The scent of grilled mackerel and soy lingered in the air, though neither of them touched their breakfast.
Ren sat across from Sayuri, fingers lightly brushing the edge of his bowl. She, as always, sat with perfect posture, her dark hair tied neatly back, her uniform collar buttoned all the way to the top. She smiled when their eyes met.
But something about that smile was... wrong.
Too symmetrical. Too rehearsed.
"About earlier," Ren began quietly.
Sayuri took a sip of miso soup.
"You were out a while," she said, her voice cheerful, as if reciting a weather report. "Did Aoi-san make you tea?"
"Yeah," he said slowly. "We talked."
"That's nice," she replied. "It's good to have friends nearby."
There was a pause. Ren tried again.
"You looked upset, Sayuri. When I got back."
She tilted her head, puzzled. "Did I?"
"You said 'I see' and walked away."
She blinked. Then smiled again.
"That? I was just thinking about dinner. Maybe I'll make nikujaga tonight. Grandpa likes that, doesn't he?"
Her voice was syrupy now, soft and gentle, but it only made Ren feel more uneasy.
"Sayuri…"
"Don't worry about me, Nii-san," she said sweetly. "You're the one who always bottles everything up. I'm fine."
She stood, gathering her dishes with delicate fingers.
"I'll leave early. I have to return something to the library."
And just like that, she slipped out of the room. The door clicked gently behind her.
Ren stared at his untouched breakfast. The mackerel had gone cold.
---
At Hoshigahara High, the classrooms still smelled of chalk and sun-warmed wood. Students lounged by open windows, fanning themselves with notebooks, gossiping in low voices. The rain from yesterday was already forgotten.
Ren sat in his seat, watching the light pass through the curtains.
"Still brooding?" a voice said.
He turned.
Kanna Yukishiro stood there, arms crossed over her chest, crisp uniform untouched by summer's messiness. Her long, ash-brown hair was tied back, a black ribbon knotted precisely at the base. The air around her carried the chill of early morning snow.
"It's been a while, Amakusa," she said.
Ren blinked. "Kanna?"
She gave a dry smile. "You remember. That's something."
"I didn't know you transferred back."
"I didn't tell you," she said coolly. "Besides, you had… other things to deal with."
Her words held no venom, but they weren't warm either. Kanna Yukishiro was always like this—sharp-edged, composed, never cruel but never soft.
Ren stood to face her properly. "It's good to see you again."
She didn't respond immediately. Her gaze flickered—briefly—toward the other side of the classroom.
Aoi Tsukimori had just walked in, slipping into her seat by the window with a small, tired smile.
Kanna's expression hardened.
"You're close to Tsukimori now?"
Ren hesitated. "We used to be neighbors. We reconnected."
"Hm."
She said nothing more, but the silence she left behind was heavy.
---
Flashback – Second Year of Middle School
The hospital room was pale blue and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Ren sat by Sayuri's bed, her small frame limp beneath the blankets. Machines beeped softly beside her. She had collapsed at school that week, her fever refusing to break for days.
He hadn't left her side.
Which is why he didn't notice the envelope until much later.
It had been in his shoe locker—pink paper, folded precisely, with his name written in neat, careful handwriting.
He hadn't read it right away. Days passed. Then a week. When he finally opened it, the words were simple, a confession written without embellishment.
But by then, everything had changed.
And Kanna Yukishiro never brought it up again.
---
Between fourth and fifth period, Ren stood at the vending machine, trying to decide between cold tea or Pocari Sweat. The heat was creeping in again.
"Amakusa."
He turned. Kanna was there again, arms folded.
"Are you free after class?"
Ren blinked. "Today?"
"Yes."
He hesitated. "I was going to walk Sayuri home."
Her lips tightened. "Of course."
She turned to leave—then stopped.
"Do you remember the letter?"
Ren stiffened.
Kanna looked at him, eyes steady. "You never answered. You didn't even say anything."
"I wanted to," he said.
"Did you?"
"Sayuri got sick. I wasn't thinking straight."
She studied him for a long moment, then sighed.
"That's always been the problem with you. You carry too many things without deciding which ones to hold onto… and which ones to let go."
Then she walked away.
---
In the hallway, Sayuri stood by the shoe lockers.
Her eyes had been on Ren and Kanna the entire time.
She didn't blink.
Didn't smile.
Just watched.
Aoi passed by with a small wave. "Sayuri-chan, heading home?"
Sayuri turned her gaze slowly.
She smiled.
"Yes. Just waiting for my brother."
Aoi's expression shifted slightly—uncertain—but she nodded and continued walking.
Sayuri's eyes followed her down the hallway. Watched her until she disappeared down the stairs.
Then she turned back toward the classroom, where Kanna Yukishiro had just stepped out.
Her smile deepened, a little too sweet.
And a little too cold.