Everything unravels—then slowly, painfully, begins to rebuild. Kana finds herself caught between the comfort of a love she once thought she wanted, and the quiet steadiness of the one who’s always been there. Kaito finally confesses, but it’s too late. Shin steps back, convinced he was never chosen. And Ren, still haunted by Yui’s memory, struggles to let himself care for Aoi—while Aoi wrestles with the fear of being second-best.
“Disclaimer: This story’s ideas, characters, plot, sequencing, and scenes are entirely my original creations. However, 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.“
Chapter 57: The People We Can’t Have
Shin never thought he’d be in this position.
He never thought he’d be the one who had to step back.
For a long time, he believed that Kana needed him.
That he was giving her something Kaito and Ren couldn’t.
That he was her quiet support, her steady presence, her rock.
But now, he wasn’t so sure.
Because it wasn’t just Kana who needed him.
He needed her too.
Shin sat in his room, fingers absentmindedly curled around his phone.
He hadn’t texted her today.
Hadn’t checked in.
Hadn’t let himself be the person she turned to.
And it hurt.
More than he expected.
Because the truth was, he was genuinely happy when he was with her.
The way Kana saw him, the way she spoke to him—it made him feel comfortable, understood.
Like he didn’t have to try.
Like he could just be.
And now, he was supposed to let that go?
Shin clenched his jaw.
He wanted to go to her.
To hold her.
To be the one she could lean on.
To be the one who protected her.
But he couldn’t.
Because he saw it.
At the hospital.
The way Kaito looked at her.
The way Kaito finally started to notice what he had ignored for so long.
The way he was stepping up now.
And wasn’t that what Kana had always wanted?
Kaito.
Not Shin.
Never Shin.
Shin exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.
For a moment—just one small, fleeting moment—
He wished.
Wished that Kana had wanted him instead.
But wishes didn’t change reality.
So he stayed where he was.
On the sidelines.
Where he had always been.
* * *
Aoi wasn’t stupid.
She noticed things.
And lately, she had noticed something different about Ren.
It wasn’t obvious.
It wasn’t dramatic.
But it was there.
In the way he wasn’t as harsh when he spoke to her.
In the way he actually listened to her arguments instead of shutting them down.
In the way he wasn’t as distant as before.
Sometimes, he was even… nice.
And Aoi didn’t know what to do with it.
She had gotten used to Ren being difficult.
To his coldness.
To his sharp words and short temper.
And now…
Now he was shifting.
Now he was changing around her.
And it made her uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t explain.
Because every time she thought about it, she remembered something else.
Something that had never left her mind.
“You’re not Yui. I want Yui.”
Aoi swallowed, fingers tightening around the book she was holding.
She didn’t know why that still lingered in her head.
Didn’t know why it mattered.
Didn’t know if she was supposed to feel something about it.
Because Ren was changing.
But Aoi wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be happy about that.
Or if she was supposed to be wary of it.
Because deep down, she wasn’t sure if Ren was changing because he wanted to.
Or if he was just trying to replace something he had lost.
And Aoi wasn’t sure if she wanted to be a replacement for anyone.
* * *
Chapter 58: The Confession That Came Too Late
Kaito had been feeling restless since leaving the hospital.
Maybe it was because everything had changed while he was recovering.
Or maybe it was because he was realizing things too late.
Either way, getting out of the house and starting his community service gave him something to focus on.
Something other than his own thoughts.
Kana had visited him toward the end of his shift, watching him with an amused look as he finished cleaning up a public park.
“Look at you,” she teased. “A responsible citizen now.”
Kaito sighed dramatically, tossing his gloves aside. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Six months of this, and I might actually turn into a law-abiding adult.”
Kana smirked. “Shocking.”
But despite her teasing, she had come.
And that meant something.
As they walked, they decided on coffee.
Just the two of them.
Like old times.
Except—it didn’t feel like old times.
Something was different.
Because for once, Kaito wasn’t joking.
For once, he wasn’t hiding behind sarcasm.
* * *
The café was quiet, the kind of place that felt separate from the outside world.
Kaito stirred his coffee absently, gaze flickering up to Kana.
She was calm, relaxed, reading the menu as if this was just a normal day.
But for Kaito, it wasn’t.
Because he had been thinking about this for too long now.
And for the first time, he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t feel it.
“Kana.”
She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
Kaito hesitated for a moment, then exhaled slowly.
And then he said it.
“I like you.”
Kana’s breath caught.
Everything froze.
For years, this was the moment she had dreamed of.
For years, this was what she thought she had always wanted.
And yet—now that it was happening…
She felt nothing like she expected.
Kaito wasn’t teasing her.
Wasn’t playing it off like a joke.
He was serious.
Gentle.
Different.
And that was what stunned her the most.
She swallowed, suddenly unsure of everything.
“…Kaito, I—”
She stopped.
Because she didn’t know what to say.
Kaito gave a small, knowing smile.
“You don’t have to answer now,” he said quietly.
Kana’s heart twisted.
Because the Kaito she had always known would have joked about this.
