Memories of The End (Prologue – Ch.17)

A year after a tragic accident, Kana, Ren, and Kaito are still haunted by the past—until Aoi stumbles into their lives. Moving to a new city for a fresh start, she never expected to become entangled in old wounds and unspoken grief. But as friendships form and buried truths resurface, Aoi realizes that healing doesn’t mean forgetting—it means facing what was left behind.

“Disclaimer: This story’s ideas, characters, plot, sequencing, and scenes are entirely my original creations. However, my trusty AI companion, ChatGPT, assisted in refining the wording, paraphrasing, and generating the illustration for the featured image. This narrative draws inspiration from the song ‘Memories of The End’ by UVERworld.“

PROLOGUE – Before The Silence

The sound of the rain grew louder, hammering against the earth like an unrelenting drum. Kana struggled to take another step forward, her carrier digging into her shoulders, her breath shallow. The weight felt heavier with each passing moment, but she had to keep going.  

Ahead, she could see Kaito, also battling against the storm, his figure barely visible through the downpour. Without looking back, she knew—Ren and Yui were behind her, trying their best to keep moving.  

“ Kaito…!” Kana screamed with all her strength, calling out to him. But she knew it was pointless. She could barely hear her own voice—how could she expect Kaito to?  

She had known from the start that it was a mistake to descend the mountain today. Their chances of survival might have been higher if they had stayed in the Valley, but that morning, Ren and Kaito had decided to make the descent. Of course, the storm hadn’t been this severe in the morning.  

Then—  

A scream.  

Yui’s scream.  

Kana froze.  

It wasn’t just fear. It was a sound laced with terror and shock, sharp enough to cut through the storm.  

A cold panic surged through Kana as she forced herself to move again, her legs trembling as she turned back toward Ren and Yui. Her face paled. She didn’t want to see what had made Yui scream like that.  

Kaito had turned, too. His usual carefree expression was gone. Instead, for the first time, Kana saw something she never thought she would—fear.  

His playful eyes were wide with panic, his face drained of color.  

“Yui…?”  

That was all Kaito managed to say. Just one word, but it carried everything—shock, disbelief, helplessness.  

Kana shook her head, her body trembling. The cold that had been biting at her all along suddenly felt unbearable.  

Then Kaito bolted toward Yui like lightning.  

Kana remained frozen. Go. Move. But fear had chained her in place. She knew she should follow, but she was too afraid to see what lay ahead.Too afraid of the truth. 

Her legs barely carried her as she forced herself to walk—retracing the treacherous path she had just struggled through. She kept her gaze forward, refusing to look at the abyss beside her. 

And then—  

She found them.  

Kana’s breath caught in her throat.  

Below then, in horror she found her. 

Yui.  

Her dearest friend.  

Dangling over the cliffside, her fingers clinging desperately to the roots of a fragile plant.  

Kana’s stomach twisted. She barely heard the howling wind, the pounding rain—her heartbeat was the only sound in her ears.  

Ren reached for her. So close. His fingers brushed against Yui’s.  

But fate had other plans.  

A sickening snap.  

Kana’s breath stopped.  

The plant’s roots tore free from the earth.  

Yui’s fingers slipped.  

At that moment, Kana heard another scream.  

Multiple screams—blending together as one.  

She didn’t even realize she was screaming, too.  

Ren lunged—  

And Yui fell.  

The storm swallowed her whole.  

And then—silence.  

Chapter 1: A Note in The Wind

–A year later-  

Aoi exhaled as she dropped the last empty box onto the floor.  

Her new apartment smelled faintly of cardboard and fresh paint, the air still carrying that sterile, untouched feeling. The space was hers now, but it didn’t quite feel like home yet. That was fine. She could change that.  

Stretching her arms above her head, she rolled her shoulders, easing out the tension of unpacking. The room was still a mess—half-open suitcases, clothes draped over chairs, a tangled mess of earphones near the nightstand—but she’d deal with that later.  

Her phone buzzed.  

Aoi sighed, already knowing who it was before she even picked it up.  

Mom.  

She pressed the call button.  

“Mom, I just finished unpacking,” Aoi greeted, a knowing smile forming before the words even came.  

“Oh, finally! Took you long enough. Have you eaten?” her mother’s voice filled the room, carrying that familiar nagging warmth.  

Aoi let out a small laugh. “I’m not starving, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about! You’re living alone now, and who’s going to remind you to eat properly? You better not be surviving on instant ramen.”  

Aoi shook her head. “I know how to cook, you know.”  

Her mother sighed dramatically. “I miss you already, Aoi. It’s so quiet without you running around the house.”  

Aoi leaned against the kitchen counter, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the surface. “Mom, it’s only been two days.”  

“And yet it feels like a year.”  

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I’m excited, though. Moving to this campus is actually  going to be amazing. And they have an awesome swimming program here—I told you, right?”  

“Yes, yes, you told me a thousand times.” Her mother sighed, but Aoi could hear the smile in her voice. “Just don’t overwork yourself, alright? And—hello? Aoi?”  

The connection crackled. The signal was starting to fade.  

Aoi frowned and moved toward the balcony, trying to get better reception. “Hold on, I think my signal is—”  

She stopped.  

The words never finished leaving her mouth.  

Because she saw him.  

Across from her, in the apartment next door, a guy sat on his balcony, a guitar resting against his knee.  

Aoi wasn’t sure what caught her attention first—the melody, or the way he played it.  

Soft, slow, almost absentmindedly, as if he were lost in something deeper than the music itself. Each note carried a weight, lingering in the cool evening air, filling the quiet between them.  

But it wasn’t just the song.  

It was him.  

The way he sat—his posture still, yet somehow heavy. The way his fingers moved over the strings, careful, deliberate, as if they carried something too fragile to break.  

And his expression.  

Aoi had seen a lot of emotions in people—anger, joy, determination, frustration—but this…  

This was different.  

The kind of sadness that didn’t show in tears or loud, broken cries. The kind that sat deep inside a person, in their silence, in the way they lingered on something no one else could see.  

Her mother’s voice crackled faintly through the receiver.  

“Aoi? Hello? Are you still there?”  

Aoi swallowed, barely aware of the phone still pressed to her ear.  

“…Yeah.”  

She hung up.  

But she didn’t go back inside.  

She lingered.  

And the melody lingered with her.  

Chapter 2: Collisions,  Coincidences and A Lunch Date

The campus was buzzing with life.

Aoi zipped through the crowd, her bag slung over one shoulder, barely paying attention to where she was going. She was too busy trying to make sense of the campus map on her phone. Where the hell was the sports complex again?

“West building… or was it east?” she muttered to herself, turning a little too sharply around the corner—

And slammed straight into someone.

Hard.

Her bag slipped off her shoulder, and her phone nearly flew out of her hand as she collided into a wall—no, not a wall. A person.

A very solid, unmoved, unbothered person.

Aoi staggered back, rubbing her forehead. “Owww, what the—”

Then she looked up.

And her brain short-circuited.

It was him.

Balcony Guitar Guy.

Her first reaction wasn’t something graceful like Oh wow, fate is real! or The universe works in mysterious ways!

It was—

“YOU.”

The word flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.

The guy—who had barely even budged from the impact—stared at her, unamused. His dark eyes held no recognition, no curiosity, just a quiet why are you like this? kind of look.

“…Do I know you?” he asked flatly.

Aoi blinked. Wow. Rude.

She placed her hands on her hips. “No. But I know you.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his patience already thinning. “Good for you.”

Aoi squinted at him. “You’re the guy from the next apartment over.”

A flicker of something passed through his gaze, but it vanished just as quickly. “…So?”

“So… I saw you playing guitar,” she blurted. “You looked really—”

She paused, struggling to find the right word.

Lonely? Heartbroken? Like you were starring in a tragic indie film?

“…Still,” she finished awkwardly.

He exhaled sharply through his nose—something between a sigh and a silent God, why am I here?

“If you’re looking for an autograph, I don’t do those,” he muttered, brushing past her.

Aoi whirled around. “Pfft—excuse me, but who even are you?”

He barely turned his head. “Exactly.”

Aoi opened her mouth to retort, ready to fight this human brick wall, when—

“Aoiiii!”

A new voice cut in, and before she could react, an arm slung casually around her shoulder.

She turned—only to be met with the grin of a ridiculously good-looking guy with messy brown hair and an easygoing expression.

“Wait—what?” Aoi frowned, confused. “How do you—?”

The guy grinned wider. “Oh, I know everything.”

Aoi narrowed her eyes. “That’s not a comforting answer.”

A beautiful girl standing beside him rolled her eyes. “He overheard your name at the admin office earlier. You were arguing with the receptionist about your student ID, weren’t you?”

Aoi blinked. “Oh.”

That… sounded like her.

The messy-brown-haired guy  snapped his fingers. “That’s right! Something about how ‘Aoi Suzuka is a very common name, so how could they possibly mess it up?’”

Aoi groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

He  just grinned, then turned toward the other guy. “So, what’d you do to this poor girl? You already scaring off new students?”

The cold guy  crossed his arms. “She ran into me.”

His friend gasped. “Aoi. You assaulted him?”

The beautiful girl sighed, nudging the brown-haired guy. “Ignore him. He thrives on chaos.”

Aoi couldn’t help it—she snorted.

Okay. She liked these two.

The cold guy, on the other hand, was clearly over this entire conversation. “Are we done here?”

His friend  ignored him. “So, Aoi, have you eaten?”

Aoi blinked. “Huh?”

“Lunch,” the girl clarified. “Did you already eat?”

“Uh, no. I was kind of just—”

“Great,” the easy-going-guy  interrupted. “You’re coming with us.”

Aoi barely had time to react before he was already leading the way, dragging her along like this was the most natural thing in the world.

The other guy, meanwhile, looked positively pained.

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered.

His friend patted his shoulder. “It’s not about you, buddy.”

Aoi grinned. She didn’t know how she managed to get herself to a lunch date with people that she didn’t even know their names. But…she has a feeling that this was going to be interesting.

* * *

The small café was warm, buzzing with life, a stark contrast to the drizzly air outside. The smell of fresh coffee and grilled food filled the space as Aoi sat across from Kana and Kaito, still half-processing how she ended up at lunch with them. She knew their name now, they finally realized that they hadn’t introduced themselves properly before. But still…they are basically strangers. 

Ren, of course, was there too. Technically.

He sat at the far end of the table, arms crossed, barely looking at them. If someone walked in, they’d think he was just an unlucky stranger forced to share a table with three people who actually wanted to be here.

Aoi, however, was having a blast.

