The next day, the festival decorations were gone. Paper lanterns, torn streamers, and wilted flowers sat in piles beside the school gate, as if the night of magic had never happened.
But the whispers hadn't faded.
"Did you hear? Kiyomi and Minato were alone under the bridge."
"In the middle of the fireworks, too! How romantic."
"More like scandalous."
I kept my head low as I walked through the hallway, pretending not to hear. Every passing glance felt heavier than usual—every giggle, every whisper seemed to point at me.
When I reached my seat, Hinata gave me a sympathetic look.
Hinata: Don't let it get to you. (She whispered). Everyone's just being dramatic.
I forced a smile.
Kiyomi: Yeah… I know.
But deep down, I didn't. The shame, the embarrassment—it clung to me like wet clothes.
And worse, I hadn't spoken to Minato since the office meeting that morning. We'd both been scolded, given cleaning duty, and told to "reflect on our actions." Whatever that meant.
That afternoon, we met in the empty classroom assigned for punishment duty. The sun poured through the windows, catching floating specks of dust in its light.
Minato was already there, sweeping the floor. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, and his expression was unreadable.
I hesitated in the doorway, holding a bucket and rag.
Kiyomi: You started without me.
He didn't look up.
Minato: You were late.
Kiyomi: I had to get the cleaning supplies (I muttered, setting them down).
Silence stretched. Only the sound of the broom brushing against the floor filled the room.
Finally, I sighed.
Kiyomi: So, are you going to ignore me the whole time?
Minato paused mid-sweep.
Minato: I'm not ignoring you.
Kiyomi: Sure feels like it.
He looked up then—his dark eyes meeting mine.
Minato: What do you want me to say, Kiyomi? That I'm sorry? That I wish it didn't happen? Because I am. I do.
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden rawness in his tone.
Minato: I just…(He exhaled, setting the broom aside) didn't want to drag you down with me. You don't deserve to be the target of gossip.
My grip tightened around the rag.
Kiyomi: You keep saying that—like you get to decide what's best for me.
He looked away, his jaw tightening.
Minato: Maybe I'm just trying to protect you.
Kiyomi: From what? (I asked quietly). From being your friend?
The question hung there, fragile and painful.
For a long moment, none of us spoke. The tension between us was almost suffocating—like a thread pulled too tight.
Then I turned and began wiping the desks, my movements sharper than before.
Kiyomi: You know, you're really bad at letting people in.
Minato gave a soft, humorless laugh.
Minato: You're not the first to tell me that.
As the minutes passed, the silence softened. The sun dipped lower, painting the classroom in a warm orange glow. I glanced at Minato once—he was focused, sweeping near the windows, his hair catching the light.
There was something about his quietness—not cold, but lonely. Like someone used to walking in the rain without an umbrella.
Kiyomi: Hey (I finally said, breaking the silence). Do you even like school festivals?
He blinked, surprised by the sudden question.
Minato: They're loud. And crowded.
Kiyomi: So, no?
He smiled faintly.
Minato: No.
I smiled too, a small laugh slipping out. Kiyomi: You're impossible.
But for the first time in days, the air between us felt lighter.
By the time we finished cleaning, it was already dusk. We stood by the window, watching the sky fade into a deep blue.
I exhaled softly.
Kiyomi: You know, it's kind of unfair.
Minato: What is?
Kiyomi: That everyone's talking about us like we did something wrong… when all we did was fall.
Minato turned to me, his expression unreadable again—but this time, softer. Minato: Maybe we did fall (He said quietly). Just not in the way they think.
I blinked, heat rising to her cheeks.
Kiyomi: Wh—what's that supposed to mean?
Minato picked up the broom, hiding a small, fleeting smile.
Minato: Nothing. Let's just finish up before the teacher locks us in.
But as he walked past me, I felt my heart skip once—just once—and I hated how it felt both terrifying and beautiful at the same time.
Later that night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning.
The laughter, the whispers, the embarrassment—they all faded to the background.
All I could think about was the look in Minato's eyes when he'd said those words.
And how, maybe, for the first time… I didn't want the rumors to be completely wrong.