Would have made light of it.
But this Kaito—this version of him—was different.
And suddenly, she wasn’t sure if she was the one who had changed…
Or if it was him.
* * *
Chapter 59: The Avoidance That Backfired
Aoi Suzuka was good at many things.
✔ Debating until people gave up.
✔ Annoying Kaito to the point of exhaustion.
✔ Making everything seem like it didn’t bother her.
But right now?
She was bad at one thing.
Avoiding Ren Takumi.
It had started subtly.
She stopped hanging around as much.
Took different routes on campus.
Conveniently “forgot” to reply to messages.
And Ren noticed.
Of course, he noticed.
At first, he thought maybe he was imagining it.
Then he tested the theory.
He stepped into the library one afternoon.
Aoi was there.
The moment she saw him?
She grabbed her things and left.
That’s when he knew.
She was avoiding him.
And Ren Takumi did not like being ignored.
* * *
Ren found her on campus two days later.
She was heading to class, walking a little too fast.
Like she could sense him.
Ren caught up easily, matching her pace without a word.
Aoi glanced sideways—saw him—and picked up speed.
Ren did the same.
Aoi walked faster.
Ren walked faster.
Aoi full-on sprinted.
“Are you serious?” Ren huffed as he chased after her.
“YES,” Aoi yelled over her shoulder.
People were staring.
Ren didn’t care.
Because this was ridiculous.
And he was done playing whatever stupid game this was.
Aoi was quick.
But Ren was quicker.
So when she tried to turn a corner, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her to a stop.
“WHAT THE HELL, REN?!” Aoi gasped, glaring at him.
Ren narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Aoi crossed her arms, looking away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Ren exhaled sharply.
“Really?” he deadpanned. “You just happened to run like a maniac the moment I showed up?”
Aoi huffed. “Coincidence.”
Ren stared.
Aoi stared back.
Neither spoke.
Then—Ren sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Can you stop being annoying for five seconds and just tell me?”
Aoi fidgeted.
For the first time since Ren confronted her, she didn’t have an immediate comeback.
And that’s when Ren knew.
This was about something real.
His voice dropped, quieter now.
“Aoi,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
Aoi exhaled sharply, looking anywhere but at him.
Then, grudgingly—
“I just…” She hesitated. “I don’t know how to deal with… this.”
Ren’s brows furrowed.
“This?” he repeated.
Aoi sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“You,” she muttered. “Us. Whatever this is.”
Ren blinked.
Now he was confused.
“What do you mean?”
Aoi swallowed, eyes unreadable.
“You were different before,” she said. “You were rude, cold, sarcastic. I knew what to expect. And now…”
She hesitated.
“You’re changing.”
Ren stared at her.
“…And that’s a problem?”
Aoi shifted uncomfortably.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
And then—quietly, reluctantly—
“I just… keep hearing what you said when you were drunk.”
Ren froze.
Aoi exhaled, arms tightening around herself.
“You’re not Yui. I want Yui.”
She didn’t say the words.
But they hung in the air anyway.
Ren inhaled slowly.
“…Aoi.”
His voice was low, steady.
“I wasn’t myself that night.”
Aoi’s gaze flickered to him.
“Exactly,” she muttered. “That’s why it felt real.”
Ren fell silent.
Because what could he say to that?
Aoi shook her head, turning away slightly.
“I don’t need an explanation,” she muttered. “I don’t even know why I care.”
Ren frowned.
Then, before she could leave again, he said—
“You do care, though.”
Aoi froze.
Ren tilted his head.
“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”
Aoi opened her mouth—then closed it.
She clenched her jaw.
Then—grudgingly, barely above a whisper—
“Shut up, Ren.”
Ren smirked.
And for the first time in days, Aoi didn’t run away.
* * *
Chapter 60: The Words She Didn’t Want & The Words He Couldn’t Say
Kana didn’t know what to do.
Her mind was a mess, her heart even worse.
She had wanted Kaito’s love for so long.
And now… now she had it.
So why wasn’t she happy?
She hesitated for hours, her thoughts spiraling, until finally, she called the one person she always turned to.
Shin.
He picked up after just a few rings.
“Hey,” he said, voice calm as always.
Kana exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of her bed.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.
She told him everything.
About Kaito’s confession.
About how she couldn’t answer.
About how it felt different than she expected.
And when she finished, she waited.
Waited for Shin’s usual steady response.
Waited for him to help her make sense of it all.
Instead—his words made her freeze.
“Good for you,” he said, voice even. “You’ve liked him for so long… I sincerely hope you’re happy.”
Kana stopped breathing.
It was so fast, so simple.
Too simple.
Like it didn’t mean anything to him at all.
Like she didn’t matter.
And the worst part?
It sounded genuine.
Like he really meant it.
And for some reason, that made her chest ache.
“…Yeah,” she murmured. “Thanks, Shin.”
She hung up before she could think too much about it.
But the words stayed with her.
And she didn’t know why they hurt so much.
* * *
Shin stared at his phone after the call ended, jaw tight.
