It was nearly midnight when Ren returned to the common area.
Most of the lights were off.
A single lamp flickered in the kitchen, casting soft yellow light over a figure leaning against the counter.
Rika.
Her hoodie was oversized, mismatched socks poked out beneath the hem, and her hair was down—long, slightly messy, like she hadn't bothered fixing it all day.
She was sipping something warm, and didn't look surprised when Ren entered.
"Back from your rooftop redemption arc?" she asked, voice playful, but tired.
Ren scratched his head. "You knew?"
"Please. I knew who you were going to see before you did."
He stepped closer. "You always pretend like you don't care."
"I pretend a lot of things, lover boy."
She slid the mug across the counter toward him.
"Cocoa. Not drugged. I promise."
He sat on the stool. Took a sip. "It's good."
"Of course it is. I make emotionally repressed beverages."
Ren chuckled. "How does that even—"
"You ever think," she interrupted, swirling her own mug, "that maybe I started the kiss poll not just for fun… but because I wanted to know where I stood?"
Ren froze.
"I stir drama. I flirt with strangers. I cause chaos," she continued. "But none of it ever mattered unless you looked at me."
Her voice softened.
"But you only ever looked when I was laughing."
He didn't know what to say.
So she said it for him.
"I voted for Emi too, you know. Just like Mei."
"Why?"
"Because I thought if she won, at least we'd finally move forward. At least someone would."
She turned to him.
And for once—no teasing. No grins. No smug wink.
Just tired, vulnerable honesty.
"You never asked if I was serious."
"I was scared to."
"Well, I was serious. And scared too."
She looked away again.
"…But you didn't choose anyone."
"I didn't want to break any hearts."
"Well congratulations," she said, raising her mug, "you broke all of them equally."
Ouch.
But fair.
"I want to fix that," Ren said. "One by one."
She smiled sadly.
"That's such a Ren thing to say."
Then she leaned forward on the counter, close enough for him to smell vanilla shampoo and something sharp beneath.
"You're gonna talk to everyone else too, right?"
"I already talked to Mei, Yui, and Haruka."
"And Emi?"
He hesitated. "I will."
She tilted her head. "And me?"
"Aren't we talking now?"
"No." Her voice dropped, breath catching just slightly. "I'm talking. You're listening."
She stood up and walked toward him.
Then stopped, just in front of him.
"You always saw me as the one who wouldn't fall," she whispered. "The safe one. The chaos agent. The funny girl."
"I didn't know you were falling."
"That's the thing," she said, stepping back.
"I'm not sure I was… until I hit the ground."
And with that, she turned and walked away.
No punchline. No fake grin.
Just Rika.
Leaving Ren stunned.
Alone.
Again.
The next morning, the house was different.
Everyone said "good morning."
No one sat next to him at breakfast.
Even Emi.
The harem hadn't broken.
But the balance had shifted.
And now, more than ever…
Ren would have to choose whether to stay in the middle—or start taking real steps toward one of them.