The afternoon rain came soft, threading the sky with whispers. Claire stood beneath the awning, the wind tugging faintly at her sleeves.
And then—
"Claire."
She turned.
Miko stood a few steps away, his schoolbag slung carelessly over one shoulder, the faint mist of rain clinging to his hair. But there was no casual grin today. Only a quiet, searching look — as if he'd already felt the weight of something unsaid.
Claire gave a small nod. "Thanks for coming."
They crossed the yard in silence, moving toward the old oak by the fence — their silent refuge from the world. The ground beneath them was damp, the air thick with the scent of wet leaves and secrets left too long in the dark.
Claire opened her notebook slowly, as though unsealing something fragile. Her voice was soft, yet steady.
"I know what Diana did."
Miko's eyes sharpened. He didn't ask how. He didn't need to.
Claire swallowed. "But… it wasn't just her. There was someone else."
Her fingers tightened on the page — the name staring back at her like a wound inked in her own hand.
"Tasya."
Miko's expression flickered. "Tasya… your classmate?"
Claire nodded, her throat tightening. "She's the one I never spoke about. The one who made sure… I broke."
Miko's brows drew together, confusion flashing for a heartbeat. "Claire… what do you mean?"
She met his eyes — steady, but unreadable. "I mean she destroyed me once. And I won't let her do it again."
For a moment, the air around them seemed to still. Miko searched her face, something uneasy threading into his voice.
"Claire… what really happened back then?"
Claire gave him a faint, almost haunted smile. "Let's just say… I'm not supposed to be standing here."
A shadow passed across Miko's face — part worry, part fierce protectiveness. But he didn't press. Didn't push for answers she wasn't ready to give.
Instead, he said quietly,
"Then I'll stand with you."
The rain fell harder now, wrapping them both in its soft, endless hush.
And Claire thought — maybe she wasn't ready to tell him everything. Not yet.
That once, she had been pushed past the edge of life itself.
That once, she had been left for dead.
That her heart had known what it was to stop… and start again.
But even if Miko didn't know…
He chose to stand beside her anyway.
Not for answers.
But for her.
And in that silent, fragile moment — under a sky that refused to break — Claire realized:
Some truths would have to wait.
But some loyalties… didn't.
The rain softened into a silvery mist as the afternoon leaned toward dusk. The air smelled of wet earth and unspoken words.
Across the schoolyard — half-hidden by the curve of the corridor, shielded by the branches of the trembling trees — Randy stood watching.
He hadn't meant to stop.
Hadn't meant to see.
But there they were.
Claire and Miko.
Standing close beneath the old oak, voices low, faces drawn together by something more than friendship — something he couldn't hear… but felt deep in the hollow of his chest.
Claire's head was slightly bowed, her hair falling like a curtain between them, as if she'd set down all her defenses with Miko.
And Miko—
He wasn't smiling.
He wasn't teasing.
He was just there, standing with her like a shield against a world Randy thought only he was meant to guard her from.
A strange ache pulled tight inside Randy's ribs.
I was the one who stayed in the shadows for her.
I was the one who kept her safe without asking for anything back.
He clenched his jaw.
But what stung wasn't anger.
It was the way Claire's eyes looked — steady, soft, unafraid.
The way she seemed to breathe easier beside Miko… in a way Randy had never seen when she was with him.
A part of him whispered — Is this how it begins? Is this how I lose her?
But deeper still, a sharper voice echoed —
Or… is this how you realize you never really had her?
The raindrops slid down the metal railing he gripped, cold against his skin.
Randy exhaled, low and sharp.
He had promised himself once — he would protect her, even if it meant standing back.
But standing back suddenly felt like standing on the edge of a silent war.
And the battlefield… was her heart.
He looked at Claire one last time, saw the faintest shadow of a smile on her lips — a kind of softness she rarely let show.
And Miko stood close.
Too close.
Randy turned away before the ache could settle deeper.
But even as he walked off into the soft blur of rain, a vow burned behind his eyes.
I'm not letting her go.
Not to him. Not to anyone.
If Miko wanted to stand by her side — fine.
But Randy would stand in front of them both if he had to.
And when the time came…
Claire would know.
Who was always watching.
Who never stopped walking behind her — even when her heart walked somewhere else.
Even loyalty… could turn into a battle scar.
The rain followed Claire home — soft on the pavement, soft on the roof, a quiet hum beneath the city's evening hush.
She unlocked the door with a sigh, shaking droplets from her hair. The weight of the day pressed on her shoulders like a memory refusing to fade.
But the moment she stepped inside — she froze.
Randy was there.
Sitting on the living room couch, hands clasped, eyes unreadable beneath the low amber light.
He looked up at her — not with anger, not with suspicion — but with something far heavier.
Something Claire couldn't name yet.
"Randy…" she whispered. "What are you—"
"I wanted to see you," he said softly. "And I didn't want to wait until tomorrow."
There was no edge in his voice. No coldness. Just a quiet gravity that pulled the air between them taut.
Claire set her bag down slowly, walking toward him. "You… came all this way?"
Randy nodded once. "I thought we should talk."
She sat across from him, heart thudding — not with fear. But with a strange, silent ache.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the soft rhythm of rain against the windows.
Finally, Randy broke the silence.
"I saw you."
Claire blinked. "What?"
"Today. With Miko."
His words didn't come sharp — they fell gently, like raindrops over glass. But that gentleness stung even deeper.
Claire swallowed. "Randy… it wasn't—"
He shook his head, a faint, rueful smile at the corner of his lips. "I'm not accusing you."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked with hers.
"I just… need to know. What is he to you?"
Claire met his gaze — steady, searching. "He's my friend. He's been helping me… with everything that happened."
"With Diana?"
"With everything," she whispered.
Randy's shoulders dropped slightly — but his eyes never softened. "And us?"
Claire exhaled slowly, feeling the words rise from a place even she hadn't dared to touch.
"You're… you're the one who stood by me when I felt invisible. You've always been kind. Loyal. You helped me more than you know."
She looked down, her fingers curling slightly on her lap.
"But this isn't about who helps me the most, Randy." Her voice trembled, but stayed honest. "It's about who sees me… and lets me be me."
Randy went still.
"I see you," he said, almost a whisper. "I've always seen you."
"I know." Claire gave a faint smile — soft, sad, like a fragile thread holding two hearts apart. "But sometimes I wonder… do you see me, or do you see the girl you want to protect?"
The question hung in the air — quiet, sharp, real.
Randy didn't answer right away. His hands tightened, then loosened again.
And then — "Is that what you feel with Miko?"
Claire met his eyes. "With Miko… I don't feel like I'm being saved. I just feel… like I'm standing next to someone who trusts me to stand on my own."
The words came out soft — but they cracked something open between them.
Randy leaned back slowly, his jaw tightening. Not in anger. But in something close to silent surrender.
"I'm not trying to own you, Claire," he said quietly. "I just… didn't want to lose you without ever knowing if I even had you."
Claire blinked — the weight of his words sinking deep.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You never had to have me, Randy. You just… had to walk beside me."
A long silence fell — not sharp, not bitter. Just quiet. Like two hearts learning the language of letting go without breaking apart.
Randy nodded slowly, eyes soft but shadowed. "I'll walk beside you… if you'll let me."
Claire gave a small, genuine smile. "I want you to."
But they both knew — even in the calm of that moment — that something between them had shifted.
Not broken.
Not gone.
But changed.
Outside, the rain finally stopped.
And in the hush that followed, Claire realized.
Some bonds are built on saving.
Some on standing together.
And some… on knowing when to hold on, and when to let each other breathe.