His hands were shaking.
Because that hurt.
More than he wanted to admit.
But what was he supposed to do?
Beg her to be with him instead?
Tell her not to choose Kaito?
Make things even harder for her?
No.
Kana had enough on her plate.
The last thing she needed was his feelings messing with her decisions.
So he did what he thought was right.
He stepped back.
He said what a friend should say.
And now?
Now, he felt like absolute shit.
Because he wasn’t just being supportive.
He was letting go.
And that hurt more than anything.
* * *
Kana sat still, phone clutched in her hands.
Shin’s words replayed in her head over and over again.
“Good for you. You’ve liked him for so long. I sincerely hope you’re happy.”
It was so normal.
So what she expected from him.
So Shin.
But for the first time, she hated it.
She hated that it was so easy for him to say.
Hated that it sounded so real.
Like he truly, genuinely, from the bottom of his heart…
Wanted her to be with Kaito.
She swallowed hard.
What did she expect?
Did she want him to tell her not to do it?
To ask her to choose him instead?
To be selfish?
No.
Shin wasn’t like that.
Shin was always selfless.
Always the one who stayed in the background.
Always the one who gave instead of took.
And suddenly—she hated that about him.
Because she didn’t realize until just now…
That she actually wanted to hear those words from him.
* * *
Chapter 61: Hopeless Cases & Unexpected Frustrations
Kana and Aoi sat at their usual table for lunch, but neither of them was really there.
Kana pushed her food around her plate, eyes unfocused.
Aoi stabbed a piece of lettuce with unnecessary force.
Neither spoke.
Because neither knew what to say.
Until, finally, Aoi sighed, dropping her fork with a clatter.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” she asked, resting her chin on her hand.
Kana blinked. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?”
Aoi scoffed. “You look like your brain short-circuited.”
Kana exhaled heavily, rubbing her temple.
“I just…” She hesitated. “I don’t know what to do.”
Aoi blinked.
Then—laughed.
Kana frowned. “What’s funny?”
Aoi shook her head, leaning back in her chair.
“Because same,” she admitted. “I also don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Kana groaned, pressing her forehead against the table.
“We’re hopeless.”
Aoi sighed dramatically.
“The most hopeless.”
Before they could drown in their mutual crisis, Kaito’s voice broke through the air.
“Yo, ladies,” he greeted, dropping into the seat next to Kana.
Kana sat up quickly, startled by his sudden arrival.
Aoi, on the other hand, glared at him.
Kaito grinned. “Miss me?”
Aoi rolled her eyes. “Not even a little.”
But Kana?
Kana noticed it immediately.
The way Kaito was extra attentive.
The way he leaned in slightly when he spoke to her.
The way his eyes lingered on her just a second too long.
And Aoi?
Aoi noticed too.
And it felt unnatural.
Like Kaito was trying too hard.
Like he was forcing something that wasn’t there before.
Kaito turned to her.
“Hey, where’s Ren?” he asked casually.
Aoi stiffened.
Then—scowled.
“How the hell should I know?” she snapped.
Kaito raised an eyebrow, amused.
“You’re with him all the time,” he pointed out.
Aoi crossed her arms. “Doesn’t mean I keep track of his schedule.”
Kaito smirked. “But you do, don’t you?”
Aoi stared.
Kana winced.
Kaito grinned wider. “Admit it, Suzuka. You’ve got Ren-tracking instincts now.”
Aoi huffed. “I do not.”
Kaito leaned back, completely enjoying himself now.
“Then where is he?” he pressed.
Aoi grabbed a fry from Kana’s plate and chucked it at Kaito’s face.
“I don’t know, Kaito!” she snapped. “Maybe go find him yourself!”
Kana watched with mild horror.
Kaito just laughed.
“You’re really bad at lying, Aoi.”
Aoi groaned, shoving a hand through her hair.
“This conversation is over,” she declared, pointedly stabbing at her salad again.
Kaito chuckled, shaking his head.
Kana, meanwhile, just sat there, feeling like she was caught in the middle of two storms.
Her own heart a mess from Kaito’s sudden shift in attention.
Aoi’s frustration over Ren.
And Kaito?
Kaito was annoyingly unbothered.
And somehow, that was the most frustrating part.
* * *
Chapter 62: The Things We Don’t Want to Admit
Kana had enough.
She had spent way too long watching Ren act like nothing was happening.
Like he wasn’t changing.
Like Aoi wasn’t getting to him.
So when she found him alone, she took her chance.
“You care about her,” she said, arms crossed.
Ren barely looked up. “Who?”
Kana gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb. Aoi.”
Ren exhaled sharply.
“She’s my class partner,” he said. “That’s all.”
Kana scoffed. “Right. Because you definitely go out of your way for all your class partners.”
Ren clenched his jaw.
Kana leaned in. “Just admit it, Ren.”
Ren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Fine,” he muttered. “I care.”
Kana smirked. “Finally.”
“But it’s hard,” Ren added, voice quieter now.
