The café Yuta had mentioned turned out to be a cozy little place tucked into a quiet corner street, with warm lighting spilling out through large glass windows. The smell of roasted coffee and fresh pastries greeted them as soon as they stepped inside.
Yuta seemed almost giddy, pulling out a chair for her before sliding into his own seat across from her. "See? Isn't this nice? Way better than being cooped up all day." His tone was light, but his eyes searched her face for a reaction, almost desperate for her approval.
Konoko smiled faintly, fingers curling around the warm ceramic of her cup once their drinks arrived. "It's… nice," she admitted softly. The space really was comfortable, with soft chatter around them and a lazy jazz tune playing in the background. Yet, beneath the calm surface of the moment, her thoughts betrayed her.
The memory of the night before—the massage, Kazuo's hands pressing carefully into her calf, then her back—flashed unbidden. Her chest tightened, her face warming instantly. She took a hurried sip of her latte, hoping Yuta wouldn't notice her sudden blush.
He leaned forward, trying to catch her eyes. "You've been so distant lately, Kono. I missed this. Us." His voice carried a boyish sincerity that made her chest ache with guilt.
She forced a nervous laugh. "I… I'm just tired, that's all. Work, studies, adjusting to everything."
Yuta grinned, clearly relieved she wasn't pushing him away. "Then let me help you. I'll always be around—you know that, right? You can rely on me, like when we were kids."
She nodded, but her heart was beating too quickly, not for him, but for the echo of Kazuo's deep voice in her mind—"It's good for her to go out." Even here, away from the house, she couldn't shake the way his gaze had lingered, how her body had reacted to it in ways she didn't dare admit.
Yuta reached across the table suddenly, covering her hand with his own. "Promise me you won't shut me out, okay?"
Her breath caught. She looked down at his hand, then at him, smiling as best she could—but inside, she could only think of how different his touch felt compared to the one she had been trying so hard not to crave.
Yuta's hand lingered on hers, warm but light, as though he was afraid she might pull away. His lips pressed into a hesitant smile, and then he spoke—his voice softer now, carrying something weightier than before.
"Kono… I need to say this. I know I always joked about it when we were kids, but I wasn't really joking. I—I like you. I always have." His fingers squeezed hers gently. "I thought maybe now… now that we're older… we could really try. For real this time."
Konoko froze. The clinking of cutlery, the hiss of the coffee machine, the chatter around them—it all faded to a dull hum. Her heart pounded, but not from the confession itself. Her mind leapt elsewhere, unbidden: to Kazuo's calm presence, his deep laugh echoing in the quiet of the house, the grounding weight of his hands during the massage. Her thighs pressed together beneath the table, and shame burned at her chest.
Yuta's hopeful eyes searched her face. "I can make you happy, Kono. I swear I can."
She swallowed, forcing a small smile. "Yuta… you've always been important to me. Really. But…" Her voice faltered, caught between truth and kindness.
He leaned closer, urgent. "But what? If it's distance, I'll move closer. If it's time, I'll wait. Just—don't shut me out. Not when I finally found the courage to say this."
Konoko's breath trembled. She pulled her hand back gently, folding it into her lap. "I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, her eyes fixed on her untouched drink.
The silence that followed was heavy. Yuta leaned back, shoulders slumping, but he forced a chuckle to mask the sting. "I get it. You don't have to answer now. Just… think about it, okay?"
She nodded faintly, her gaze lowered. The coffee had gone lukewarm, but her pulse still raced, her body restless with a heat she couldn't place.
When they finally left the café, Yuta walked beside her, chatting lightly about classes and future plans, pretending nothing had happened. Konoko smiled where she could, but her chest was tight.
The entire way back, all she could think was: Why… why did I feel more flustered with Kazuo than with Yuta's confession?
Konoko's voice cut softly into the lull that had settled between them. She kept her eyes forward, not quite able to look at Yuta.
"Um… Yuta… d-do you know how someone can, uh… volunteer? To help the homeless, I mean." Her fingers twisted nervously around the strap of her bag.
Yuta blinked at the sudden shift. "Volunteer? For shelters or food programs, you mean?"
She nodded quickly, grateful that he hadn't questioned why. "Y-yes. Something like that."
His expression warmed, as if relieved to latch onto something practical. "Yeah, I actually do. My university club sometimes partners with an outreach group downtown. They run food drives, clothing distribution, even some tutoring for kids. I could get you connected—if you're serious about it."
Konoko hesitated, chewing her lip. Serious…? I don't even know why I asked so suddenly… But the image of that hostile beggar's glare still clung to her memory, and a pang of guilt pressed against her chest.
She forced a tiny smile. "I… I'd appreciate it."
Yuta gave a firm nod. "Then I'll send you the details tonight. It's good you're thinking about this, Kono. Honestly, that's one of the things I—" He stopped himself, chuckling awkwardly, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, anyway. It suits you."
Her heart sank at his near-confession, but she quickly redirected her gaze to the busy street ahead. Anything to avoid his hopeful eyes.
Inside, though, her mind kept racing: What am I even doing? Why does it feel like every choice I make now has strings attached?
Konoko returned home later than usual, the evening light spilling into the hallway as she slipped off her shoes. The house felt still, almost too quiet, until she spotted Kazuo in the living room, sitting with his reading glasses perched low on his nose.
He looked up immediately. "Ah, there you are. Out with Yuta again?" His tone was casual, but his eyes lingered with a quiet curiosity.
Konoko froze for half a beat, hugging her bag to her chest. "Y-yes… we just walked a little. Talked." Her voice came out softer than she intended.
Kazuo gave a small grunt of acknowledgment, setting his book aside. "Mm. You look… preoccupied. Something on your mind?"
Her heart stuttered. She lowered her gaze quickly, cheeks warming. "N-no, nothing important. Just… tired."
But the lie felt heavy. Images of Yuta's words about volunteering still circled in her thoughts, tangled with everything else she was trying to suppress.
Kazuo didn't press. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Well, don't tire yourself too much. Tomorrow's another day. I'll have that lock installed on your door in the morning."
That reminder sent a fresh rush of conflicted warmth through her. She nodded quickly, mumbling a soft, "T-thank you, Kazuo-san," before retreating toward her room, heart pounding in her ears.
Behind the door, alone, she pressed her hands to her face and whispered to herself: Why do I feel like I'm living two different lives at once?