“So,” Kana said, setting down her iced tea. “How are you liking it here so far?”

Aoi leaned back in her chair, stretching. “Honestly? It’s been great. The university has an amazing swimming program—I mean, that’s the whole reason I came here in the first place.”

Kana’s brows lifted. “Oh? You’re on the swimming team?”

“Yep. Scholarship, too,” Aoi said, grinning.

Kaito let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s impressive.”

Kana nodded in agreement. “Seriously, swimming scholarships are no joke. You must be really good.”

Aoi shrugged, but she was clearly pleased. “Well, I didn’t just get here by dog-paddling.”

Kaito smirked. “Good to know. I was just about to ask if I should be scared if we ever raced.”

“Scared? Of course. You’d lose before even realizing the race started.”

Kana chuckled. “I like her. She’s got confidence.”

Aoi grinned, then sighed. “Only problem is… I keep getting lost on this giant campus. I was actually trying to find the sports complex when I ran into Mr. Sunshine over there.”

She nudged her head toward Ren, who did not react.

Kana and Kaito exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

“Yeah,” Kaito said, shaking his head. “That tracks.”

“You should’ve asked for directions,” Kana suggested.

“I tried!” Aoi exclaimed. “But the guy I ran into just gave me the most unhelpful response ever.“

Kana smirked. “Let me guess. Something vague and emotionally distant?”

Aoi snapped her fingers. “Exactly!”

“Sounds like Ren, alright.”

At the mention of his name, Ren’s hand tightened slightly around his coffee cup, but he said nothing.

Aoi watched him out of the corner of her eye. He hadn’t spoken a single word since they sat down. Not even an annoyed sigh. He just sat there, like a shadow. Like he wasn’t really part of this moment at all.

But she wasn’t about to let that kill the mood.

“So, what about you guys?” she asked, shifting the topic. “What do you do?”

Kana perked up. “Well, I love animals. I wanted to be a vet at some point, but I think I’m more suited to music.”

“You’re a musician?” Aoi asked, intrigued.

Kana nodded. “Violinist. I’ve been playing since I was little.”

Aoi whistled. “Damn. Fancy.”

Kana smiled. “It’s something I’m passionate about. Music just… has a way of saying things even words can’t, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Aoi admitted.

“You should see her perform sometime,” Kaito said. “She’s really good.”

Kana waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway,” she turned to Aoi, “do you like nature?”

Aoi tilted her head. “Nature?”

“Yeah,” Kaito leaned forward. “Kana and I go on these nature walks every now and then. There are some amazing trails near campus.”

“You should come with us,” Kana added.

Aoi considered it. “Hmm. Sounds fun.”

“You say that now, but wait until Kaito starts acting like he’s some survivalist expert,” Kana teased.

Kaito scoffed. “Excuse you, I am a survivalist expert.”

Kana rolled her eyes. “Sure. That’s why you got us lost for three hours that one time?”

Aoi laughed. “Oh, I definitely need to see this in action.”

Kana smirked and nudged Aoi. “Oh, and just a warning—girls are always swarming around Kaito. It’s kinda ridiculous.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Kaito said, grinning. “I can’t help it if people find me charming.”

Aoi crossed her arms. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Kana chuckled. “Oh, it is.”

As the conversation continued, Aoi kept noticing Ren.

Or rather, his silence.

He still hadn’t spoken. He barely even looked at them. His food sat mostly untouched, and his fingers drummed against the side of his cup in a slow, absentminded rhythm.

But something shifted—just barely—when Kana and Kaito mentioned the nature walk.

Aoi wasn’t sure why, but his grip on the cup tightened. His jaw clenched. For just a second, his expression hardened.

Like something had hit a nerve.

It was subtle, so subtle that if she hadn’t been watching, she might’ve missed it. But she saw it.

Huh.

Aoi didn’t push. She just stored that thought away.

Eventually, Kana stretched. “Alright, we should probably get going before Kaito convinces Aoi she’s actually signed up for a survival camp.”

Aoi snorted. “Yeah, wouldn’t want that.”

Kaito pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “I am so misunderstood.”

Ren exhaled sharply, and Aoi almost thought it was a laugh—almost.

But just like everything else with him, it was gone before she could be sure.

As they got up to leave, Aoi fell into step beside Kana.

She couldn’t help but glance one last time at Ren.

Who exactly are you?

She didn’t have the answer yet.

But something told her she was going to find out.

* * *

Chapter 3: Unwilling Partners

Aoi was late.

Which, honestly, wasn’t unusual for her—but today, she had really pushed it.

She practically sprinted across campus, dodging slow walkers, nearly tripping over a stray soccer ball some students were kicking around, and barely making it through the classroom door before the professor began taking attendance.

With zero time to be picky, she flopped into the nearest empty seat near the door, catching her breath.

And then—

She glanced to her left.

And froze.

Oh, come on.

Of all people—of all empty seats—she had somehow ended up right next to Ren.

The very same emotionally-stunted, human brick wall who had rejected her existence just yesterday.

Perfect.

Ren, for his part, didn’t even glance at her. He sat there, arms crossed, staring straight ahead like she wasn’t even there.

Aoi scowled. So dramatic.

The professor started lecturing, and for the most part, Aoi focused. Forensic Psychology 101 was actually interesting—criminal profiling, analyzing human behavior, unraveling the “why” behind actions.

Then the professor dropped the bombshell.

“For your semester-long project, you’ll be working in pairs.”

Aoi blinked.

Oh no.

She didn’t know anyone.

Sure, she had met Kana and Kaito, but neither of them were in this class. Everyone else in the room was a stranger.

“Find a partner,” the professor continued, “because after today, you’re stuck with them.”

Aoi’s stomach dropped.

Her eyes slowly shifted toward Ren.

… No way.

There was no way she was about to do this.

But what choice did she have?

Taking a deep breath, she turned toward him. “Hey, uh… do you wanna—”

“No.”

Aoi blinked.

She hadn’t even finished the question.

“I—You—” She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t even hear what I was gonna say.”

Ren finally looked at her then. Deadpan. “I heard enough.”

Aoi gaped. “Wow. Rude.”

Ren exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples like she was already giving him a migraine.

“Look,” she tried again, trying not to sound desperate (but let’s be real, she kinda was), “I don’t really know anyone else in this class, so—”

“You also don’t know me.”

Aoi groaned, throwing her hands up. “Great. That makes two of us.”

Ren didn’t respond.

Aoi clenched her jaw. Fine. Be like that.

She’d just have to ask someone literally anyone else—

Except.

Before she could do that, a familiar voice cut through the air—

“Aoiii~!”

Aoi turned, only to see Kana standing by the door, watching the whole exchange with way too much amusement.

Ren immediately tensed beside her.

Kana sauntered over, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s wrong? You look like you just got rejected on live television.”

Aoi groaned, slumping against her desk. “Your emotionally constipated friend over here doesn’t want to be my partner for the psych project.”

Kana’s eyes gleamed.

“Ohhh?” she said, turning to Ren with the most dangerous, knowing smile.

Ren scowled. “No.”

Kana didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

Ren stared.

Aoi sat up, suddenly very interested in this interaction.

Kana tilted her head. “What, you don’t wanna work with Aoi?”

Ren’s jaw clenched. “That’s what I just said.”

Kana sighed dramatically. “And here I thought you’d grown as a person.”

Aoi snorted.

Ren glared.

Kana grinned. “Come on, Ren. Be nice. Aoi’s new, and she doesn’t know anyone.”

“That’s not my problem.”

Kana raised an eyebrow. “I can make it your problem.”

Ren didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, like he was debating whether arguing with Kana was worth the energy.

Kana took one step closer and dropped her voice slightly, the playful edge still there, but something more firm underneath.

“Do it, Ren.”

Aoi wasn’t sure what just happened.

But suddenly, Ren exhaled sharply, like this was the biggest inconvenience of his life.

Then—

“Fine.”

Aoi blinked.

“…Wait, really?”

Ren shot her an annoyed glance. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Aoi frowned. “Uh, I’m the one regretting it, buddy.”

Kana clapped her hands together. “Great! See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Ren looked so done.

Aoi, meanwhile, was having an existential crisis.

Because now she was stuck with the worst possible partner for an entire semester.

She let her head fall against her desk. Why did I let her talk him into this?

Maybe working alone wouldn’t have been so bad after all.

But as she glanced at Kana—the only person Ren seemed incapable of saying no to—she filed that thought away for later.

Interesting.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Weight of Memories

The cafeteria was its usual lively mess—students buzzing in and out, the clatter of trays, the low hum of overlapping conversations. It was the kind of noise that usually made everything feel normal.

But today, it wasn’t.

Kana sat across from Kaito, idly stirring her soup with a spoon, barely paying attention as he talked.

“—so the hiking club finalized the location,” Kaito was saying between bites of his sandwich, speaking so casually that Kana almost didn’t register the words at first. “They’re going with the east trail this time.”

Kana froze.

Her spoon stilled mid-air.

Her breath caught in her throat.

That trail.

The one she hadn’t set foot on in a year.

The place where they lost Yui.

Kaito must have noticed the shift in her expression, because his usual easygoing air faded. He chewed slowly, gaze flickering downward. “Yeah,” he muttered, softer this time. “That trail.”

Silence settled between them like a thick fog.

Kana set her spoon down gently, suddenly not hungry anymore.

She hadn’t thought about going back there. Hadn’t let herself.

She glanced at Kaito. He wasn’t looking at her, just absentmindedly picking at the crust of his sandwich, his usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found.

“Are you going?” Kana finally asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Kaito exhaled through his nose. “Dunno.”

“You’ve been back there since, right?”

“Not to that spot,” Kaito admitted. He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve been around the general area, but… not there.”

Not where it happened.

Kana understood.

She hadn’t been able to go near it either.

She had thought about it before. What if I went back? Would I feel something? Would it change anything?

But she never did.

Because what if nothing changed at all?

Kaito sighed, tapping his fingers lightly against the table. “Didn’t think they’d choose that trail.”

“Me neither.” Kana swallowed. “Are you gonna tell Ren?”

Kaito flinched slightly, then covered it up with a shrug. “You think I should?”

Kana hesitated. “I don’t know.”

She and Kaito could barely talk about this. Ren? He never even brought it up.

Kaito let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’ll go well.”

They both fell silent again.

For the first time in a long time, Yui’s name lingered in the air between them.

Not spoken. But felt.

It had been so long since they talked about her. Not because they didn’t care, but because it was too hard.

Because what do you even say?

