Steam filled the bathroom, thick with warmth, easing away the lingering cold that clung to Sakiko's body. She let out a long, comfortable sigh.
She was at Kyo's house, borrowing her shower.
Even so, she had only rinsed herself off with hot water—she hadn't touched any of Kyo's shower products. Her stubborn pride wouldn't allow it. This is all I have left, after all.
Once she had thoroughly washed away the chill, she dried herself off with a towel. Her own clothes had been tossed into the dryer, so for now, she had no choice but to wear Kyo's.
Kyo's wardrobe was filled with plain, simple clothing—button-ups, T-shirts, all clean and minimalistic. It suited her.
She was a bit taller than Sakiko, which meant that even Kyo's more fitted shirts were fairly easy to wear—except…
The buttons around the chest wouldn't fasten.
It was tight. Uncomfortably so.
How am I supposed to walk out like this?!
Even for a temporary change of clothes, borrowing someone else's undergarments was out of the question. As a result, the shirt left far too much of her chest exposed—and to make things worse, white fabric clung when wet. Even through the shirt, she could—
Knock, knock.
The sudden sound made Sakiko jolt. She instinctively turned her back to the door, her voice unconsciously tightening.
"Wh-what is it?"
"You've been quiet for a while after turning off the water. Did something happen?"
Sharp as ever.
For once, though, Sakiko was grateful for Kyo's perceptiveness—otherwise, she might have spent far too long hesitating over whether to bring up this shirt situation herself.
"I… might need something looser."
"Ahh… got it."
Kyo grasped the issue instantly. Her voice carried an odd mix of understanding and amusement before her footsteps padded away down the hall.
In the end, she handed Sakiko a much looser sweatshirt, along with a pair of regular long pants.
The warmth of a hot shower had a way of washing away exhaustion, especially after being drenched in rain. Now dry and comfortably dressed, Sakiko finally felt at ease. Her jumbled thoughts began to settle.
Looking back, her actions today had been completely reckless. She had charged in without a plan, like a runaway train, driven purely by impulse and emotion.
I'm still too immature.
Regardless of what came next, she needed to properly thank Kyo.
For giving her shelter from the rain.
For letting her use her shower.
For pulling her back before she could completely lose herself.
Sakiko thought back on her impression of Kikukawa Kyo. If she had to define her in one word, it would be genius.
In the band, Kyo had always been the reliable jack-of-all-trades—no matter what instrument she picked up, she could play it with ease. If she wanted to, she could have replaced any of them.
And yet, she had chosen rhythm guitar—a role that, while crucial, would never shine as brightly as lead.
Outside of performances, she never seemed troubled by anything. Always calm, always easygoing, as if nothing in life could truly weigh her down.
Could someone like that ever need help from others?
Sakiko wasn't sure how she was supposed to repay this favor. And if Kyo brushed it off as unnecessary, she definitely wouldn't accept it. The thought of owing someone without returning the debt would gnaw at her like a stone lodged in her throat.
She would have to talk to Kyo about this later.
About leaving CRYCHIC.
About how to make things even between them.
Even now, she had no intention of telling anyone the real reason behind her decision. She refused to let anyone see just how far she had fallen.
"…Kyo, I'm done."
Sakiko pushed open the bathroom door—only to freeze in place.
Kyo was still in her soaking wet clothes.
She was crouched just outside the bathroom, water pooling beneath her from her drenched outfit.
"…Why are you still wearing those?"
"Eh? Oh… I don't know. They still feel kinda nice?"
She tugged at the collar of her shirt, and the squelch of water was painfully audible.
"Getting completely soaked feels great, but I don't usually get the chance to experience this sticky, clinging sensation. It's… interesting."
Sakiko was stunned.
"…What kind of logic is that?"
Had she misremembered who Kyo was?
She had always known Kyo loved the rain, but wasn't this… excessive? Was this an actual problem she needed to be concerned about?
"Just go take a shower already. You're going to make yourself sick."
Instinctively, her voice took on the firm tone of someone scolding a reckless child.
Kyo lazily stood up, finally at eye level with Sakiko.
Now that her mind had settled, this was the first time today that Sakiko really looked at her.
A single droplet of water clung to her forehead, then slowly began its descent.
Her pearl-gray hair—once neatly pinned—had unraveled from the water, strands sticking to her forehead, her ear, the curve of her neck.
Then there were her eyes—deep, oceanic blue, always glistening, as if they belonged in the rain. Beautiful, but impossible to read. As if beneath that calm surface, hidden currents swirled unseen.
Then her nose, small and perfectly shaped. Her lips, damp and slightly parted.
The droplet traced a path along her jawline, down the smooth curve of her neck, slipping past the delicate dip of her collarbone—
—before disappearing into the soaked fabric clinging to her chest.
Sakiko's eyes followed it instinctively.
And in that moment, she realized—
She was staring.
Her gaze snapped away in an instant, forcing herself to look elsewhere.
What the hell am I doing?!
Thankfully, Kyo didn't seem to notice. She casually picked up the basket of fresh clothes and stepped into the bathroom.
Just before shutting the door, she turned back.
"I might take a while," she said lightly. "Sakiko, can you boil some water for me?"
"The kettle's in my room. You can wait there if you want."
"…Alright. I got it."
Hearing Sakiko agree, Kyo smiled in satisfaction and shut the door.
But almost immediately—barely a second or two later—the sound of water spraying from the showerhead echoed through the apartment.
Did she turn on the water before even taking her clothes off?
Sakiko was once again reminded of Kyo's baffling love for water.
Shifting her focus, she took a moment to observe Kyo's home. It was an ordinary apartment—nothing extravagant—but after leaving the Togawa household, Sakiko had learned how to gauge the value of everyday items. From the decor to the household goods, it was obvious that this family was quite well-off.
A pang of envy stirred in her chest.
Not just because of their financial situation—what she longed for most was something else entirely.
This home had something hers never did.
Sticky notes in different colors were scattered across the refrigerator, filled with family messages—reminders, small jokes, casual chatter. The dining table had four mismatched cups, lined up from tallest to shortest. Framed photos hung on the walls, and on the balcony, a simple handmade wind chime swayed in the breeze, its delicate sounds filling the air.
This was a home.
Something stung behind her eyes.
I already swore I would kill off the weak version of myself.
So why…
Why can't I stop these tears?
Sakiko hastily wiped away the few that had slipped out.
Taking a deep breath, she whispered to herself—
"I won't cry. I'll rebuild everything with my own hands… and take back the life I want."