Chapter 2 - I have to confess, to Ena…

The clouds would turn grey as Mizuki would step towards Ena then say, "Ena?.. can I talk to you for a moment?" Ena would nod then follow mizuki to the rooftop.The wind swept across the rooftop, carrying the fading echoes of the festival from below. Mizuki stood by the railing, her hands gripping the cold metal as she waited. She'd told Ena to come alone, her voice trembling even through the message. When the door finally creaked open, Ena's footsteps were soft but hesitant, the kind that came from someone unsure whether they wanted to know the truth. "Mizuki? You said you wanted to talk." Mizuki turned, her hair whipping in the breeze, her eyes unreadable but glistening in the dim light. For a moment, neither spoke. The world felt too quiet, as if holding its breath for what was about to happen. Mizuki forced out a laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "You're always so straightforward, Ena. You don't even realize what you do to people, do you?" Ena blinked, confusion flickering across her face. "What I do to people?" Mizuki stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking until Ena could see the trembling in her hands. "You make everything brighter. Even the things that were never meant to have light." Her voice cracked, the words escaping faster now, like a dam breaking. "And I— I got lost in it." Ena froze, the meaning of Mizuki's words settling in like slow, heavy rain. "Mizuki…" she began, her tone gentle but unsure. Mizuki shook her head before she could continue. "Don't. I know how this ends. I already know you'll say you don't see me that way. That you care, but not like that." Her smile was fragile, the kind that could shatter if touched. "But I had to say it anyway. Because pretending it doesn't hurt doesn't make it hurt less." Ena's eyes softened, tears forming but not falling. "You're wrong," she whispered, stepping forward, "It's not that I don't care. It's that I don't know how to handle something this real." Mizuki let out a quiet breath, one that trembled between laughter and sobbing. "That's just it, isn't it? You're still figuring yourself out. And I'm just… here. Always a little too much, a little too different, a little too late." The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the hum of city lights below. Ena reached out as if to touch her, but Mizuki took a step back, her expression soft but resolute. "Don't. If you do, I'll never be able to let go." The words hung in the air like smoke, fragile and fading. Ena's hand fell to her side, her lips trembling as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. Mizuki looked up at the stars, her eyes reflecting their faint shimmer. "I thought if I told you, maybe I could finally breathe again. But I think I just made it harder." She turned toward the rooftop door, pausing only once. "Don't blame yourself. You were never the villain in my story." And with that, she walked away, leaving Ena standing under the night sky—alone, surrounded by the ghost of words too heavy to take back and too painful to forget.