After a while, Kaito broke the silence, voice quieter than before. “You ever think about going back?”

Kana exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of her tray.

“…Yeah.”

Kaito nodded, staring down at the table. “Yeah. Me too.”

But neither of them said if they actually would.

And maybe that was answer enough.

* * *

Ren hated this.

Not the project. Not the class.

Not even Aoi, who—despite her recklessness and irritating persistence—wasn’t really the problem.

It was Kana.

Kana, who knew better. Kana, who knew he didn’t want to work with anyone, didn’t want to get involved, didn’t want to be forced into anything—especially not this.

And yet, she pushed anyway.

Ren clenched his fists, staring at his desk. Why?

Why did she always have to interfere?

She knew. She, better than anyone, knew that he wasn’t the same anymore.

He didn’t know how to be around people.

How to talk.
How to smile.
How to be approachable.

He had forgotten what that even felt like.

Because that person—the old Ren, the one who laughed, the one who lived, the one who knew how to be warm—

That person had died a year ago.

With Yui.

Her name sat heavy in his chest, suffocating, like it always did.

Yui…

The moment he lost her, his world had shattered. The guilt, the grief—it consumed everything.

Somehow, he survived this past year, but was it really living?

He breathed, but it felt empty.
He existed, but it meant nothing.

How long could he keep doing this?

How long before even surviving wasn’t enough?

* * *

The conversation with Kaito haunted Kana.

Yui’s name. That name.

A name that had never left her, never stopped lingering in their memories.

Yui had been her cousin, her best friend, her family.

Graceful, beautiful, soft-hearted Yui.

Everyone had loved her. Their family, their friends… Ren.

And Kaito.

Kana closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the table.

Kaito never said it.

He never had to.

She had always known.

She watched him love Yui—from the sidelines, from the shadows, from the space in between where unspoken things stayed buried.

He had let Yui go.

Because Yui had loved Ren.

And Kaito, being Kaito, never stood in their way.

He had supported her, protected her, loved her—all while knowing that Yui’s heart had already belonged to someone else.

Kana had never resented Yui for that.

Because how could she?

Yui was Yui—the kind of person who gave love so naturally, effortlessly, selflessly.

She had been the moon in their world—soft and steady, lighting up the darkness without ever asking for anything in return.

And now that she was gone…

That darkness was all that was left.

Kana opened her eyes, swallowing hard.

Even with Yui gone, her memory lingered.

It lingered in Ren, in Kaito, in all the places where love had once been.

And Kana—what was she supposed to do with that?

* * *

Kaito had always loved Yui.

He never said it.

Never admitted it.

Never even let himself think about it too much.

Because Yui had loved Ren.

And Kaito… Kaito had accepted that.

Because loving someone didn’t mean owning them.

It meant wanting them to be happy.

And Yui had been happy.

With Ren.

That was what mattered.

So Kaito had done what he always did—he laughed, he teased, he kept the mood light.

He let Yui be with the one she loved.

Because if it made her smile, it was enough.

But when she was gone…

It wasn’t just her life that had shattered.

His world had crumbled too.

Because Yui wasn’t supposed to disappear.

She was so stubborn. So full of life, so soft and fierce all at once.

She had given her heart to Ren, but Kaito had loved her anyway.

And now…

She was gone.

And the worst part?

Kaito didn’t even know if he had the right to grieve her the way Ren and Kana did.

Ren had been her love. Kana had been her family.

And Kaito?

Kaito was just a friend.

Just the idiot who had loved her quietly, from the sidelines, for years.

He didn’t shut down like Ren—he couldn’t.

He didn’t fall apart. Didn’t withdraw from the world.

What right did he have to?

So instead, he kept going.

Kept smiling.

Kept pretending the world hadn’t gone empty without her in it.

But no matter how much he laughed, no matter how much he distracted himself—

The world still felt empty.

And he didn’t know if it would ever feel full again.

* * *

Chapter 5: A Study in Silence (and Arguments)

The library was dead silent.

Except, of course, for Aoi’s constant sighs of frustration.

She sat across from Ren at a wooden table, a pile of books between them, as she stared at his completely unreadable face.

“So,” she began, for the third time, tapping a pencil against her notebook. “We need to decide what case to analyze.”

Ren didn’t even look up from the page he wasn’t reading.

Aoi exhaled sharply. Okay. Fine. She could be patient.

“Are we going for a real case,” she asked, “or fictional? We could do Poirot, Holmes, or—” She brightened, eyes gleaming. “Oh! Detective Conan—”

“No.”

The flat one-word rejection made her eye twitch.

Aoi sat back, folding her arms. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, why not?”

Ren shrugged.

That was it. A shrug.

Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be a long project.

“So what do you want to analyze?” she pushed.

Silence.

Ren didn’t answer. Didn’t even glance up.

Aoi groaned. “Seriously?”

More silence.

Aoi clenched her jaw, gripping her pencil like a weapon. Patience, Aoi. Deep breaths.

She glanced at her notes, trying to salvage this terrible partnership. “Okay. If not Conan, what about Poirot? He’s brilliant, sophisticated, and—”

“No,” Ren repeated.

Aoi narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Sherlock?”

Another shrug.

Aoi leaned forward, hands slamming onto the table. “Okay, if you don’t pick, I’m choosing for us.”

Ren finally looked up.

His gaze was unreadable, but Aoi caught the tiniest flicker of exasperation.

“…Then choose.”

Aoi glared. Oh my god, I hate this guy.

And right before she could explode—

“Aoiii, how’s your bonding time going?”

Aoi turned, relieved beyond words, as Kana and Kaito appeared out of nowhere.

Kaito slung an arm around Aoi’s chair, grinning. “I bet you’re having so much fun.”

Aoi deadpanned. “Oh, it’s a blast. Really, I’m having the time of my life.”

Kana snorted before eyeing Ren, who was still unreadable as ever. “How much of this discussion has he actually participated in?”

Aoi held up a big, fat zero with her fingers.

Kana sighed, sitting down. “Ren, you do realize you have to contribute, right?”

Ren exhaled sharply. “I didn’t say no to Sherlock.”

Aoi sat up. “Wait. So Sherlock is fine?”

Ren shrugged again.

“Oh my god, what does that even mean?”

Kaito grinned. “You guys are great. This is the best partnership ever.”

“Shut up.” Aoi and Ren said at the same time.

Kaito laughed, holding up his hands. “Alright, alright. Let’s take this debate somewhere less suffocating—cafeteria?”

Kana nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Aoi could’ve kissed them for rescuing her.

Well. Not literally. But still.

* * *

The moment they got their food, the discussion heated up.

Kana, now fully invested in the conversation, leaned forward. “We should go with Poirot. His deductive reasoning is far superior.”

Kaito snorted. “Yeah, sure. If you like long-winded explanations that take forever.”

Kana gasped. “Excuse you! Poirot’s methods are meticulous!”

Kaito smirked. “Sherlock’s better. He doesn’t just sit in a chair thinking all day—he acts.“

Aoi looked between them. “Okay, why are you two more invested than Ren and I?”

Kaito waved her off. “Shh, the adults are talking.”

Aoi threw a fry at him.

Kana ignored them, turning to Ren. “Ren. Tiebreaker. Poirot or Holmes?”

Ren, who had been completely silent this whole time, simply took a sip of his coffee.

Aoi groaned. “Of course.”

Then, she hesitated. “What about a real-life case?”

Ren’s expression shifted.

It was barely noticeable—but for the first time, his indifference wavered.

A split second. A barely-there flicker of tension.

And then—

“No,” Ren said, tone flat.

Kaito’s usual easygoing demeanor also dimmed slightly. “Too real,” he muttered, voice quieter.

There was something in the way he said it.

Something off.

Aoi felt it. And judging by the brief glance Kana gave Kaito, she felt it too.

But just as quickly as it came, Kaito masked it with a grin. “Besides, real cases are depressing. Who wants that when we can analyze fictional geniuses?”

Aoi didn’t push. But something told her… there was more to it.

* * *

After finishing lunch, Kana checked the time. “I’ve got violin practice. You guys behave.”

Aoi laughed. “No promises.”

As Kana got up, she casually asked, “Oh, by the way, where do you live, Aoi?”

“Apartment block 5,” Aoi answered easily. “Top floor.”

Kana nodded absentmindedly, but Kaito paused, brow furrowing.

“Wait… Block 5, top floor?” he repeated, before suddenly breaking into a wide grin. “Hold up. You live next to Ren, don’t you?!”

Kana froze mid-step. She slowly turned back to Aoi. “Wait… what?”

Aoi sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah, I know.”

Kana and Kaito gaped at her.

Kaito leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “You’re telling me you’ve been Ren’s next-door neighbor this whole time—”

“And didn’t say anything?!” Kana finished.

Ren, who had been completely silent, visibly tensed.

Aoi shrugged, acting unbothered. “I mean, it’s not like we talk.”

Kaito burst out laughing. “Oh, this is fantastic.”

Kana grinned mischievously. “Wait, wait—how did you find out? Did you hear him playing guitar through the walls?”

Aoi huffed. “No, I saw him playing on the balcony the day I moved in.”

Kaito slapped the table. “Oh my god. Ren, you’ve been exposed.”

Ren glared. “I don’t care.”

Aoi smirked. “You sure? ‘Cause you look like you care.”

Kana giggled. “So, Aoi, how does it feel living next to a human thundercloud?”

Aoi pretended to think. “Mm. Well, it’s quiet. No parties. No noise complaints. Kind of nice, actually.”

Kaito grinned. “So you’re saying you like living next to Ren?”

Ren immediately stood up. “I’m leaving.”

Aoi snickered. “Oh no, don’t be shy. We’re bonding.”

Ren walked off.

Kana shook her head, smiling. “You’re having too much fun with this, Aoi.”

Aoi stretched her arms. “It’s called entertainment.”

Kaito leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I give it a week before you start breaking down his icy exterior.”

Aoi scoffed. “Please. I give it three days.”

Kana snorted. “You guys underestimate how stubborn Ren is.”

Kaito leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I dunno, Kana. Maybe Aoi’s got a shot at cracking him.”

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kana shook her head, amused. “He means Ren doesn’t let people in, no matter how persistent they are.”

Aoi crossed her arms. “Well, I’m not trying to get inside his soul or whatever. I just want to survive this stupid project without losing my mind.”

Kaito chuckled. “Mmm. We’ll see.”

* * *

Aoi didn’t know how it got to this, but she found herself walking home with Ren that afternoon. As expected, the walk back to their apartment was awkward.

Aoi kept sneaking glances at Ren. 

