move her off.

Her thumb pressed once at the base of his neck, then rested there.

"I am here," she said. "I was your shadow before you noticed."

Her fingers tightened for a moment, then settled again.

"I will be here after this."

"Shizuka—"

"Hana and you, may end."

Her voice didn’t change.

No edge. No rise.

"Everything ends."

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze moving across his face without breaking.

"But this doesn’t."

A small breath passed between them.

"You and me."

Her hand stayed at the back of his neck, holding him in place without force, without release.

"There is no version where I leave."

Her eyes stayed steady on his.

"No fight. No girl. No time."

She leaned a fraction closer and stopped there.

"Do what you want, Kai."

Her voice dropped, softer, closer.

"I will be here."