From that moment on, something was… off.
Saki, who usually walked like she owned the entire beach, was now walking half a step ahead of me, then half a step behind me, then stopping altogether like she couldn't decide what the correct distance between two human beings was anymore.
Every time our arms almost brushed, she flinched.
Every time our eyes accidentally met, she looked away like she'd just been caught committing a crime.
This was the same Saki who once stole food from my plate without asking.
Terrifying.
We rejoined everyone near the beach umbrellas. Kyosuke noticed immediately.
He squinted at us. "Why do you both look like you just survived an emotional boss fight?"
"No reason," Saki said instantly.
"Absolutely no reason," I echoed.
Saki's dad hummed. A knowing, deeply suspicious hum.
Saki sat down on a beach chair and immediately stood back up.
Too close to me.
She moved to the other side. Sat down. Adjusted her hat. Adjusted it again. Dropped it. Picked it up. Dropped it again.
I pretended to be extremely interested in the sand.
Saki's mom smiled. "Saki, you okay?"
"Yes!" she said way too loud. "Perfectly okay. Never better. Living my best life."
She knocked over her drink.
Kyosuke leaned toward me and whispered, "She's broken."
"Don't," I whispered back. "She's fragile."
Saki overheard. "I am not fragile!"
She immediately tripped on absolutely nothing.
Everyone froze.
She straightened up, face burning. "I meant— I'm fine."
I offered her a towel.
Our fingers touched.
We both recoiled like we'd been struck by lightning.
Kyosuke burst out laughing. "Oh this is GOLD."
Saki pointed at him. "One more word and I bury you in the sand."
He raised his hands. "Worth it."
Later, when everyone went back to swimming, Saki and I sat under the umbrella.
In silence.
A very loud silence.
"So," I said, because my brain demanded noise, "the weather is… beach."
She nodded seriously. "Yes. Much sand."
Another pause.
"I like your hat," I added.
She touched it nervously. "Thanks. I've worn it a hundred times."
"It looks… different today."
She glanced at me. "Everything feels different today."
We both went quiet again.
Saki crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. "I'm sorry if I'm acting weird."
"I'm acting weird too."
"That's not new for you."
"Hey."
She smiled faintly, then immediately looked away again.
This version of Saki—shy, flustered, overthinking every little movement—felt unreal.
And somehow… it made my chest feel even tighter.
Not in a bad way.
Just… heavy.
Like something important had shifted, and neither of us knew how to stand properly in the new space it created.
We stayed there, side by side, awkward and quiet, both painfully aware of each other—
Two people pretending nothing changed.
While absolutely everything had.
We didn't plan to talk.
That's the thing.
We just… kept sitting there. The sound of waves filling the silence like it was doing all the emotional labor for us.
Finally, Saki hugged her knees and blurted out, "Okay this is unbearable."
I jumped. "WHAT is?"
"This." She waved vaguely between us. "The not-talking while clearly thinking the same thing."
"…We are?" I asked.
She looked at me. "You're not thinking about it?"
"I have been thinking about it nonstop since you said the word girlfriend."
"Good," she said. "Because same."
That did not calm me.
She took a deep breath, like someone about to jump into cold water. "So. Let's confirm things."
My soul prepared a resignation letter.
"O-okay," I said.
She spoke fast. "I like you. I've liked you for a while. Longer than I realized. And when you confessed during your fever, I thought it was stupid but also honest and also very you."
My brain screamed.
"And I accepted because I wanted to," she added quickly, face red. "Not because you were sick. Just… to be clear."
I stared at the sand. "I like you too."
She froze.
"…You do?" she asked softly.
"Yes," I said, then panicked. "I mean— obviously— I already did— since I confessed— but now I'm saying it with a functional brain."
She laughed. A nervous, breathy laugh. "Good. That's an upgrade."
We both sat there, processing.
"So," she said slowly, "that means we're…"
"…Dating?" I offered, voice cracking.
She nodded. "Dating."
Another pause.
"That's terrifying," I said.
She nodded harder. "Extremely."
"But also," I added, "kind of nice."
She smiled. "Yeah."
Silence again.
Then she frowned. "Wait. What are the rules?"
"Rules?"
"Yes. Like… do we hold hands? Or is that advanced level content?"
"I think that's unlocked later," I said seriously. "After character development."
She snorted. "What about hugging?"
My brain blue-screened.
"…Situational," I replied.
She giggled, then immediately covered her face. "Why am I so embarrassed? I'm usually normal!"
"I think your cheerful personality died somewhere between confession and breakfast," I said.
She peeked through her fingers. "Rude."
I scratched my cheek. "So… we take it slow?"
"Yes," she said instantly.
"Very slow."
"Painfully slow."
"Like tutorial mode."
She nodded. "Good. Because if we go any faster I might explode."
"Same," I said. "I almost exploded three times today."
We finally looked at each other properly.
Still embarrassed. Still red. Still panicking a little.
But smiling.
"So," she said, standing up, "my boyfriend should probably stop staring at the sand like it owes him money."
I nearly fell backward.
"You can't just say it like that!"
She laughed, then froze. "Too much?"
"…A little."
She nodded. "Okay. I'll ease into it."
She took two steps away, then turned back. "Hey, Haruto?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad it was you."
My heart did something illegal.
"I'm glad it was you too," I said.
We stood there, two comedians with zero romantic skill, officially together—
And somehow… that felt just right.
Saki suddenly stopped walking.
That alone was dangerous.
She turned toward me with a grin that was way too familiar. The old Saki grin. The teasing one.
"Well," she said, tilting her head, "I guess you won't feel embarrassed anymore seeing me in a bikini now, right?"
My brain left the chat.
"…Huh?"
The words barely processed before she realized what she had just said.