Ren, as expected, said nothing the entire walk.

Aoi cleared her throat. “Sooo… fun day, huh?”

Ren didn’t answer.

Aoi sighed. “You know, the silent treatment isn’t exactly helping your I’m-not-a-serial-killer vibe.”

Ren exhaled sharply. “I never said I cared.”

Aoi rolled her eyes. “Wow, what a ray of sunshine you are.”

They reached their doors—side by side.

Aoi turned to him. “Guess we’re stuck with each other, huh?”

Ren didn’t respond.

But just before he disappeared into his apartment, he muttered—so quietly she almost missed it—

“Unfortunately.”

Aoi laughed. “See? We’re already bonding.”

The door slammed shut.

Aoi sighed. She already felt that her life will be challenging from now on. 

* * *

Chapter 6: The Path We Walk

The air smelled like damp earth and pine, the scent of the upcoming hike already clinging to the morning breeze. The hiking club’s basecamp was buzzing with activity—members sorting gear, checking maps, laughing and chatting as they prepared for next week’s big event.

Kana wasn’t sure why she came.

Her steps felt heavier than usual as she approached the familiar gathering space. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to participate.

And then—she bumped into him.

“Whoa,” a familiar voice chuckled. “Careful, Takahashi.”

Kana took a step back, looking up into the sharp but not unkind eyes of Shin Hayasaka, the club leader.

Shin was tall, his rugged presence fitting naturally in this outdoor setting. He wasn’t the loudest person in the club, nor the most commanding, but he had a quiet way of making people listen.

Kana never really spoke to him much. But he was always there—watching, leading, making sure everyone was safe.

“Shin,” Kana greeted, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

He studied her for a moment before casually asking, “So… are you joining the hike next week?”

Kana hesitated.

The question sat heavy between them.

It was such a simple thing, but to her, it wasn’t.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. She knew exactly which trail they were taking.

Yui’s trail.

“I… don’t know yet,” she admitted, voice quieter than she intended.

Shin didn’t push. But she knew he caught it—the hesitation, the deep reluctance she couldn’t hide.

He shifted slightly, looking away, pretending to be casual. “No rush. Just think about it.”

Kana swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”

For a moment, it looked like that was the end of it.

But then Shin hesitated.

He wasn’t one to say things unnecessarily. But as he looked at Kana, something in him—something he didn’t quite understand yet—made him speak.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he murmured.

Kana glanced up at him.

There was something about the way he said it—like it wasn’t just about the hike.

She gave him a faint, understanding smile.

* * *

Shin wasn’t sure when he started noticing Kana.

Maybe it was in high school, when she was always surrounded by her friends—Ren, Kaito, Yui. Back when they were a complete group.

Or maybe it was after.

After everything shattered.

Shin wasn’t close to them. Not really.

But he knew them.

They all went to the same school, and their names, their faces, their stories weren’t something you could just ignore.

And the accident…

Nobody could ignore that.

Even if he hadn’t been there, even if he hadn’t known Yui that well, he knew the weight of what was lost.

He had watched them fall apart in different ways.

Ren shut off from the world. Disappeared into himself like a ghost of who he used to be. He quit the club right after Yui’s accident, as if hiking itself had betrayed him.

Kaito became a performer. Loud, flamboyant, cracking jokes, keeping everyone entertained—but it was all a mask. Shin could see that, even if Kaito thought he was fooling everyone.

And Kana…

Kana just stayed.

Stayed strong. Stayed steady. Stayed being the one everyone else leaned on.

Shin didn’t even know why he cared.

Maybe because he saw it, even if others didn’t.

The way she silently bore the weight of her grief, never asking for help.

The way she smiled, but it never quite reached her eyes.

The way she kept coming to the hiking club—even though she never went near that place.

Shin let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair.

The truth was, he wished the club hadn’t picked that trail.

But it was majority rule.

Most of the newer members didn’t even know the significance of that place for Kana and Kaito.

And Shin wondered—why were they still here?

Ren had left without hesitation. But Kana and Kaito? They stayed.

Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was a way of not letting go.

Or maybe, just like him, they didn’t even know the answer.

Shin sighed, glancing back toward where Kana had walked off.

Whenever you’re ready.

He meant it.

Not just for the hike.

But for everything.

* * *

Chapter 7: The Unplanned Study Session (That Wasn’t Really Studying)

Aoi sat at her desk, head buried in her hands, staring at the utterly useless forensic psychology notes in front of her.

She was doomed.

They were supposed to analyze a case. She was stuck with Ren. Ren, who barely spoke and gave zero effort in brainstorming.

She groaned, rubbing her temples. Maybe I should just drop out and become a traveling sushi chef or something.

And then—

Knock, knock.

She blinked. What the—?

Aoi dragged herself to the door, swinging it open—

And came face-to-face with Kana and Kaito, grinning like two chaos gremlins.

Kaito held up a bag of chips like an offering. “Heard you were suffering.”

Kana lifted an entire grocery bag full of snacks. “So we brought reinforcements.”

Aoi blinked. “I—wait, what? How did you even—”

“You mentioned struggling with the project,” Kana said smoothly, stepping inside like she belonged there. “So we decided to help.”

Kaito grinned, tossing his arm over Aoi’s shoulder. “We’re your emotional support team now.”

Aoi snorted, closing the door behind them. “Oh, great. I feel so much safer now.”

Kana winked as she set the snacks on the table. “Don’t worry. We’ll get through this and even make Ren warm up to the project.”

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “You sound way too confident about that.”

Kana just smirked.

And before Aoi could even process what that meant—

Kaito vanished.

Literally.

One second he was beside her, the next—her door was swinging shut behind him.

Aoi blinked. “Wait. Where did he—?”

Kana casually unwrapped a chocolate bar. “Oh, he’s next door. Retrieving Ren.”

Aoi choked. “HE’S WHAT?”

* * *

Kaito rapped his knuckles against the door.

Silence.

He knocked again, louder this time. “Ren, open up!”

More silence.

Kaito sighed. “Alright. I’m coming in.”

He turned the doorknob—not locked. Of course. Ren wasn’t exactly worried about burglars.

He stepped inside, immediately finding Ren sitting on his couch, arms crossed, staring at nothing.

Ren slowly looked up. “I didn’t invite you in.”

Kaito grinned. “I know.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “Get out.”

Kaito collapsed onto the couch beside him, making himself at home. “Can’t. We have a study session next door.”

Ren stared. “…We?”

Kaito grinned wider. “Yep. You, me, Aoi, Kana. It’s a party.”

Ren’s expression darkened. “Not interested.”

Kaito ignored him, stretching his legs. “C’mon, man. It’s about the project. You care about the project, don’t you?”

Ren deadpanned. “I do not.”

Kaito sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “What a tragedy. A true waste of potential. Sherlock Holmes himself would be disappointed in you.”

Ren scowled. “Don’t bring Sherlock into this.”

“Ah-ha!” Kaito pointed at him. “You do care.”

Ren rubbed his temples. “Kaito.”

“Ren.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.”

Ren sighed, exhausted. “Why?”

Kaito shrugged, tone casual. “Because Kana asked me to make you go.”

Ren froze.

Kaito saw it—the slight tightening of Ren’s jaw, the small flicker of resistance before Ren exhaled sharply.

And just like that—he stood up.

Kaito grinned. Knew it.

“You have ten minutes,” Ren muttered.

Kaito threw an arm around him, dragging him to the door. “Plenty of time, buddy. Let’s go.”

* * *

When Ren stepped inside her apartment, Aoi gawked.

“You actually dragged him here?” she whispered to Kaito.

Kaito whispered back, “It was surprisingly easy. Kana’s name is magic.”

Kana raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Ren grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms as he sat on the floor near the table. “This is stupid.”

Kana offered him a drink like she didn’t hear that. “Tea?”

Ren muttered something unintelligible but took it anyway.

Aoi watched him warily before sighing. “Fine. Since we’re all here, let’s at least get something done.”

Kaito smirked and stretched. “Perfect! Let’s start with the most important question: Which Sherlock Holmes case is the best?”

Aoi blinked. “Wait, what? That’s not—”

“The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot,” Kana said immediately, leaning forward.

“Wrong,” Kaito said. “It’s clearly The Hound of the Baskervilles.”

Kana rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Baskervilles is overrated. Devil’s Foot is psychological horror at its finest.”

Kaito grinned. “Psychological horror is great, but come on—Baskervilles has a giant, supernatural murder dog.”

Kana smirked. “You just like it because it has a dog.”

“Yes.”

Aoi shook her head. “Guys. A Study in Scarlet exists.”

Kaito groaned. “Noooo, Scarlet is so slow.”

Kana pointed at him. “Oh? But you don’t mind Baskervilles’ slow pacing?”

Ren, who had been silent this entire time, suddenly spoke.

“The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot is more uniquely structured than both. It’s one of the rare cases where Sherlock nearly dies, which forces him to acknowledge his own mortality. Structurally, it’s one of Doyle’s most fascinating works.”

Silence.

Three heads turned to Ren.

Ren blinked, realizing too late that he had spoken out loud.

Aoi stared.

Kana’s lips twitched faintly.

And Kaito—bless him—

Slowly. Smirked.

“Well, well, well.” Kaito leaned in. “Would you look at that.”

Ren’s expression immediately closed off again. He turned back to his tea. “I’m done talking.”

Aoi snorted. “Dude, you literally just gave the most passionate analysis of this entire conversation.”

Ren grumbled. “No, I didn’t.”

Kaito nudged Kana. “He totally did.”

Kana, who had been watching Ren carefully, just gave a faint smile. A little relieved.

She didn’t say anything. But Kaito noticed.

And so did Aoi.

* * *

Aoi found herself smiling.

The night had been… fun.

She didn’t expect to genuinely enjoy herself during a study session, but somehow, she did.

She had laughed at Kaito’s dumb jokes. She had sparred with Kana’s sharp logic.

And she had watched Ren—

Not just exist, but actually react to something.

Even if it was just a Sherlock Holmes debate.

But then her gaze drifted to Kana.

To the way she had quietly relaxed when Ren spoke.

To the way Kaito had become extra chatty after that moment.

And Aoi couldn’t shake the thought—

What exactly happened between these three?

* * *

Chapter 8: Whispers and Realizations

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday crowd—students chattering, clattering dishes, the hiss of the coffee machine somewhere behind the counter. Aoi slipped into a seat at one of the corner tables, a tray balanced on her lap.

She intended to eat quickly and leave, maybe bury herself in the library again to brainstorm forensic psych cases. But her plans derailed the moment she caught a snippet of conversation from the table behind her.