Kana tilted her head. “Why?”
Ren didn’t answer immediately.
Then—softly, reluctantly—
“Aoi is not Yui,” he admitted. “And she knows that. I—” He hesitated. “She heard me say it.”
Kana stilled.
“Wait,” she said. “When?”
Ren exhaled.
“The night I got drunk.”
Kana’s face fell.
Oh.
Oh.
“And she still stayed?” Kana asked, quieter now.
Ren nodded.
Kana let out a breath, watching him carefully.
“And you think,” she said slowly, “that letting someone else in would mean betraying Yui?”
Ren didn’t answer.
Because that was exactly what he thought.
Kana sighed, stepping closer.
“Ren,” she said, her voice softer now. “We knew Yui. Would she want you to suffer like this?”
Ren looked away.
Kana shook her head.
“You will always love her,” she said. “That will never change. But letting someone else in doesn’t mean you love Yui any less.”
Ren’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted.
Kana gave him a small, understanding smile.
“Then figure it out,” she said simply.
Ren exhaled.
And for the first time, he didn’t push back.
After a moment of silence, Ren glanced at Kana.
“Your turn,” he muttered.
Kana blinked. “Huh?”
Ren raised an eyebrow.
“Shin and Kaito,” he said. “What are you doing about that?”
Kana groaned. “Don’t.”
Ren tilted his head. “What? You pressured me, so now it’s your turn.”
Kana sighed, rubbing her temples.
“I thought I knew what I wanted,” she admitted. “But now… I’m not sure.”
Ren studied her. “Because Kaito finally looked at you the way you always wanted?”
Kana frowned. “That makes it sound shallow.”
“It’s not,” Ren said. “It makes sense. But now that you have it… it’s different, isn’t it?”
Kana exhaled heavily. “Yes.”
Ren nodded slowly.
“And Shin?”
Kana hesitated.
“I don’t even know if I’m allowed to want what I want right now,” she admitted.
Ren frowned. “What do you mean?”
Kana swallowed.
“Shin’s backing off,” she said. “Like he thinks I’ve already made my decision.”
Ren leaned back, crossing his arms.
“Did you?”
Kana hesitated.
Then—softly, painfully—
“I don’t know.”
Chapter 63: The Moment of Almost & The One Who Knew Too Late
Kana hadn’t planned to run into Shin.
In fact, she had been actively avoiding him.
Not because she didn’t want to see him.
But because she didn’t know what to say if she did.
And yet—here they were.
Face to face.
And it was awkward.
The kind of awkward that wasn’t supposed to exist between them.
Because before all of this, they were easy.
Natural.
Shin had always been the person she could turn to.
And now?
Now she couldn’t even look at him without feeling like there was something unsaid.
“…Hey,” Kana finally muttered.
Shin nodded. “Hey.”
Silence.
Painful, loaded silence.
Kana shifted on her feet. “It’s been a while.”
Shin huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Not that long,” he said. “Just… feels like it.”
Kana nodded, arms crossed.
The words sat heavy between them.
Neither sure how to bridge the gap.
Neither sure if they were allowed to.
Because Shin had already stepped back.
And Kana had already let him.
So what now?
Did they go back?
Or did they just… pretend it never happened?
Shin shifted.
Kana’s fingers twitched.
And then—
Shin sighed, finally breaking the tension.
“You seem… busy these days,” he said, voice light but careful.
Kana blinked. “Huh?”
Shin nodded toward her, a small, unreadable smile on his lips. “With Kaito.”
Kana froze.
Because that…
That was it, wasn’t it?
The reason this moment felt heavy.
The reason this wasn’t easy anymore.
The reason Shin had pulled back.
It was because of Kaito.
She should have expected it.
Should have been ready for it.
But somehow, hearing it from Shin still hurt.
She swallowed. “Yeah… I guess so.”
Shin nodded again. “That’s good.”
Kana didn’t respond.
Because no, it wasn’t.
Not when Shin was saying it like this.
Like it meant nothing to him.
Like she meant nothing to him.
And the worst part?
She didn’t know what she wanted him to say instead.
* * *
From a distance, Kaito watched.
His hands were in his pockets, his jaw tight, his chest heavy in a way he didn’t like.
Because he knew what he was seeing.
The way Kana and Shin looked at each other.
The way they hesitated.
The way their bodies tilted toward each other slightly, even though they weren’t even aware of it.
The way it hurt to watch.
Because it was too late now.
Because she wasn’t his to claim.
Kaito let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for just a second.
It wasn’t that he was jealous.
It wasn’t that he thought he deserved Kana.
It was just…
For so long, he thought she would always be there.
But she wasn’t.
Not in the way he thought.
Not in the way he finally realized too late.
And maybe that was his answer after all.
* * *
Shin should have left.
He should have walked away, like he planned to.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there, watching Kana, waiting for her to say something.
And Kana—Kana didn’t know what she was waiting for.
Something to fix this weird tension.
Something to make it go back to how it was.
Something—anything.
“…Shin,” she finally said.
He looked at her.
