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(Ren's POV)
Aya came home later than usual that night.
I was half-asleep on the couch, a bag of chips balanced on my stomach, when I heard the door click open. She slipped inside quietly, as though afraid to wake me, but the second she dropped her bag on the floor, I knew something was off.
Her shoulders slumped. Her steps dragged. Her eyes, usually bright with either panic or sarcasm, were dull.
I pushed myself up. "You look like you just lost a fight with a photocopier."
Her laugh was tired. "You're not wrong."
I handed her the bag of chips. She waved it away, collapsing into the armchair with a sigh. "Ren… he's too sharp. He sees everything. If anyone's going to find out, it's him."
Ah. So we were back to him.
Mr. Hayato.
The tall, serious, impossibly put-together senior who had suddenly become the main character in all of Aya's late-night rants.
I forced a grin, masking the twist in my chest. "Relax. Everyone thinks interns are idiots. He's probably just impressed you know how to hold a pen."
Aya shot me a look. "No, Ren. He's different. He doesn't just watch… he notices." She rubbed her temples. "It's like he's already figured me out."
That made me sit up straighter. "And if he has?"
Her silence stretched long enough to make my stomach sink.
"I don't know," she whispered.
---
Later that night, when Aya finally went to bed, I sat awake, staring at the ceiling.
I should have been relieved. If this Hayato guy was decent—and Aya swore he was more observant than cruel—maybe he would help her keep the secret. Maybe it would ease the burden she carried every day.
But instead of relief, I felt something ugly clawing at me.
Jealousy.
Ridiculous, right? I was the one who had convinced her to take this path, the one who cut her wig, who taught her to lower her voice, who coached her on how to walk with heavier steps. I'd been there from the beginning, holding her hand through every panic attack.
And now… now some stranger in a suit might swoop in and take over?
No. I didn't like that idea one bit.
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The next morning, Aya was buzzing with nervous energy. She adjusted her tie three times before we even left the apartment.
"You're going to rip it off if you keep fiddling," I teased, leaning against the doorway.
"Easy for you to say," she muttered. "You're not the one pretending to be someone else all day."
I smirked. "Actually, I pretend to be a responsible adult every day. Same thing."
She threw a sock at me.
But beneath the banter, I saw it—the flicker of determination in her eyes. Aya might doubt herself, but she was strong. Stronger than she knew.
I just wished she remembered that it wasn't Hayato she should lean on for strength. It was me.
---
When she left, I found myself pacing the apartment. Irrational thoughts filled my head.
What if Hayato told her he knew? What if he offered to "protect" her? What if Aya started trusting him more than me?
The very idea made me scowl.
And the worst part? I couldn't do anything. I couldn't storm into her office and announce, Hey, I'm her gay best friend, back off. That would just blow everything up.
No. All I could do was wait. And watch Aya slip further into someone else's world.
---
By the third day, my fears weren't just paranoia.
Aya came home… smiling.
Not the exhausted, sarcastic grin she usually gave me after work. No, this was different. Softer. Genuine.
"What's with the face?" I asked casually, masking the twist in my chest.
She shrugged, trying to play it off. But her cheeks were pink. "He… he helped me today. Covered for me when I messed up a report. Didn't even scold me. Just… fixed it quietly and told me to try again."
I forced a laugh. "Wow. A senior who doesn't yell? Must be a unicorn."
But inside, my stomach churned.
Because I knew that look. Aya had always been cautious, always guarded. For her to smile like that—so open, so relieved—meant something.
And I wasn't ready for that something.
---
That night, I lay awake again, staring at the ceiling.
I wanted to be happy for her. Really, I did. If Hayato turned out to be an ally, it could make her internship bearable. He could protect her when I couldn't be there.
But the thought of Aya depending on him instead of me—laughing at his quiet comments, trusting his sharp eyes—made my chest ache.
For years, it had been just us against the world. I was the one who knew all her secrets. I was the one who made her laugh when she cried. I was the one who patched her heart back together every time life shattered it.
And now… maybe I wasn't the only one anymore.
The thought scared me more than anything.
Because if Aya didn't need me… who was I, then?
---
Still, one thing was clear.
If Hayato really knew the truth, if he really wanted to help her, then fine. But he'd have to prove himself.
Aya was my best friend. My family. My person.
And if this sharp-eyed, perfect-suit man thought he could just walk into her life and replace me…
He had another thing coming.
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