“…Kaito’s so cute, right? But that Ren—God, he’s so icy.”

Aoi’s ears perked up.

Ren and Kaito.

Her new friend (if she could call him that) and her infuriating project partner. The mention alone piqued her curiosity enough to make her slow down.

She wasn’t eavesdropping—not on purpose. It was just that the group of girls behind her was talking loudly, and the cafeteria’s acoustics weren’t helping.

“Still,” one girl chimed in, “he’s hot in that mysterious tortured soul way. I’d date him if he wasn’t so… you know… unattainable.”

Aoi rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. Ren? That ice-cold guy? Really?

Another girl giggled. “Kaito’s more approachable. People say he’s funny and outgoing—though I heard he’s got a painful past, too.”

Aoi paused, her cup halfway to her lips. A painful past?

She tried not to listen, but something in her chest told her to hold still.

“Yeah,” the first girl said, her voice dropping slightly. “Remember Kana? She’s in the hiking club? It’s her cousin—I think her name was Yui. She… died.”

A slight hush fell over the group, as if they realized this wasn’t just gossip anymore.

Aoi’s heart twisted, and she didn’t even understand why.

“She was apparently so pretty, graceful, and, like… the total opposite of them. But somehow, they were always together—Ren, Kaito, and Yui.”

“I heard she was the only one who could calm Ren down back when he was, you know, more energetic or something.”

“And Kaito…” another girl lowered her voice. “People say he loved her, too. But she chose Ren. It’s all so… tragic.”

Aoi felt a knot in her stomach tighten. Was that why Kaito covered up his sadness with jokes? Why Ren was so completely closed off? Why Kana always seemed like she was watching them, ready to catch them if they fell?

“That’s why they changed so much,” someone else chimed in. “It’s like that girl’s death shattered them.”

Aoi realized she was holding her breath.

“Poor Kana, too. She lost her cousin. Must’ve been horrible.”

“But I hear Kaito’s bouncing back. He’s still super friendly—but some say it’s just a mask.”

“I’d still date him,” another joked, though her tone wasn’t as playful. “But Ren… I guess he’s still not over it. I wonder if anyone can melt that ice.”

Aoi’s chest ached. She set down her cup, staring at the table, the rest of her lunch forgotten.

Why was her heart pounding? Why did this story make her feel so… heavy?

She didn’t even know Yui.

She had only known Ren, Kana, and Kaito for a short while.

Yet, the idea of Yui—this delicate, graceful girl who had once been the core of their group—gone too soon…

Aoi felt an odd sting at the corner of her eyes.

She blinked, startled by the warmth on her cheeks. When she reached up, her fingertips grazed something wet.

Tears?

She swallowed. Why am I crying?

She wiped them away quickly, hoping no one noticed.

The conversation behind her drifted to other topics—like midterm exams and some upcoming campus festival. But Aoi’s thoughts stayed stuck on what she’d just overheard.

So that’s what happened…

She pushed her tray aside, her appetite gone.

Ren’s coldness. Kaito’s joking. Kana’s gentle watchfulness.

They were all living with a piece of their hearts missing.

And she—the clueless outsider—had no idea just how deep that wound went.

She didn’t owe them anything, did she? They weren’t her responsibility. She wasn’t a therapist, she wasn’t family—she was just some random girl who barged into their lives because of a project.

Yet…

The tears that had fallen – without her even realizing it – told her she cared anyway.

She sighed, standing up and collecting her tray with unsteady hands.

Why am I like this? Why do I feel so sad for a girl I never met, for three people I barely know?

But deep down, she already knew the answer.

Because sometimes, you don’t need a long history with someone to feel their pain—sometimes, it’s enough to see the shadows in their eyes, or hear the unspoken longing in their voices.

And Aoi realized, in that moment, she was already caught in their tragedy, whether she wanted to be or not.

* * *

Chapter 9: The Things Left Unsaid

The air outside the swimming complex was cool and fresh, a nice contrast to the heated pool Aoi had just spent an hour training in. Her wet hair clung to her skin as she slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, adjusting the strap as she stepped outside.

And of course—there he was.

Kaito, casually leaning against the campus benches like he owned the place, spinning his phone in his hand.

Aoi squinted at him. “Do you always just conveniently appear when people least expect it?”

Kaito grinned. “It’s my special talent. That, and looking ridiculously good while doing absolutely nothing.”

Aoi rolled her eyes. “Modesty just isn’t in your vocabulary, huh?”

He smirked. “It was removed at birth. Sad, really.”

She snorted, sitting down beside him, wringing out some water from the tips of her hair. Kaito made a mock scandalized face.

“Whoa, whoa, careful, Suzuka. That’s sacred water. What if I melt?”

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “What, are you actually a witch?”

“Maybe,” he wiggled his fingers. “Or maybe I’m just so hot that even the water can’t handle me.”

Aoi snorted again, shaking her head. “God, Ren must have so much patience dealing with you.”

Kaito grinned. “Oh, he doesn’t. That’s the fun part.”

Aoi laughed, the conversation flowing as easily as it always did.

And yet…

Now, she saw it.

The way his smile flickered too quickly.

The way his laugh never fully reached his eyes.

The way his energy was just a little too much, like he was making up for something.

Before today, she might’ve brushed it off as Kaito just being an effortlessly funny, carefree guy.

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“You know,” Aoi started, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t get it.”

Kaito hummed, tossing a small pebble into the air and catching it. “What’s that?”

“You and Ren,” she said, side-eyeing him. “You guys are like… opposites. Why do you even put up with each other?”

Kaito grinned. “Oh, that’s easy. Because he secretly loves me.”

Aoi barked out a laugh. “Right. That sounds so realistic.”

“Mm, I know, right?” Kaito said, stretching his arms. “Nah, but honestly? It’s just how we work. I poke at him, he glares at me, and somewhere in between, we tolerate each other.”

Aoi tilted her head. “And that’s enough?”

For just a fraction of a second, Kaito’s smirk dimmed.

Then, just as quickly, it was back. “Well, it’s not like he’s capable of saying ‘I appreciate you, Kaito’ out loud, so I take what I can get.”

Aoi felt something tighten in her chest.

She wanted to ask more. She wanted to push.

But she knew—this wasn’t something Kaito would admit so easily.

So instead, she smirked. “Wow. Sounds like you’re in a one-sided toxic relationship.”

Kaito burst out laughing, shoving her shoulder. “Oh, absolutely. But let’s be real—Ren’s life would be so boring without me.”

Aoi smiled, shaking her head. But in the back of her mind, she saw the cracks in his mask clearer than ever.

* * *

The library was quiet.

Not just quiet, but Ren’s kind of quiet—the kind that didn’t feel suffocating, that let him breathe without the weight of unwanted noise.

He sat across from Kana, both of them working silently—Ren reading a psychology case study, Kana absentmindedly highlighting passages in her notes.

It was peaceful.

Until—

“How is everything with Aoi?”

Ren’s hand stilled on the page.

Kana had asked the question so nonchalantly, like she was talking about the weather.

He didn’t answer.

Kana sighed, not expecting one.

She went back to her notes, flipping a page, but Ren could feel it—the weight of her presence, waiting, expecting.

And for some reason, it irritated him.

After a long moment, he finally spoke.

“Why did you force her onto me?”

Kana paused.

For the first time, she hesitated.

Ren lifted his gaze, watching as she set her pen down, her fingers curling around the edge of the book.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft.

“Because I think you need to live again, Ren.”

His fingers tightened slightly on the page.

Kana didn’t look at him. She didn’t press, didn’t demand a reaction. She just… let the words sit there.

Ren’s chest felt tight.

He didn’t reply.

Kana didn’t expect him to.

Instead, she simply turned back to her notes, the conversation already over.

But Ren…

Ren couldn’t turn back so easily.

* * *

Chapter 10: The Memory That Lingers and The Weight to Move Forward

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator.

Ren sat at his desk, fingers resting against the edge, his gaze drawn—inevitably, unconsciously—to the photograph propped up near his books.

It sat there undisturbed, just as it always did. A relic of another time. Another life.

A picture of him and Yui.

Taken by Kana, before everything changed—before his world shattered into something unrecognizable.

The image wasn’t extraordinary. Just him and Yui standing side by side, sunlight filtering over their faces, the mountain air crisp behind them. Both of them were smiling.

Ren traced his eyes over the curve of Yui’s soft, quiet expression.

She had never been a nature-person.

That was his thing, Kaito’s thing, Kana’s thing.

Yui had been about poetry, bookstores, quiet cafes where the world moved slowly enough to catch every fleeting thought.

She had followed them into the wild, the rivers, the mountain trails, not because she belonged there, but because she wanted to be with him.

And he had let her.

Ren clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the desk.

I should’ve told her no.

If only he had spent more time in her world instead of dragging her into his.
If only he had stayed with her in the quiet instead of chasing the thrill of movement.
If only he had thought for one second that he didn’t have to share every part of himself with her.

Yui would still be alive.

A sharp, suffocating ache spread through his chest.

He forced his gaze away from the picture, pressing his fingers against his temple.

Kana.

She was pushing Aoi onto him. He knew that now.

He knew why.

He knew she was worried.

But what Kana didn’t understand—what she couldn’t understand—was that if Ren let himself open up, move forward, heal…

It would mean betraying Yui.

And he would never do that.

* * *

The night air was crisp as Kana walked through the quiet campus streets, the sound of her own footsteps too loud in her ears.

Her mind wouldn’t settle.

She was worried.

About Ren. About Kaito. About herself.

Were they ever going to be okay again.

Some days, she thought they were healing.
Some days, she thought they were frozen in time.

When Aoi came into their lives, it was… different.

She wasn’t tangled in their past. She wasn’t tiptoeing around memories, trying not to mention Yui’s name.

With Aoi, Kana felt like she could breathe a little easier—she could exist without the crushing weight of grief pressing down on every interaction.

But Ren—

Ren refused to see it.

Kana had known him for years, since before all of this.

And now, he was someone else.

Cold. Isolated. Trapped.

The Ren she used to know wouldn’t let himself fade like this.

The Ren she used to know would have fought to keep going.

But now…

Now she was afraid to leave him alone, afraid that if she didn’t push him, he would never return to the world at all.

And Kaito…

Kaito wasn’t lost like Ren, but he wasn’t fine either.

He laughed, joked, kept everything light, but she knew.

She knew.

His grief was still there. It sat just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment when no one was watching.

And sometimes…

Sometimes, Kana wondered if she was the problem.

