The sterile scent of antiseptic still lingered in the air as Ayaka adjusted the cuff of her cardigan, her back resting lightly against the examination table.
Dr. Hasegawa scribbled something onto her file, his brow furrowed in that exaggeratedly serious way he always used when pretending to be more annoyed than he actually was.
"You're still overworking yourself." he muttered, flipping to the next page. "Sleep's off, stress levels through the roof, and your diet is trash. What am I supposed to do with you?"
Ayaka gave a soft smile, trying to deflect. "You always say that."
Toru shot her a dry look over the rim of his glasses. "That's because nothing ever changes."
She laughed faintly but didn't argue.
The warmth in her voice didn't quite reach her eyes.
He closed her file with a soft *snap*, then leaned back on his rolling stool. "Well, no emergency alerts this time. You live another day."
"Lucky me." she murmured, hopping off the table, careful not to meet his gaze too directly.
The smile on her lips faltered as silence filled the space between them.
She toyed with the strap of her tote bag, her fingers curling around the canvas material.
A beat.
Then she asked, trying to sound casual—too casual, "Is… Akihiko working today?"
Toru didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he raised a single, unimpressed brow, slowly crossing his arms as if bracing himself for the conversation that always seemed to circle back to him.
"Do I look like I report to the surgical gods?" he said, deadpan. "How would I know? He's a surgeon. I work in internal medicine, thank you very much."
Ayaka pressed her lips together, already regretting asking.
He wasn't finished.
"You two are really hopeless, you know that?" Toru added a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "One broods like a storm cloud, the other ghosts the entire building unless there's a mandatory check-up. Honestly, are you both in a romcom or a tragedy? Because at this rate, I can't tell."
She laughed again, a weak sound—more breath than joy. "It's not like that."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "It's exactly like that."
Her shoulders tensed slightly.
Toru, perhaps sensing it, didn't press further.
Instead, he pulled out his phone and held it out to her without a word, the screen lit up and ready for a call.
Ayaka blinked, staring at it.
She hesitated.
Her hand didn't move.
"I…" she trailed off, then shook her head gently, backing a step away. "No. It's fine."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
Toru didn't argue.
He lowered the phone, slipping it back into the pocket of his white coat with a slow nod, his expression softening just a bit.
Ayaka looked toward the hallway beyond the door, heart caught somewhere between hope and fear.
The hospital corridor stretched out in her mind like a path lined with memories—bright ones, painful ones, ones she wasn't sure she was ready to face again.
"You could walk past the surgical wing." Toru offered quietly. "By accident, of course."
Ayaka managed a soft smile. "And bump into him like fate intended?"
"Exactly."
But her smile didn't last.
She pulled her bag tighter over her shoulder and glanced down at her shoes. "Not today."
Toru stood up then, gathering her file and placing it on the counter.
He didn't press, didn't ask, didn't guilt her.
He just gave a short nod, more understanding than she deserved.
"Then don't wait too long." he said simply. "He's not great at saying things. But he's worse at letting go."
Ayaka looked up, startled.
Toru shrugged. "I'm just saying… he's a surgeon. He's used to holding on."
She didn't reply.
Instead, she murmured a quiet thank-you, bowed slightly, and turned on her heel.
The hospital halls were colder than she remembered, the lights too white, the footsteps of nurses and patients too far away to ground her.
Her own steps echoed softly as she walked past the elevators—not the ones that led to the surgical floor—and out through the main lobby.
Her fingers twitched at her side, brushing her phone.
She could have called.
She could have looked for him.
But she didn't.
Outside, the gray sky hadn't shifted.
The clouds hung low, brushing the tops of distant buildings as the wind swept gently through the trees lining the street.
She stood still for a moment outside the glass doors of Tokyo Medical Center, staring at the world that kept turning.
Then, without another word, Ayaka walked down the steps and disappeared into the crowd.
Not looking back.
Not today.
-----
It was a day before Yuki and Kaito's big day.
The wedding everyone was busy preparing for.
The grand hall was draped in soft ivory linens, sunlight filtering through tall glass windows as florists bustled about in the background.
