That night, Ren found it impossible to sleep. Airi had gone quiet after their talk, curling beneath the blanket with her back to him, as if the words she'd spoken had drained the last of her strength. He stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind refusing to settle.
Airi's past. Someone reaching out. Someone she thought was gone.
The words circled endlessly, refusing to let go. He had promised her she wasn't alone. But how could he protect her from something he didn't yet understand?
By morning, he had made a decision—he couldn't just sit in the dark.
The café where Airi worked felt different that day. The chatter of customers, the hiss of the espresso machine—it should have been comforting, but Ren's senses were sharpened, every sound edged with tension.
He took a seat near the window, keeping his laptop open but his attention fixed on Airi. She moved gracefully between tables, her usual bright smile faltering whenever her phone buzzed in her apron pocket.
Ren noticed the way she hesitated before checking the screen, the flicker of unease in her eyes, the way her fingers hovered as if debating whether to silence the phone entirely.
When she finally caught his gaze across the room, she offered a small, tired smile. He returned it, but inside, his chest tightened.
Later, as they walked home together, the air carried the smell of rain again, though the sky had yet to break.
Ren reached for her hand. "Was it them again?"
Airi's steps slowed. For a moment she didn't answer, and that silence was enough.
"…Yes," she whispered.
Ren stopped walking, gently tugging her to face him. "Show me."
Her eyes widened, startled. "Ren, I—"
"You don't have to carry this alone anymore," he said firmly. "Please. Let me see."
Her hesitation stretched long enough to feel like a lifetime. But finally, with trembling fingers, Airi unlocked her phone and handed it to him.
Ren scanned the screen. Dozens of unread messages, all from the same number. The words were relentless—pleas, apologies, veiled accusations, and beneath them all, a clinging desperation that made his stomach turn.
"You can't just ignore me.""We're not finished.""I know you still think about me."
Ren's grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles whitened. He handed it back before his anger burned through him completely.
"Airi… how long has this been happening?"
"Since last month," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I thought if I didn't respond, it would stop. But it hasn't. It only got worse."
Ren exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. "You should've told me sooner."
"I know," she whispered, her eyes brimming with guilt. "I just… didn't want to drag you into something ugly."
Ren reached out, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Airi. Whatever it is—we face it together. Understand?"
Her eyes closed, a tear slipping free as she nodded.
The wind picked up then, carrying the scent of rain stronger than before. Ren tilted his head toward the sky, his expression hardening.
If this shadow from her past thinks they can worm their way back into her life… they're about to learn she's not the same girl they once knew. And she's not alone anymore.