At breakfast, Chiaki sat next to Hana, determined to focus on her meal and avoid distractions. The room buzzed with quiet conversation and the clinking of cutlery—but her eyes were drawn to the door the moment Hayato walked in with Sohei. Her heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of him—tall, composed, and effortlessly commanding attention.
Before she could react, Elena quickly slid into the seat next to him, placing a hand on his arm and leaning in to whisper something. Hayato gave her a polite nod, his expression unreadable. Chiaki looked away, her stomach tightening with a mix of jealousy and frustration she had no right to feel. She stared down at her plate, but the image of Elena's hand on Hayato lingered in her mind.
Noticing her mood, Hana nudged her gently. "Ignore her," she whispered firmly. Chiaki gave a small nod and forced a smile, picking up her fork and poking at her food. She tried to focus on the taste, the texture—anything to distract herself from the irritation building inside her.
It's not my place to feel this way, she told herself.
After breakfast, the group boarded the bus back to the city. Chiaki took a window seat, resting her head against the cool glass as she watched the scenery blur by. The hum of the engine and gentle sway of the bus gave her a small sense of calm, letting her drift into thought.
But that calm quickly faded when she saw Elena sit next to Hayato near the front. They started chatting, and Elena's laughter soon echoed through the bus. Chiaki clenched her jaw and turned back to the window, pretending not to notice. Still, the sight of them together stung—a sharp reminder of the gap between her and Hayato.
Sitting beside her, Hana glanced over and sighed. "You're terrible at pretending you don't care," she said, half-teasing, half-concerned.
Chiaki closed her eyes. "I don't care," she whispered.
Hana raised a brow, smirking. "Right. And I'm actually a billionaire heiress."
Chiaki let out a quiet laugh, but it lacked its usual spark. She shut her eyes again, letting the silence wrap around her as she tried to sort through the storm of emotions inside her.
When they got back to the city, everyone said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Chiaki was about to head to the bus stop, her travel bag slung over her shoulder, when Hayato called out, "Chiaki, let me drive you home." His voice was calm but firm.
Caught off guard, she shook her head. "It's alright. There's a bus that goes straight to my place," she said quietly. But Hayato didn't wait for her answer. He simply picked up her bag and walked off toward the parking lot, leaving her no choice but to follow with a sigh, her heart racing as she trailed behind him.
During the ride, the silence between them was thick but not tense. Eventually, Hayato spoke, his voice soft. "Thanks for the medicine last night."
Chiaki glanced at him, cheeks warming. "It was nothing. I just had some with me. Are you feeling better now?" she asked gently.
Hayato nodded, a faint smile on his face. "Yeah. Thanks to you."
Chiaki looked away, heart fluttering at his words. Unsure what to say, she simply nodded and turned her attention to the window, watching the city pass by.
After a short drive, they arrived at Chiaki's apartment. Hayato parked the car and glanced at the modest building, his expression hard to read. "So this is where you live now," he said thoughtfully.
Chiaki nodded as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Yeah. After my mom moved back to take care of my grandmother, we sold the old house. I rented this smaller place on my own," she explained with a hint of nostalgia.
Hayato turned to her, his gaze steady. "Aren't you going to invite me up for a drink?" he asked lightly, though something in his tone made her pause.
She hesitated, heart racing, then finally nodded. "If you don't mind how small it is," she murmured.
Inside, Hayato looked around the cozy apartment. It was small, but neat and full of touches that felt very her. After setting down her bag, Chiaki handed him a drink and sat beside him on the couch.
"Thanks," he said, but instead of drinking, he reached out and gently took her hand.
Chiaki's eyes widened, her heart pounding.
"I'm sorry for leaving without saying anything ten years ago," Hayato said quietly, his voice filled with regret.
Tears welled in Chiaki's eyes. The hurt, the questions, the years of silence—it all rushed back at once. She tried to hold it in, but the emotions were too much.
Hayato's eyes darkened with guilt as he watched her cry, the pain in her expression cutting deep. Gently, he reached out and wiped away her tears, his touch soft and comforting.
"Can you tell me the real reason?" Chiaki asked in a quiet voice, her eyes searching his face. "I've been wondering all these years."
Hayato hesitated, his expression torn, then leaned in and wrapped his arms around her. "It was my fault," he murmured. "Back then, I was young and stupid. I never meant to hurt you."
Chiaki tensed at first but slowly relaxed in his embrace, the warmth she'd missed for so long finally surrounding her again. But even as she leaned into him, part of her stayed guarded—there was still a wall between them they hadn't broken down yet.
"Can you forgive me?" Hayato asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze.
Chiaki stared at him, conflicted. Then she gave a small nod, her voice barely above a whisper. "I forgive you."
Hayato let out a quiet breath of relief and hugged her again, tighter this time, as if afraid to let go.
After a moment, Chiaki stepped back and wiped her eyes. "Wait, I almost forgot something," she said, her voice unsteady but firm. She walked to her closet and pulled out a dress—the one she had borrowed from his house years ago. Holding it out to him, she said, "I've been meaning to return this."
Hayato shook his head, his expression gentle. "It's yours. You don't have to return it."
Chiaki hesitated, her voice quiet. "I'd feel bad keeping it. I don't want to upset your fiancée."
Hayato blinked in confusion. "Fiancée?"
Chiaki looked away. "That day I went to the airport... I saw her with you," she murmured.
Before he could say anything, his phone rang. The name Karina lit up the screen. Chiaki saw it and quickly stepped back, forcing a weak smile. "Sorry. I should go."
Hayato looked torn but nodded. "See you at work on Monday." As he reached the door, he added, "Keep the dress. Really."
Chiaki watched him leave, her chest tight with emotion. Even after all these years, things between them still felt unfinished, with no promise of how or when it would resume.