By the second week the auditorium had become their second home. The drama club advisor had given them a spare key; the lighting tech had started leaving the basic rig powered on. Word spread fast—everyone knew the top two were building something big. Some people came to watch. Some came to gossip.
Today the audience was larger than usual.
A group of third-year girls from the literature club sat in the front row with notebooks, claiming they were "researching narrative structure." Two guys from the soccer team lounged in the back, supposedly waiting for Sora's track practice to end. A first-year couple sat in the middle, sharing earbuds and pretending not to stare.
Akira noticed all of it. He hated distractions.
Sora seemed energized by them.
They were blocking the second scene—chaos manifesting as a group argument that fractures into individual monologues before reuniting.
Sora played the instigator. Akira the voice of reason. Supporting cast (five drama club volunteers) filled the other roles.
Mid-run Sora improvised again—grabbed Akira's tie during her line "You always think you're above it all!" and yanked him forward.
The stage went quiet.
Akira's eyes widened fractionally behind his glasses.
Sora froze, realizing what she'd done.
Then she let go like the fabric burned her.
"Sorry. Got carried away."
Akira straightened his tie with mechanical precision. "Warn me next time."
"Yeah. Won't happen again."
The volunteers exchanged looks.
One girl whispered, "Did she just…?"
The soccer guys in the back snickered.
Akira felt heat crawl up his neck.
They finished the run. Sora avoided eye contact during notes.
After dismissal the literature club girls swarmed Sora near the wings.
"Sora-senpai, that tie pull was genius! So much tension!"
"You guys have insane chemistry."
"Are you two actually dating or is this just method acting?"
Sora laughed—too loud. "Method acting. Definitely."
Akira packed his things slowly.
One of the soccer guys approached him while Sora was still surrounded.
"Yo, Takahashi. Didn't know you had it in you. Letting her grab your tie like that? Bold."
Akira didn't look up. "It was scripted."
"Uh-huh. Looked pretty real from back here."
Akira zipped his bag. "If you're waiting for Hayashi, practice starts in ten minutes on the field."
The guy grinned. "Yeah. But I'm not waiting for practice."
Akira finally met his eyes. "Then why are you here?"
The guy shrugged. "She's fun to watch. Especially when she's messing with you."
Akira's grip tightened on the bag strap.
Sora appeared then, waving off the last of the girls.
"Hey, let's go over the monologue transitions tomorrow. I think we can—"
She stopped when she saw the soccer guy.
"Kenji? You're still here?"
"Thought I'd walk you to the field."
Sora blinked. "I'm good. Takahashi and I still have to—"
"I can finish alone," Akira cut in. Voice flat. "Go."
Sora frowned. "You sure?"
"Yes."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. See you tomorrow. 15:45 sharp."
She left with Kenji trailing behind her.
Akira stood alone on the stage.
He opened his notebook. Crossed out the tie-pull note Sora had scribbled in the margin earlier: "Keep? Feels electric."
He stared at the line.
Then he tore the page out.
Folded it.
Put it in his pocket.
He didn't know why.
He just knew he didn't want it gone.