Everything was set for the wedding rehearsal—except the people, who were either nervously checking mirrors or trying not to trip on the carpet.
Kaito clapped his hands to gather attention at the front, standing beside his glowing bride-to-be, Yuki.
Both were beaming, radiating the kind of joy that made everyone pause—even the cynical ones.
"Alright!" Kaito announced with a grin, voice carrying through the high ceilings. "Time to reveal the bridesmaid and groomsman pairings. We tried to balance things out—good chemistry, even height, photogenic pairings. You know how it goes."
Yuki giggled, nudging him. "Let's not pretend you didn't do this just to match people up for your amusement."
"Guilty." Kaito admitted. "Anyway—Keiko, you'll be walking with your boyfriend."
"I knew it." Keiko grinned, looping her arm through Haruto's proudly, drawing laughter and a few playful whistles from the others.
"And Ayaka..." Yuki said, stepping forward with a bright smile, "you'll be partnered with Kaito's best friend—Shin Kurosaki. Shin, come up!"
A tall, lean man with a gentle face and glasses stepped forward awkwardly, clearly unused to the attention.
His movements were precise but slightly stiff, like a polite robot running slightly outdated software.
Everyone turned to Ayaka.
Yuki asked gently, "Is that alright with you, Ayaka?"
Ayaka gave a small, reassuring smile, nodding. "Of course. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kurosaki."
Shin blushed faintly, bowing. "N-Nice to meet you too."
A few polite claps followed, but elsewhere in the lineup, tension rippled like a pebble tossed into still water.
Standing among the groomsmen, Makoto's charming smile faltered for the briefest second.
His green eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he observed Shin fumbling with his posture.
Just beside him, Akihiko's usually unreadable expression gained the faintest flicker of discontent—the kind only those who knew him would catch.
Neither of them spoke.
Not at first.
As the practice commenced, everyone paired off to rehearse the procession down the aisle.
Ayaka and Shin took slow, deliberate steps—his arm stiff, his eyes on the floor, murmuring constant apologies every time he accidentally brushed against her sleeve.
From a short distance away, Makoto folded his arms, one brow arched. "He looks like he's calculating pi every time she turns to talk to him."
Akihiko, hands in his pockets, let out a low exhale. "If he bows any more, he might crack his spine."
Makoto smirked. "Or dislocate his neck. You sure he's Fujiwara's best friend? Not a substitute teacher they dragged at the last minute?"
Akihiko gave a subtle shrug. "Apparently he's a lawyer."
Makoto chuckled. "Is it me or does he have the inability to make eye contact with a woman?"
The banter flowed more naturally than either of them expected—dry, snarky, but strangely satisfying.
Their shared interest in mocking Ayaka's partner had temporarily dissolved the quiet rivalry that often hummed between them like an electric current.
"You two are really something." Takeshi's voice cut in, strolling up with Kazumi. "Looks like the rivals are finally getting along."
Makoto and Akihiko both froze for a second—neither looked at each other.
"..."
Kazumi grinned. "Wow. That's the sound of mutual regret."
Takeshi laughed. "Or mutual realization. Either way—entertaining."
Makoto gave a low cough, casually adjusting the cuff of his blazer. "I'm just making observations."
Akihiko turned his gaze away. "Same."
They didn't say another word.
Takeshi nudged Kazumi with an elbow. "Bet you they both forgot they were enemies until I said it."
Kazumi chuckled. "Now they're rebooting their rivalry software."
Despite the humor, Ayaka caught a glimpse of the brief exchange as she and Shin made their way back to the front.
Her eyes flicked toward the groomsmen just in time to see Makoto shifting away, hands in his pockets again, and Akihiko looking pointedly at the opposite wall as if he hadn't been involved in the conversation at all.
She didn't say anything—but her heart felt that old ache stirring again.
So much left unsaid.
So much tension... that had nothing to do with the rehearsal.
As Yuki called out instructions for the next walk-through, Ayaka straightened her spine, smoothing her dress.
She wasn't sure what was heavier—the silence between the two men behind her, or the weight of being watched by both.
One with fire in his eyes.
The other was ice cold.
And neither of them, for now, walking beside her.