And suddenly, it felt like everything they hadn’t said was sitting between them.
He didn’t speak.
Just waited.
And Kana—Kana didn’t know what to say.
So she did nothing.
And that was worse than saying the wrong thing.
Because Shin saw her hesitate.
Saw the way she was caught between choices.
And for him, that was already his answer.
So he smiled.
A small, sad smile.
And he stepped back.
Not physically.
But Kana felt it anyway.
And for the first time, she realized…
She didn’t want him to.
But by the time she figured that out, he was already gone.
* * *
Chapter 64: The Accidental Cute Moments of Two People Who Refuse to Admit They Care
Aoi had planned to spend the afternoon studying alone in the library.
She had not planned for Ren Takumi to be sitting at her table.
Yet, here he was.
Slouched in the chair across from her, flipping through a psychology textbook like it personally offended him.
Aoi squinted at him.
“…What are you doing?”
Ren didn’t look up. “Reading.”
Aoi raised an eyebrow. “In my spot?”
Ren finally glanced at her, unimpressed. “Didn’t see your name on it.”
Aoi huffed, dropping her bag onto the table dramatically.
“Fine,” she muttered, sitting down. “Just don’t talk to me.”
Ren smirked. “Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”
For the next thirty minutes, they actually did study.
Until—
Aoi’s stomach grumbled loudly.
Ren looked up slowly, the corner of his lips twitching.
Aoi froze, then groaned.
“Don’t say it.”
Ren leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
“Wasn’t gonna say anything.”
Aoi scowled. “You were thinking it.”
Ren tilted his head. “And what exactly was I thinking?”
Aoi narrowed her eyes. “That I should eat before I pass out or something.”
Ren nodded. “You should eat before you pass out.”
Aoi threw a pen at him.
* * *
Ren actually didn’t mind studying with Aoi.
She was quiet when she needed to be.
Sharp. Focused.
The problem?
She was also annoying.
Because after an hour of studying, she was getting restless.
And restless Aoi was dangerous.
Ren watched as she twirled her pen around her fingers, bounced her knee, and sighed dramatically every five minutes.
Finally, he had enough.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a convenience store snack.
Aoi immediately perked up.
“Is that for me?” she asked.
Ren raised an eyebrow. “You think I carry extra food for you?”
Aoi put a hand over her chest. “You should.”
Ren sighed, tossing the snack toward her.
Aoi grinned in triumph.
“Wow,” she teased. “You do care.”
Ren rolled his eyes. “I just don’t want you whining about being hungry while I’m trying to study.”
Aoi opened the snack and took a bite, humming happily.
She held up the package.
“Next time,” she said, grinning, “bring something better.”
Ren gave her a long, unimpressed stare.
Then—**without a word—**he reached for the snack in her hand and took a bite.
Aoi gasped.
“REN TAKUMI!” she yelled. “YOU THIEF!”
Ren shrugged, chewing.
“You told me to bring better snacks next time,” he said. “Guess I should taste-test first.”
Aoi dramatically clutched her snack to her chest.
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!”
Ren smirked. “Lesson learned.”
Aoi grumbled, shoving the rest of the snack into her mouth before he could steal more.
Ren watched her, amused.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind the company.
* * *
After an hour of actual studying, Aoi was starting to nod off.
Ren noticed when she stopped flipping pages.
Then when her hand stilled over her notebook.
Then—when her head started tilting slightly… toward him.
Ren raised an eyebrow.
“Aoi,” he muttered.
Aoi made a small, sleepy grumble.
Ren sighed.
This girl.
He nudged her lightly with his elbow.
Aoi blinked awake just before her head could hit his shoulder.
She jerked up, looking around.
“Wasn’t sleeping,” she muttered.
Ren smirked. “Sure.”
Aoi rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
Ren checked. “Almost six.”
Aoi groaned. “We’ve been here forever.”
Ren shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Aoi froze.
Because Ren Takumi—**THE Ren Takumi—**just admitted he didn’t mind being around her.
Aoi narrowed her eyes.
“Who are you,” she demanded, “and what have you done with Ren?”
Ren sighed, standing up and stretching.
“Come on,” he muttered. “You need food before you get dramatic again.”
Aoi grinned, grabbing her things.
“You do care,” she teased.
Ren didn’t respond.
But Aoi saw the way his ears turned slightly pink.
And for once, she let him pretend she didn’t.
* * *
Chapter 65: The Fall That Led Her Back to Him
Kana wasn’t a clumsy person.
But she had a lot on her mind.
And that was why she hadn’t noticed the uneven pavement.
One misstep.
A sharp twist.
And suddenly—pain shot up her ankle.
“Ah, crap,” she hissed, trying to steady herself.
A few people around her noticed the fall and immediately helped her up.
“You okay?” someone asked.
Kana forced a strained smile. “Yeah. I think I just twisted it.”
Her ankle was already swelling.
Someone offered to take her to the clinic, and Kana—**knowing she had no choice—**nodded.
But then—before they could even get far, another voice cut through the air.