Her eyes widened.
Her smile died.
A full second passed.
Then her face turned red. Like, instant overheating.
"WAIT—" she yelped.
She covered her face with both hands so fast I felt a gust of wind. "FORGET THAT! Forget I said that! I did not say that! Those words never existed!"
I stood there, completely frozen.
"…You said bikini," I managed.
"STOP," she snapped, peeking through her fingers. "Erase it from your memory right now."
"I don't think that's how brains work."
"I don't care," she said, muffled behind her hands. "Delete. Uninstall. Throw it into the ocean."
She turned away, shoulders shaking. "Why did I say that. Why. I was doing so well."
I opened my mouth, then immediately closed it. Anything I said here would end me.
She spun back around. "If you remember that, I will never recover emotionally."
"I— uh— what were we talking about?" I said quickly.
She dropped her hands a little, eyes sharp. "You're serious?"
"Yes. Blank mind. Empty. Like a rock."
She stared at me, suspicious.
"…You're lying," she said.
"Probably," I admitted.
She groaned and buried her face in her hands again. "This is the worst. I teased myself."
I tried very hard not to smile.
Failed.
She noticed. "Don't smile."
"I'm not smiling."
"You are."
"I'm suffering."
She sighed dramatically, then muttered, "Why is dating you harder than exams?"
I shrugged. "Skill issue."
She finally looked at me, still red, still embarrassed… but smiling again.
"Idiot," she said softly.
And for some reason, that felt better than any tease.
Dinner time somehow felt more dangerous than the beach.
Everyone gathered at the long table near the resort restaurant. The sky was orange, the lights were warm, and the food smelled amazing.
Normally? Perfect.
Tonight? Emotional minefield.
I sat down very carefully.
Saki sat down very carefully.
We did not sit next to each other.
Not because we didn't want to.
Because we were both suddenly hyper-aware that sitting next to each other would be… suspicious.
Kyosuke noticed immediately.
He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you two sitting like you're in different time zones?"
"We just like space," Saki said too fast.
"Yes," I agreed. "Large… healthy space."
Saki's mom smiled. "You two fought?"
"No!" we said together.
Too loud.
Too in sync.
Kyosuke's eyes sparkled. "Interesting."
Food arrived. Plates were passed around.
Saki reached for the salt.
So did I.
Our fingers touched.
For half a second.
We both recoiled like we'd been burned.
"I'm so sorry," she blurted.
"No, my fault," I said.
"I wasn't looking."
"I was looking too much."
What did that even mean.
Everyone stared.
Saki's dad cleared his throat slowly. "Everything okay?"
"Yes," Saki said, posture straight. "Perfectly okay."
She immediately knocked her spoon onto the floor.
I picked it up.
Our eyes met.
We both looked away like we'd been caught holding hands in public.
Kyosuke leaned back, grinning. "You two are acting weird."
We froze.
Not normal weird.
Suspicious weird.
Saki shoved food into her mouth. "Mm! So good! Love food!"
Her mom laughed. "You're nervous about something?"
"Nope!" Saki said. "Just… hungry."
I nodded. "Very hungry. Emotionally. I mean physically."
Great save.
At one point, Saki laughed at something Kyosuke said.
I smiled without thinking.
She noticed.
I noticed her noticing.
She stopped laughing.
I stopped smiling.
We both stared at our plates like they had personally betrayed us.
Every small thing felt illegal.
Eye contact? Illegal.
Smiling? Illegal.
Existing in the same radius? Extremely illegal.
And the worst part?
Nobody knew.
Which somehow made everything ten times worse.
By the end of dinner, my face hurt from pretending to be normal.
Saki stood up quickly. "I'm— going to get water."
I stood up at the exact same time. "I'll— also— hydrate."
We froze.
Kyosuke raised an eyebrow. "You two share a water addiction now?"
Saki sat back down instantly.
I did too.
We avoided each other's gaze, both painfully aware of the same thought:
How are we supposed to survive this trip?
Because if dinner was this bad…
The night wasn't even over yet.
Dinner ended.
Which should have been a relief.
It was not.
It was the beginning of my descent.
I walked down the hotel hallway like a man heading toward his own execution.
Soft yellow lights lined the walls. The carpet was too quiet. Every step felt loud, like the universe was announcing my panic.
Okay. Calm down, I told myself.
You've shared a room with her before.
You've survived worse.
Immediately, my brain replied:
Not. Like. This.
Before, she was Saki. Childhood friend. Safe. Familiar.
Now?
She was Saki-who-is-my-girlfriend-and-also-sleeps-and-also-breathes-and-also-exists-on-the-same-bed.
I swallowed.
The hallway felt longer than it should've been. I passed three doors. Then another. Each one mocking me.
This is fine, I thought.
You are mature.
You are respectful.
You are not going to panic.
My heart responded by beating like it was trying to escape my ribcage.
Images attacked me without warning.
Last night.
Her arm around me.
Her leg hooked over mine.
Her breathing.
Her warmth.
I stopped walking.
"No," I whispered to myself. "Not now."
I resumed walking, faster this time, like speed could outrun thoughts.
What was I even supposed to do?
Where do I look?
Where do I sleep?
Do I face the wall?
Do I build a pillow fortress?
What if she talks?
What if she doesn't talk?
That somehow felt worse.
I reached the end of the hallway.
There it was.
The door.
Our door.
Room number staring back at me like a final boss.
I stood there, hand hovering inches from the handle.
Inside that room was Saki.
Alive. Awake. Probably equally embarrassed. Probably pretending to be normal.
My brain screamed.
My legs locked.
My soul considered reincarnation.
I took a deep breath.
Placed my hand on the handle.
And paused.
Because once I opened that door…
There was no going back.