If she was the one trapping them in the past.

Ren and Kaito had loved Yui with everything they had.

Now, she was gone.

And Kana was the one left behind.

And sometimes, she couldn’t help but wonder—

Would it have been easier for them if it had been her instead?

* * *

Chapter 11: Aoi vs. The Mouse, Featuring an Unwilling Ren

It started with a scream.

A loud, high-pitched, borderline horror-movie-level scream.

Ren, half-asleep in his apartment, blinked slowly at the ceiling.

Another scream. Followed by a loud BANG BANG BANG against his door.

For a brief moment, he considered ignoring it.

Then—

“REN TAKUMI OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW!”

Ren let out a long, exhausted sigh.

Slowly, painfully, he got up, dragging himself toward the door like a man marching toward his execution.

He swung it open mid-bang, and Aoi nearly punched him in the face.

“What.” His voice was flat, deadpan, unimpressed.

Aoi was breathless, eyes wide with pure panic.

“THERE’S A MOUSE IN MY APARTMENT.”

Ren blinked once. Then twice. Then, as if to clarify, said:

“A mouse.”

“YES, A MOUSE, REN. A LITERAL TERROR RAT.”

Ren stared. Expression blank. Silence stretched.

Then—he started closing the door.

“NO, YOU DON’T!” Aoi shoved her foot in the doorway, stopping him.

Ren let out another slow, tired breath. “Why,” he said, voice monotone, “is this my problem?”

“Because!” Aoi flailed dramatically. “You’re my neighbor! And you’re a guy! And guys deal with things like this! It’s in the rulebook!”

Ren gave her a look. “There’s a rulebook?”

“YES,” she hissed, gripping his sleeve. “And in the rulebook, it says you have to help me hunt it down before it kills me.”

Ren pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mice don’t kill people.”

“I’LL BE THE FIRST, REN.”

* * *

Five minutes later, Ren found himself standing in Aoi’s apartment, arms crossed, looking incredibly unimpressed.

Aoi stood on top of her couch, wrapped in a blanket like some traumatized war survivor.

“Where was it last?” Ren asked.

Aoi pointed dramatically toward the kitchen. “It RAN UNDER THE COUNTER. LIKE A DEMON.”

Ren sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “It’s just a mouse, not a serial killer.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT, REN.”

Ignoring her, Ren grabbed a broom and crouched near the counter. He gave it a small nudge.

Silence.

Then—a tiny squeak.

“OH MY GOD IT’S STILL THERE.” Aoi shrieked, leaping onto the couch like it was lava.

Ren, still deadpan, muttered, “Brave.”

“SHUT UP, JUST GET IT OUT.”

Ren nudged the counter again. The mouse scurried out at lightning speed.

Aoi’s soul left her body.

She jumped off the couch, scrambled behind Ren, and grabbed his shoulders, using him as a human shield.

Ren just stood there, arms crossed, staring down at the mouse like it personally offended him.

The mouse paused.

Ren paused.

Aoi, clutching Ren’s back like a lifeline, whispered, “Do something.”

The mouse tilted its head.

Ren sighed. “What do you expect me to do, negotiate with it?”

“YES. OR KILL IT. I DON’T CARE.”

Ren rubbed his temples. “I’m not killing it.”

Aoi gasped. “SO YOU’RE ON ITS SIDE?”

Ren turned his head slightly toward her. “Yes, Aoi. I have secretly been working for the mice this entire time.”

Aoi swatted his shoulder. “YOU BETRAYED ME!”

Ren, ignoring her dramatics, grabbed a container from the counter and trapped the mouse underneath.

“Congratulations,” he said flatly. “You survived.”

Aoi peeked from behind him. “Wait. That’s it?”

Ren tilted his head slightly. “What, did you expect a sword fight?”

Aoi groaned, collapsing onto the couch in relief. “I can’t believe I’m alive.”

Ren muttered, “I can’t believe I’m still here.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Ren had successfully relocated the mouse outside while Aoi dramatically scrubbed every surface in her kitchen.

“You realize it’s probably not diseased, right?” Ren said.

Aoi shot him a look. “I don’t care. I’m traumatized. You don’t just move on after a near-death experience.”

Ren gave her the most unimpressed look ever. “Near-death.”

“YES, NEAR-DEATH.”

Ren exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Again.

“Just… lock your food up better,” he muttered.

Aoi narrowed her eyes. “Are you blaming me?”

Ren sighed. “Yes, Aoi. This was a targeted attack because you left a cookie out.”

“SEE? YOU ADMIT IT!”

Ren stared at her. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Aoi grabbed his sleeve before he could walk out. “For real. Thanks for helping.”

Ren paused.

For a moment, she thought he might say something back.

Then—

“Next time, call Kaito.”

And with that, he walked out.

Aoi stared after him.

Then smirked.

“Yeah,” she muttered to herself, “like Kaito would’ve actually helped.”

* * *

Ren stepped into his apartment, closing the door behind him.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.

For a moment, he just stood there, the silence pressing against him.

It was only then that he realized—

For the first time in a long, long time, he had been dragged into something completely normal.

No grief. No memories. No heavy weight in his chest.

Just ridiculous, unnecessary chaos.

And as much as he would never admit it—

It hadn’t been… terrible.

Ren scoffed to himself, shaking his head.

Then, without thinking, he glanced at the clock.

And realized—

He had spent over an hour in Aoi’s apartment.

Longer than he had planned.

Longer than he had willingly spent around anyone in a long time.

Ren exhaled, brushing the thought away.

It didn’t mean anything.

It was just one stupid mouse.

And yet…

For the first time in forever, his mind wasn’t completely drowning in the past.

Chapter 12: Coffee Debates & Ghosts of the Past

The cafeteria was already buzzing with the morning crowd, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Aoi sat across from Kana and Kaito, stirring her espresso as she recounted last night’s battle for survival.

“So, Ren saved the day and became a legendary mouse slayer?” Kaito laughed, leaning back in his chair.

Aoi smirked, shaking her head. “Well…he didn’t actually slay it.”

Kana raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Aoi sighed dramatically. “Let’s just say, it was more of a… strategic relocation.”

Kaito burst out laughing. “You mean he just caught it and threw it outside?”

“Yes! But listen,” Aoi pointed at him, “the way he looked at that mouse? Pure intimidation. The mouse knew it lost the battle.”

Kana chuckled. “I can imagine. Ren has that effect on people too.”

Kaito grinned mischievously. “Should we start calling him Ren the Exterminator?”

Aoi snickered. “Honestly? Wouldn’t be the worst nickname for him.”

Right on cue, Ren walked into the cafeteria, tray in hand, looking as unimpressed with life as ever.

Kaito immediately perked up, smirking. “Ah! Speak of the devil.”

Ren barely glanced at them before sitting down. “Don’t.”

Aoi grinned. “Come on, Ren the Exterminator. Own your title.”

Kana, holding back a chuckle, took a sip of her mocha. “It’s a very noble calling, you know.”

Ren sighed. “I regret ever opening my door last night.”

“See? This is why you should’ve just let me die,” Aoi declared.

Kaito wiped away a fake tear. “What a tragedy that would have been.”

Ren ignored them all, taking a slow sip of his black coffee.

* * *

“You know,” Kaito mused, changing the topic, “for all your dramatics, Suzuka, I must say, your coffee choice is excellent.”

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “Espresso shots?”

“Pure. Strong. No nonsense,” Kaito nodded approvingly. “It suits you.”

Kana smirked. “You say that, but you drink caramel macchiatos.”

Kaito gasped. “Excuse you, caramel macchiatos are the perfect balance of bitter and sweet. It’s a masterpiece of coffee engineering.”

Aoi snorted. “No, it’s just an excuse to drink sugar.”

Kana chuckled. “Agreed. A proper coffee should be bold but balanced. Cafe mocha, with just enough chocolate to complement the strength of the espresso.”

Kaito rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Kana, the sophisticated coffee snob.“

Aoi smirked. “You just don’t have taste.”

Kaito clutched his chest dramatically. “The betrayal. The disrespect.”

Ren, as usual, remained silent, sipping his black coffee like he was above the conversation.

Aoi side-eyed him. Then blinked.

“Wait. You take your coffee black?”

Ren didn’t bother looking at her. “Yes.”

Aoi grinned. “See, Kaito? He has taste.”

Kana raised an eyebrow. “Actually, now that I think about it—Aoi and Ren do have weirdly similar preferences.”

Kaito gasped theatrically. “Oh my god. It’s true.”

Ren froze mid-sip. Aoi’s grin faltered.

They both simultaneously looked at each other.

A beat of silence.

Then—

“No.” Ren said flatly.

“Absolutely not.” Aoi said at the same time.

Kaito howled with laughter. “This is the best morning ever.”

Kana, sipping her mocha, smirked. “It’s just an observation.”

Aoi shuddered. “I refuse to accept that I have anything in common with this ice block.”

Ren looked equally unimpressed. “Good.”

Kaito wiped away a fake tear. “I’m so glad I’m here for this moment.”

* * *

Things were light and easy, laughter still lingering between them.

Then—

“Hey, Kaito! Kana!”

A voice cut through the conversation, and Aoi turned to see Toru from the hiking club approaching their table, an easy grin on his face.

Ren, Kaito, and Kana immediately tensed.

Aoi noticed the shift instantly.

Toru, completely unaware, continued cheerfully. “We’ve got a meeting later this afternoon! Are you guys coming?”

Kaito’s smile dimmed, but he forced a casual shrug. “Ah, right. That’s today.”

Kana, suddenly more reserved, gave a polite nod. “We’ll see.”

Toru beamed. “You should! The east trail is going to be amazing—it’s been too long since we’ve used that route.”

Aoi felt it.

The way the mood plummeted like a sudden drop in temperature.

Ren stiffened, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup.

Kaito’s usual grin vanished completely.

Kana looked down, expression unreadable.

Aoi didn’t understand—but she felt the weight of something unspoken in the air.

Toru, still oblivious, chuckled. “Anyway, just think about it! See you guys later!”

He walked away, leaving behind a silence that felt too heavy for such a simple conversation.

Aoi swallowed, glancing between the three of them.

Ren had gone completely still, his gaze locked on the table.

Kaito was suddenly fixated on stirring his coffee, not saying a word.

And Kana…

Kana took a slow breath, then forced a small, practiced smile, as if nothing had happened.

Aoi didn’t know what had just shifted.

But she felt it.

Something about that trail.

Something about Yui.

And for the first time since meeting them, she realized—

There was still so much she didn’t know.