“Where is she?”
The voice was sharp, urgent.
Kana blinked.
And then—Shin appeared.
His usual calm was completely gone.
His expression was tight with worry.
And when he saw her sitting in the clinic, his shoulders finally relaxed—but just barely.
“You’re here,” Kana said, grinning slightly despite the pain.
Shin’s gaze swept over her, scanning for injuries.
“Of course, I’m here,” he muttered. “You think I wouldn’t show up after hearing you were hurt?”
Kana tilted her head. “So you were that worried about me, huh?”
Shin exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re insufferable.”
Kana laughed softly.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “But you’re here anyway.”
And for some reason—that made all the pain a little more bearable.
* * *
Walking home was not an option.
Kana had tried.
She barely made it five steps before the pain made her stop.
Shin sighed.
And then—he crouched down in front of her.
“Get on,” he said.
Kana blinked. “What?”
Shin glanced over his shoulder. “I’m giving you a piggyback.”
Kana’s face heated.
“I can walk,” she muttered.
Shin gave her a pointed look. “No, you can limp. Big difference.”
Kana hesitated.
Shin did not.
He reached behind him, grabbing her wrist, gently pulling her forward.
“Stop being difficult,” he murmured.
Kana stared.
Then, with a reluctant sigh, she placed her arms around his shoulders.
Shin hoisted her up effortlessly.
And just like that—they were closer than they had been in weeks.
* * *
“You know,” Kana muttered, “people are definitely staring at us.”
Shin shrugged. “Let them.”
Kana rolled her eyes. “You really don’t care, huh?”
Shin smirked. “Not even a little.”
Kana chuckled, resting her chin lightly against his shoulder.
Then—her voice softened.
“Remember when you said I should get better hiking shoes?”
Shin snorted. “Yeah. You never listen to me.”
Kana sighed dramatically. “Turns out, you were right. My ankle has officially learned its lesson.”
Shin shook his head. “I should start charging for my wisdom.”
Kana grinned. “I’d be broke.”
Shin chuckled—but his heart was pounding.
Because Kana was close.
Too close.
And he didn’t know how to stop himself from feeling everything he wasn’t supposed to.
Then—her voice shifted.
Softer.
Quieter.
“…I wish time would stay still right now,” Kana murmured.
Shin stiffened slightly.
Kana didn’t move—but her arms tightened around him.
Shin swallowed.
“What do you mean?” he asked carefully.
Kana hesitated.
Then—softly, almost too softly—
“I wish I had enough courage before to tell you what’s been going on in my mind.”
Shin’s breath hitched.
His fingers curled slightly against her legs, gripping tighter.
Because he wanted to ask.
Wanted to demand to know what she meant.
But he was afraid of the answer.
So he didn’t say anything.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t ask.
And Kana?
She didn’t explain.
She just buried her face against his back.
And Shin knew—whatever she wanted to say… it mattered.
* * *
By the time they reached her apartment, Kana didn’t want to get off.
She knew she had to.
But she didn’t want to.
Because this felt safe.
And she wasn’t ready for it to end.
But Shin knelt down, letting her slide off carefully.
Their eyes met.
And suddenly—Kana felt the words leave her mouth before she could stop them.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Shin froze.
Kana swallowed hard, staring at him.
“Why did you step back?”
Shin’s fingers twitched at his sides.
He could lie.
Could say it was nothing.
Could say he wasn’t.
But Kana was looking at him too intently.
Too genuinely.
She deserved the truth.
And Shin?
He wasn’t sure if he was ready to give it.
* * *
Chapter 66: The Truth That Led to This
Shin wasn’t ready for this conversation.
But Kana had never been more sure that they needed to have it.
She was done pretending that everything was normal.
Done pretending that Shin’s distance didn’t hurt.
Done pretending she knew what she wanted when everything inside her was a mess.
So when she turned to him, standing in front of her apartment with her swollen ankle still aching—
She didn’t hesitate.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Shin stilled.
Kana swallowed.
“Why did you step back?”
His fingers twitched.
For a second, he looked like he wanted to lie.
To brush it off.
To tell her it was nothing.
But then—he met her eyes.
And he knew.
He owed her the truth.
Shin sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I stepped back,” he admitted, voice low, “because I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Kana stared at him.
“You’ve always loved Kaito,” he continued, forcing the words out. “And now, he finally sees you. He’s finally ready for you.”
He exhaled sharply.
“So I thought… I should leave before I made things harder for you.”
Kana’s breath hitched.
She should have expected that answer.
Should have seen it coming.
But somehow, hearing it still made her stomach twist painfully.
“You idiot,” she whispered.
Shin blinked.
Kana shook her head, voice shaking slightly.
“You think I wanted you to leave?”
Shin swallowed. “I didn’t know what you wanted.”
Kana let out a bitter laugh.
“Yeah?” she muttered. “Well, neither did I…at first.”
Kana let out a shaky breath.
“I thought I knew,” she admitted, looking at him.
“I thought I wanted Kaito for so long.”
Shin stayed silent.
