Monday.
The sky had cleared, but Shuu's mood hadn't.
He walked to school under a pale blue sky, bag slung over one shoulder, the sunlight too soft to feel real.
By the time he stepped into the classroom, most students were already seated.
Sakura was reading, as always.
Motoko was doodling in her notebook, as always.
The same routine.
But it felt… different now.
Shuu walked to his desk slowly.
When he passed Sakura, she looked up.
Their eyes met.
She smiled.
It was a soft, familiar smile—like nothing had changed.
But something had.
Shuu sat down.
He wasn't sure if it was distance or just insecurity, but it settled into his chest like fog.
Then—something tapped his desk.
He looked up.
Motoko was standing there, holding out a small, rectangular box.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Cookie," she said. "Made them over the weekend. Accidentally put in salt instead of sugar, but hey—it builds character."
Shuu blinked.
"…You brought one for me?"
"Duh. What kind of rival-slash-sidekick-slash-havoc fairy would I be if I didn't feed the guy?"
Shuu took the box cautiously.
"…Thanks."
Motoko gave him a wink, then turned and walked away.
He opened the lid.
Inside were three misshapen cookies—slightly burned, unevenly sized.
But warm.
Fresh.
Real.
He looked across the room.
Sakura had gone back to reading, but she was glancing in his direction every few lines.
Then back at her book.
Then back again.
As if waiting for something.
And suddenly, Shuu understood:
This wasn't just his story anymore.
He wasn't the only one building something.
Sakura was changing.
Motoko was intruding.
But he wasn't being erased.
He was being challenged.
This wasn't a route to be cleared.
This was a story with multiple authors.
And maybe... that was okay.
Shuu picked up one of the weird cookies, took a bite, and nearly choked.
"…She really did use salt."
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