* * *

Chapter 13: The Song That Haunts Us

The music room was empty when Kana entered.

It was exactly what she wanted.

She closed the door behind her, setting her violin case on the chair by the window. The late afternoon sun streamed through the glass, casting long golden streaks across the polished floor.

Calm. She needed that.

She needed something other than grief.

With steady hands, she lifted her violin, resting it beneath her chin. The bow slid effortlessly across the strings, the first notes of Vocalise filling the quiet space.

Soft. Lingering. Haunting.

The melody floated like a memory, swelling and dipping in waves of melancholy. The piece was wordless, yet somehow, it spoke volumes.

Kana closed her eyes.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself feel.

She played effortlessly, the way she always did when no one was watching.

Except—

Someone was.

* * *

Aoi had only come to watch Kana practice.

It wasn’t something she had planned—she was just passing by, saw the door slightly open, and… stayed.

She wasn’t sure why.

Maybe because she had never heard Kana play before.
Maybe because it felt like walking into something sacred.
Maybe because Kana, who always carried herself with calm confidence, now looked so—lost in the music.

Aoi didn’t know much about classical music, but she knew what emotion sounded like.

And this?

This was grief wrapped in sound.

Each note ached, each phrase lingered, like something that refused to be forgotten.

And yet, there was something else, too.

Something beautiful.

Aoi barely noticed the two others standing nearby.

* * *

Kaito hadn’t meant to stop.

He was on his way to find Kana, to drag her to the hiking club meeting.

But the moment he heard the music—

He froze.

His chest tightened, his fingers curling slightly at his sides.

Because he knew this song.

He knew why Kana was playing it.

Be As You Were When We Met.

Yui’s favorite.

The last time he heard Kana play it, Yui was beside her.

A small, soft smile, her eyes closed, swaying slightly to the melody.

Kaito swallowed.

For so long, he had been caught up in Ren’s grief, his own grief, everything that shattered after Yui was gone.

But now, watching Kana play—he realized something.

It wasn’t just him and Ren who had lost her.

Kana had lost her too.

And maybe, just maybe—Kana had been carrying that loss alone this whole time.

* * *

Shin had been passing by.

That was all.

A casual walk down the hall, on the way to the club meeting. 

Until he heard the music.

Until he saw her.

Kana, eyes closed, completely absorbed in the sound.

Shin had seen many sides of her.

The calm, composed one that people admired.
The sharp, observant one that never missed a detail.
The steadfast one that stood beside Ren and Kaito, even when they didn’t realize she was holding them together.

But this—

This was something else.

This was grief.

Raw. Deep. So carefully hidden that no one noticed—until she played.

Shin didn’t know what compelled him to stay.

Maybe it was because he had always been watching her from the sidelines.
Maybe it was because, for the first time, he realized—

Kana was on the edge, too.

And he had no idea if she would ever let herself step back.

His eyes flickered to the side.

Kaito was there too.

Watching.

Feeling it.

Shin exhaled softly.

Maybe Kaito was the one who should reach out to her.

Maybe Shin should just keep walking.

But somehow, he couldn’t.

* * *

The final note hung in the air, stretching into silence.

Kana exhaled, lowering her violin.

And then, she felt it.

Eyes.

She turned—

And saw Aoi first, standing near the door, watching her quietly.

Then, a little further back, Kaito.

And even further behind him, Shin.

She blinked, startled.

No one said anything.

For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of the song still lingering between them.

Then—

Kaito forced a small, easy smile.

“So… skipping out on the meeting to have a private concert?”

Kana huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “I forgot the time.”

Kaito didn’t believe her.

Neither did Shin.

But no one called her out on it.

Aoi, still near the door, spoke softly.

“That was beautiful.”

Kana hesitated.

Aoi didn’t know.

She didn’t know why that song haunted her, why she could never play it without feeling like she was standing at the edge of something she couldn’t escape.

But somehow, Aoi’s words felt honest.

Kana managed a small smile. “Thanks.”

Kaito cleared his throat, shaking off the weight of the moment.

“Alright, let’s go. You can play sad songs later, we’ve got a meeting.”

Kana gave him a look. “You’re the one who skipped the meeting to stand here and listen.”

Kaito grinned. “Guilty.”

Shin, who had been silent all this time, finally stepped back, turning to leave.

But not before Kana caught the way his gaze lingered on her—just for a second.

And somehow, that single glance unsettled her more than anything.

* * *

Chapter 14: The Path We Can’t Walk

The hiking club meeting was already in session when Shin stepped forward, addressing the group with an easy confidence that came naturally to him.

“This is our first major hike of the semester,” he started, his voice calm and steady. “We’ve got new members, some returning ones, and a great opportunity ahead of us. This trip is about the experience—not just reaching the summit, but everything we see along the way.”

He paused, glancing at Toru, who was practically vibrating with excitement. “Toru has the details. Go ahead.”

Toru took over, launching into his usual enthusiastic rundown—the itinerary, the expected weather, the routes they would take.

Shin leaned back against the desk, scanning the room.

His eyes found Kana immediately.

She was sitting quietly, as always, but Shin knew her well enough by now.

Her posture—too rigid.
Her expression—too carefully composed.
Her fingers—tightly clasped together in her lap.

She wasn’t just listening.

She was carrying something.

And Shin had a sinking feeling he already knew what it was.

* * *

Toru flipped to the last page of his notes, practically beaming.

“And this year, we’re bringing back the east trail!”

Silence.

Kana didn’t move, but Shin saw the way her breath hitched.

Beside her, Kaito stiffened.

And in that moment, Shin hated how easily the past crept back into this room.

Because for most of the club, this was just a route.

Just a trail.

But for Kana and Kaito, it was a scar that hadn’t healed.

* * *

The meeting ended, and Shin watched as Kaito pushed out of his chair faster than anyone else.

Kana caught up to him before he could leave.

“You’re not going?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Kaito let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Nope.”

“You didn’t even hesitate.”

Kaito turned to face her, and for once, his usual grin wasn’t there.

“Because I don’t have to,” he said simply.

Kana swallowed. She should’ve expected this.

Ren not going was one thing. That was a given.

But Kaito?

He had been the one still showing up.
Still joking.
Still pretending.

But now, hearing it from him so definitively, she realized—

He hadn’t moved forward at all.

She didn’t know why that surprised her.

Maybe because a small part of her had hoped he was handling things better than she was.

But no.

Kaito had just been better at hiding it.

* * *

“I think I’m going,” Kana said finally.

Kaito blinked.

Then scoffed.

“Wait—really?” His voice wasn’t teasing. It was genuine disbelief.

“Yeah,” Kana murmured.

Kaito studied her, searching for something.

“Because you’re ready?” he asked.

His tone made it clear: Because I’m not.

Kana hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Kaito let out a short laugh. “That’s reassuring.”

Kana didn’t respond.

She didn’t know why she was even considering it.

Maybe because someone had to.

Maybe because Ren wouldn’t, and now Kaito wouldn’t either.

Maybe because if no one went, it would feel like they were pretending Yui never existed.

Kaito rubbed a hand through his hair, sighing.

“If you go,” he muttered, “be careful, okay?”

Kana exhaled. “Yeah.”

And for the first time in a long time—

Neither of them knew what else to say.

* * *

Shin stayed behind after the meeting, watching Kana and Kaito as they left together.

Kaito looked frustrated.

Kana looked… tired.

And Shin?

Shin was getting tired of watching this happen.

Because he saw it.

The way Kana carried the weight of everyone else’s grief.

The way Kaito and Ren were too caught up in their own pain to notice how much she was holding for them.

The way she was standing at the edge of something, and no one was reaching for her.

And maybe—

Maybe he didn’t have the right to either.

But for some reason, he wanted to.

* * *

Later that evening, Kana sat with Aoi outside the campus café, watching people pass by.

“I might go on the hike,” Kana said, testing the waters.

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Kana stirred her coffee. “Do you like hiking?”

Aoi blinked. “Is this a trick question?”

Kana smirked. “Maybe.”

Aoi shrugged. “I mean, I don’t hate it. But I don’t wake up every morning thinking, ‘Wow, I’d love to climb a giant hill today.’”

Kana chuckled. “Fair.”

Aoi leaned forward. “Are you asking because you want me to come?”

Kana hesitated.

Then, softly, “Would you?”

Aoi studied her.

Kana wasn’t asking because she needed a hiking buddy.

She was asking because Aoi wasn’t connected to Yui.

Because Aoi wasn’t carrying the past with her.

And somehow, Kana thought maybe—just maybe—she needed that.

Aoi exhaled, smiling a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Kana let out a faint smile too, “Thank you”

* * *

Chapter 15: The Study Session That Wasn’t Supposed to Work

Aoi sat cross-legged on the floor of Ren’s apartment, flipping through their project notes with dramatic frustration.

“This is impossible,” she declared, tossing a notebook onto the table. “You do realize we have to actually analyze something, right?”

Ren, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, gave her a deadpan look. “I know.”

“Then participate, Ren!” Aoi threw her hands up. “I refuse to be the only one making an effort in this partnership.”

Ren exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples like he was questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

“You’re the one who picked this case,” he muttered.

Aoi pointed at him. “I picked it because it was the only one you didn’t immediately reject! So, technically, this is your fault.”

Ren stared at her. “That logic is flawed.”

Aoi smirked. “I’m annoying you on purpose so you’ll finally contribute.”

Ren sighed, closing his eyes like he was counting to ten in his head.

Then, after a long pause—

“Fine.”

Aoi blinked. “Wait, really?”

Ren rolled his shoulders, grabbing a pen. “If it means you’ll shut up, yes.”

Aoi grinned. “I consider this a victory.”

* * *

Ren flipped through his notes, voice even and detached.

“Sherlock Holmes fits into Jungian personality theory as a dominant introverted thinking type,” he said, tapping the page lightly with his pen.

Aoi blinked. “Okaaaay. That sounds fancy.”

“It means he values logic above everything else,” Ren continued. “His decisions are made based on rationality and patterns, not emotions. He processes everything internally before deciding if it’s worth externalizing.”

Aoi hummed. “So, basically, he’s like you.”

Ren paused. His pen stilled.

Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to her, unimpressed.

“Don’t compare me to Holmes.”

Aoi smirked. “Why not? Detached, brilliant, emotionally unavailable—”

Ren cut her off. “Holmes is also obsessive and socially incompetent.”

Aoi’s grin widened. “Soooo… you’re saying it’s an exact match?”

Ren sighed heavily, looking like he regretted everything.

Aoi laughed, flipping to the next page. “Alright, fine. No more Holmes comparisons. But this is actually helpful. Keep going.”