Letting her say what she needed to say.
“But then,” Kana continued, her voice softening, “you were there. When I broke down. When I didn’t know how to move forward. You were the one who made it feel like it was okay to still be standing after everything.”
Her fingers trembled slightly.
“I thought I only needed your support,” she whispered.
“But it wasn’t just that.”
Shin held his breath.
Kana swallowed, voice barely above a whisper now.
“I need you.”
* * *
Shin felt everything stop.
He had spent so long convincing himself to let go.
Spent so long trying to step back.
But now…
Now, she was standing right here.
Saying the words he had never let himself dream of hearing.
Shin exhaled, taking a slow step forward.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
Kana blinked up at him.
“I need you,” she repeated, voice steady this time.
Shin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
He had spent so long convincing himself not to want this. Not to hope. But now—Kana was right here. Looking at him like he was something she didn’t want to let go of. And suddenly, holding back didn’t feel like an option anymore.
Shin reached for her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Giving her time to move away if she wanted to.
But she didn’t.
She stepped closer instead.
Her heart was pounding.
And Shin—Shin had never been more certain of anything.
So he leaned in.
Just slightly.
Just enough for her to understand what he was about to do.
Kana inhaled shakily.
And then—she closed the distance.
The kiss was soft, hesitant, careful.
Like they were testing the waters of something they both had been afraid to touch.
Shin’s hand slid up gently to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin.
Kana’s fingers curled into his jacket, grounding herself.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was just them.
Finally allowing themselves to be here.
Finally letting go of hesitation.
Finally realizing—this was what they wanted all along.
* * *
When they pulled away, Kana was still holding onto him.
Her forehead rested lightly against his chest.
Shin exhaled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Neither of them spoke.
Because there was nothing left to say.
Because for once, they had stopped running from the truth.
Because this—
This was all they ever wanted.
* * *
Chapter 67: The Goodbye That Wasn’t a Goodbye
Kana had been dreading this.
But she owed Kaito the truth.
She had spent so much time thinking he was the one.
And now—now she had to tell him that he wasn’t.
She found him sitting on the campus benches, hands resting in his lap, looking up at the sky.
When he noticed her approaching, he smiled.
Not a smirk.
Not a playful grin.
Just a small, knowing smile.
And before she could even open her mouth, he raised a hand.
“Don’t say it,” he muttered.
Kana froze.
Kaito leaned back, stretching his arms before looking at her again.
“I know you, Kana,” he said, voice lighter than she expected.
“And I know you enough to know that your heart isn’t with me anymore.”
Kana’s throat tightened.
She looked down, hands curling into her sleeves.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Kaito exhaled sharply.
“Hey, why sorry?” he said, nudging her playfully. “You finally found your happiness.”
Kana blinked at him.
And for a moment—her heart ached for the boy who had always been there.
But Kaito just grinned.
“Honestly,” he said, “I’m a little broken-hearted. Maybe I should get a dramatic haircut and disappear for six months.”
Kana snorted, despite herself.
But Kaito’s grin softened.
“But I’m happy for you, Kana,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“You deserve to be happy. You deserve to smile more often.”
Kana’s chest tightened.
Because this was Kaito.
The boy she thought she loved.
The one who had been part of her world for as long as she could remember.
And now, he was letting her go—completely, genuinely, and without bitterness.
She swallowed.
Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward and hugged him.
Kaito stilled for just a second.
Then—his arms wrapped around her.
Warm. Familiar.
Not like Shin.
Not like home.
But still—important.
“Thank you,” Kana whispered.
Kaito chuckled, his chin resting lightly on top of her head.
“Don’t make me cry, Takahashi,” he teased.
Kana smiled, pulling back.
“Don’t make me cry, Arata,” she shot back.
Kaito smirked. “I make everyone cry, it’s my talent.”
Kana rolled her eyes.
And then—she left.
Leaving Kaito alone with his thoughts.
* * *
Kaito let out a slow breath.
His arms still felt the warmth of Kana’s hug.
And for the first time, he fully understood what he had lost.
Not just Kana.
But the version of her who had always waited for him.
The version of himself who had always assumed she’d be there.
And maybe he had taken that for granted.
Kaito chuckled to himself.
“Guess I was too late after all.”
But surprisingly?
It didn’t hurt as much as he expected.
Because this was how things were meant to be.
And for once, Kaito wasn’t going to fight it.
Instead—he was just going to let go.
* * *
Chapter 68: A Quiet Kind of Happiness
Kana wasn’t used to feeling this light.
For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was holding onto something she was afraid of losing.
She didn’t feel like she had to be careful with her emotions.
She didn’t feel unsure.
She just felt… happy.
And that?
That was new.
She found Shin waiting for her after class, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, watching students pass by.
When he saw her, his face softened.
“Hey,” he greeted.
Kana grinned. “Hey.”
Shin reached out instinctively, taking her bag off her shoulder to carry it himself.
Kana rolled her eyes. “I’m not injured anymore, you know.”