Ren muttered something under his breath but continued.

“He also exhibits traits of an introverted intuitive type—seeing patterns before others do, predicting behavior based on small details, trusting his insight over traditional logic.”

Aoi nodded. “Right. The whole ‘reads people like a book’ thing.”

Ren tapped his pen against the table. “Which is why Watson works as his counterpart. Watson is extroverted feeling—he’s social, empathetic, and serves as the emotional grounding that Holmes lacks.”

Aoi tilted her head, smirking. “So, basically, Holmes wouldn’t function properly without Watson.”

Ren didn’t respond.

Aoi leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “Let me guess. That’s why you think people like Kaito and Kana are tolerable, huh? They balance things out for you.”

Ren finally looked up. His expression wasn’t amused.

Aoi grinned. “See? I knew I could get you to talk if I annoyed you enough.”

Ren rubbed his temples again. “You are unbearable.”

“And yet, here we are.”

Ren sighed, pushing his notes toward her. “You do the write-up.”

Aoi huffed. “Coward.”

But she took the notes anyway, flipping through them.

For a moment, there was a lull in the conversation.

Then—curiosity got the better of her.

* * *

Aoi tapped her pen against her notebook. “I’ve been wondering something.”

Ren didn’t look up. “That’s concerning.”

Aoi ignored him. “You only listen to Kana.”

Ren’s fingers twitched slightly against the edge of the table.

“You don’t take anyone else’s advice. Kaito messes with you constantly, but you never actually do what he says. You ignore me whenever possible. But if Kana asks you to do something… you do it.”

Ren was silent.

Aoi studied him. “Why?”

Still, no answer.

She tilted her head. “Does she scare you?”

Ren gave her a flat look. “No.”

“Then why?”

Ren leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly.

And for a moment, Aoi thought he wouldn’t answer.

But then, softly, almost too quietly to hear—

“Someone would want me to.”

Aoi froze.

She knew, immediately, who he meant.

Yui.

Her chest felt tight, but she didn’t say anything.

She just watched as Ren turned his attention back to his notes, as if the conversation was already over.

But it wasn’t.

Because now, Aoi knew something she hadn’t realized before.

Ren wasn’t just listening to Kana out of habit.

He was listening to her because, in his mind, it was the closest thing he had left to Yui.

And somehow, that was both heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time.

* * *

Chapter 16: The Echo of a Voice That’s Gone

Aoi’s words wouldn’t leave his mind.

Ren hated that.

He didn’t like lingering thoughts. He didn’t like being forced to reflect.

But here he was, sitting alone at his usual spot in the cafeteria, watching without meaning to, thinking about it anyway.

Why do you always listen to Kana?

Ren had given Aoi an answer, but was it really the truth?

* * *

Across the room, Kana and Kaito were talking with Aoi.

They were animated, their conversation bouncing back and forth between roasting famous psychologists and debating philosophy.

“Nietzsche was just a guy who desperately wanted to be edgy,” Kaito declared, leaning back in his chair.

Aoi snorted. “And Freud was just a guy who needed therapy himself.”

Kana laughed, shaking her head. “You two are impossible.”

Ren watched them.

Or more specifically—he watched Kana.

Her laugh. The way she tilted her head slightly when listening. The way her thoughtful expressions lingered just a second longer than necessary.

He had never thought much about it before, but now, with Aoi’s question digging into him, he realized something that felt… off.

Kana and Yui had always been different.

Yui was soft-spoken, gentle, thoughtful in a way that made you want to lean in and listen.

Kana was sharper, more logical, and she carried herself with the weight of someone who had made up her mind about the world.

But now—

Now that he was paying attention, he could see it.

Something about the way Kana listened, the way she laughed—not just because something was funny, but because she was present, engaged, aware of the moment.

Yui had been like that too.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Ren’s fingers curled around his cup, something in his chest tightening.

Had he always subconsciously noticed this?

Or had Aoi’s words forced him to see what he never wanted to?

* * *

Ren thought again—why did he always listen to Kana?

His immediate answer to Aoi had been simple.

“Because Yui would want me to.”

And that was true.

But it was more than that.

Yui had always listened to Kana.

When she was unsure, when she hesitated, when she needed someone to guide her.

Kana had always been the one Yui trusted most.

And without meaning to—without ever realizing it before now—

Ren had done the same.

A shadow of a thought settled over him.

Had he been letting Kana decide for him because he didn’t trust himself anymore?

Or because he was still following Yui’s lead, even after she was gone?

Ren’s chest felt heavy.

He looked away.

Aoi was still laughing at something Kaito said, completely unaware that she had cracked something open inside him.

He hated that.

* * *

Chapter 17: The Hike That Moves Forward Without Her

The morning was too clear, too normal.

Kana adjusted the straps of her backpack, tightening them with steady hands. She had to be steady.

“Kana.”

She turned to find Kaito watching her, arms crossed, eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“You sure?” he asked, but it wasn’t just about the hike.

Kana offered a small, tired smile. “Yeah.”

Kaito didn’t respond right away. He studied her, as if trying to decide whether to believe her.

Then, exhaling through his nose, he gave a short nod.

“You’re stronger than me, you know that?” he muttered.

Kana’s breath caught for half a second.

She shook her head. “That’s not true.”

Kaito huffed out something between a chuckle and a sigh. “Yeah. It is.”

He looked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“I can’t go,” he added, voice quieter now as if pleading for Kana’s understanding.

“I know,” Kana murmured.

Kaito’s jaw tightened. “We’ve never been there since. And I—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I just can’t.”

It wasn’t an excuse. It was the truth.

Kana didn’t argue.

“That’s okay,” she said softly.

And somehow, it hurt more that she understood.

* * *

Kana turned to Aoi, who was pulling on her hiking boots nearby.

“You still okay with going?” Kana asked.

Aoi looked up, blinking at her. “What, are you trying to ditch me last minute?”

Kana smirked. “Just making sure.”

Aoi stretched her arms. “I mean, I don’t wake up every morning thrilled about hiking, but yeah. I’m in.”

Kaito, listening in, leaned toward Aoi with a grin. “Try not to slow her down. Kana hikes like a machine.”

Aoi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re jealous because I got invited and you didn’t.”

Kaito froze for half a second.

Then smirked. “Please. I like my feet on stable ground.”

But the moment passed too quickly.

Aoi squinted. Then, voice softer, she asked, “Why aren’t you going?”

Kaito didn’t answer right away.

For a moment, he was back on that trail, that day.

Back where everything changed.

“I just—” He shrugged, looking away. “I don’t need to be there.”

Kana watched him carefully but didn’t say anything.

Aoi, for once, didn’t push.

* * *

Shin didn’t talk much in the morning.

But before the group headed out, he found Kana alone, adjusting her backpack.

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

Kana glanced at him. “Yeah?”

A pause.

Shin wasn’t great at this. Reaching out. Saying things.

But he looked at her—the way she held herself up, too steady, too prepared.

“If you need anything,” he murmured, “I’m here.”

Kana froze for just a second.

Then she exhaled through her nose, giving a small, almost teasing smirk. “That almost sounded emotional, Shin.”

Shin huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “I take it back.”

She laughed lightly, shaking her head.

But something in her expression softened.

And Shin wondered if, even for just a second, she had actually let herself believe him.

* * *

The east trail.

It looked the same.

It felt the same.

Kana walked ahead of Aoi, keeping her steps steady, her breathing even. She had prepared for this.

But the second her boots hit the familiar dirt, something inside her twisted.

She could still remember it.

The wind that day.

The sharpness of the air.

The exact moment when the world fell apart.

Aoi was beside her now, matching her pace, but Kana barely registered her presence.

Because all she could feel was Yui.

She reached the spot where it happened.

The place where Yui slipped.

Where she fell.

Where Ren’s hand couldn’t catch her, when that branch broke. 

She stood still.

Then, slowly, she pressed her hands together.

She prayed.

“Yui. Wherever you are… I hope you’re happy.”

“I hope you’re watching over them.”

“I hope you know I tried. That I would’ve traded places with you if I could.”

Her breath trembled.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Her hands clenched tighter.

“I’m sorry I survived.”

* * *

It was the sound that did it.

Not her memories. Not the weight in her chest.

But the sound—

A burst of laughter.

Bright. Carefree.

Further up the trail, the hiking club continued on, chatting, joking, completely unaware of what this place was.

Completely unaware of what it had done to her.

Kana looked up.

Watched as they laughed and talked like this was just another hike.

Because to them, it was.

To them, this was just a normal day.

Her stomach dropped.

The contrast was too much.

For them, life had moved forward.

For them, this was just a trail.

For her?

It was the last place Yui ever stood.

Her breath came out shaky. Her vision blurred.

And before she could stop it—

The grief hit her like a collapsing wave.

Kana broke.

She dropped to her knees, shoulders shaking.

Her hands pressed to the ground, as if touching it could somehow anchor her back to reality.

Because in that moment, she felt like she was falling all over again.

* * *

Aoi felt it first.

She turned, noticing that Kana was no longer beside her.

“Kana?”

She stepped closer—then froze.

Kana was kneeling on the trail, silent tears slipping down her face.

Aoi’s breath caught.

She didn’t know what to do.

Didn’t know how to reach her.

Didn’t know how to hold grief like this.

And then—

Someone else moved first.

* * *

Shin had been a few steps ahead when he heard Aoi’s voice.

He turned—and saw Kana.

His chest tightened immediately.

Because he knew.

He knew this would happen.

And yet, seeing it—watching her fall apart in silence did something to him.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was kneeling beside her.

He didn’t speak right away.

Didn’t say anything useless like “Are you okay?” when it was obvious she wasn’t.

Instead, he hesitated.

Then, carefully, he wrapped his arms around her.

Kana tensed.

For a moment, Shin thought she would push him away.

But then—

Slowly, she let herself lean into him.

Her breath hitched against his shoulder.

Shin exhaled, his voice low, unsure.

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t.

But that was the only thing that he could whisper, because he hoped that she would be okay

* * *

Aoi stood frozen.

She wasn’t the one Kana needed.

She wasn’t the one who could fix this.

But for the first time, she understood something.

Kana wasn’t just strong.

She was exhausted.

She had been holding everything for too long.

And now, here—she finally broke down

Aoi swallowed hard, feeling the weight of this moment settle in her chest.

She didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know if she even had the right to say anything.

But she knew one thing.

From this moment on she couldn’t unsee this.

She couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t bigger than her.

She was part of this now even if she didn’t know how.

* * *