Shin smirked, adjusting the strap. “I know. I just like carrying your stuff.”
Kana snorted. “So you’re my personal assistant now?”
Shin pretended to think. “Only if there’s a paycheck involved.”
Kana poked his arm. “You’re ridiculous.”
Shin shrugged. “But you like me anyway.”
Kana stopped walking for half a second.
Then—her lips curled into a smile.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I do.”
Shin smirked slightly, nudging her forward.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
They ended up at a small café, sitting across from each other with warm drinks in hand.
Kana was stirring her tea absentmindedly when she finally spoke.
“I talked to Kaito,” she said.
Shin glanced at her, taking a slow sip of his coffee.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice calm, steady.
Kana nodded.
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” she admitted. “He… already knew.”
Shin watched her carefully.
“And how do you feel?” he asked.
Kana sighed, thinking.
“I thought I’d feel… guilty,” she said.
“But I don’t.”
She looked up at him, her fingers tightening around her cup.
“I feel relieved,” she admitted softly.
Shin nodded slowly.
Then—he reached across the table, covering her hand with his.
Kana blinked.
“Shin—”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he murmured.
Kana exhaled.
Because of course.
Of course Shin knew exactly what she needed to hear.
She squeezed his hand lightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Shin smirked. “For what?”
Kana rolled her eyes.
“For always knowing what to say.”
Shin grinned slightly, squeezing her hand back.
“Well,” he teased, “I do have a lot of wisdom.”
Kana laughed softly.
And just like that—it felt normal.
Like they had always been this way.
Like this was always meant to happen.
* * *
The walk back to Kana’s apartment was slow, unhurried.
Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence.
Instead, Shin simply reached for Kana’s hand, intertwining their fingers.
Kana looked up at him, lips twitching slightly.
“You holding my hand in public now?” she teased.
Shin smirked. “You embarrassed?”
Kana scoffed. “No.”
“Good,” Shin said, kissing the back of her hand lightly.
Kana felt butterflies explode in her chest.
“Shin,” she muttered, nudging him lightly. “You’re too smooth.”
Shin chuckled. “You like it, though.”
Kana squeezed his hand.
“…Yeah,” she admitted. “I do.”
Shin smiled.
Because so did he.
* * *
Chapter 69: The Walls Between Us
Ren wasn’t someone who let people in.
But Aoi Suzuka had made her way into his life anyway.
Without trying.
Without meaning to.
And now—now he wasn’t running anymore.
For the first time, he was ready.
So when he found Aoi alone outside the campus library, leaning against the railing with her arms crossed, he didn’t hesitate.
“Hey,” he said, walking up beside her.
Aoi glanced at him, then looked away.
“…Hey.”
Ren noted the shift immediately.
The hesitation.
The tension.
The way she wasn’t teasing him like usual.
A beat of silence stretched between them.
Then—Ren just said it.
“You’re avoiding me again.”
Aoi let out a short laugh.
“Not this again,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead.
Ren didn’t move away.
Didn’t press.
Just waited.
And Aoi—Aoi hated that.
Because Ren Takumi wasn’t supposed to wait for anyone.
He was supposed to push people away.
And yet—he was standing right here, waiting for her to say something.
She sighed.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Ren.”
Ren frowned slightly. “I didn’t think I was asking for anything.”
Aoi let out a small, bitter laugh.
“Yeah, well,” she muttered. “That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”
Ren’s gaze hardened.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Aoi turned to him then, eyes sharp, conflicted, tired.
“I know I’m not Yui,” she said bluntly.
Ren stiffened.
Aoi exhaled, crossing her arms tighter.
“And I keep wondering,” she muttered, “if I’ll ever be enough. Or if I’m just a substitute for what you lost.”
* * *
Ren’s fingers curled into fists at his sides.
He hadn’t expected that.
But he should have.
Because of course Aoi knew.
Of course she had been thinking about it.
Of course she had been holding back—not because she didn’t care, but because she was afraid of what she meant to him.
Ren inhaled slowly.
Then—his voice was calm. Steady. Certain.
“You’re not Yui,” he said. “And I don’t want you to be.”
Aoi’s breath hitched slightly.
Ren didn’t look away.
“You’re not a replacement,” he continued. “You’re… you. And I don’t know what this is, Aoi. But I know that I don’t want to ignore it anymore.”
Aoi’s fingers tightened around her sleeves.
“But what if I don’t want to be something you settle for?” she whispered.
Ren’s chest tightened.
Because he understood.
This wasn’t just about his feelings.
This was about Aoi’s fear of never being enough.
Of being something temporary.
Of being something that could be forgotten.
Ren exhaled.
Then—without thinking—
He took a step forward.
And Aoi didn’t step back.
“You think I’m settling?” he asked, voice lower now.
Aoi’s lips parted slightly.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Ren tilted his head.
“Then let me prove you wrong.”
Aoi stared at him.
Searching.
Hesitating.
And Ren—Ren was willing to wait for this answer.
Because this wasn’t just about him anymore.
***
Diary of A Chaotic Dreamer 
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