Miyuki's POV
The café was warm, the low hum of conversation wrapping around us like a blanket. Outside, rain streaked the windows in silver lines, but inside, the soft glow of the lamps made everything feel closer, more intimate.
Souta leaned across the table, his chin resting on his hand, eyes fixed on me as if I were the only person alive.
"You know," he said with that infuriating grin, "you're terrible at hiding your thoughts. I can tell exactly what's on your mind just by watching your face."
I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my latte to hide the heat crawling up my neck. "You're imagining things."
He laughed quietly. "Am I? Then tell me what you're thinking right now."
My lips pressed together. I wanted to say Haruto. I wanted to say that my heart still belonged to him, that Souta was only a friend, nothing more. But the words caught in my throat, tangled in the warmth of Souta's gaze.
Instead, I looked away. "I'm… just tired. School's been a lot."
He leaned back, stretching casually, his arm draping along the back of my chair though it never touched me. The space between us shrank all the same.
"That's what I mean," he said softly. "You don't have to act tough around me. You can just… be Miyuki. No pretending. No pressure."
Something inside me wavered. With Haruto, I was always trying to be enough sweet enough, loyal enough, supportive enough. With Souta, it felt dangerously easy to just exist. To laugh when he teased me, to listen when he spoke, to let my guard slip a little.
I hated it. And yet, I didn't pull away.
"Sometimes," I admitted, my voice low, "it feels like everything's changing. Like I can't hold on to what matters anymore."
His smile faded into something gentler, almost serious. "Then don't hold on so tightly that you hurt yourself. Let go a little. Breathe."
The words lingered, seeping deeper than I wanted them to. And for the first time, I didn't feel guilty smiling back.
Haruto's POV
The rain drummed against the wooden eaves of the mansion, steady and relentless. I sat by the open shoji screen, the scent of wet earth seeping into the room, notebook balanced on my knee.
The fragments had returned.
They struck me like lightning sharp, blinding images I could not escape.
December 18, second year: Miyuki and Souta in a quiet café, laughter spilling between them like a secret they shared alone.
March 2, third year: Miyuki leaning close during study group, Souta whispering something that made her cheeks flush crimson.
June 11, third year: Miyuki standing by the school gates at dusk, Souta holding an umbrella over both of them, rain falling like a curtain around their figures.
Each vision twisted like a knife, but I forced my hand steady, writing every detail with surgical precision. Dates. Times. Locations. Their body language. Their smiles.
I underlined one phrase three times: "Pattern of intimacy increases over time."
My pen paused. For a moment, the weight of it pressed hard against me the laughter I would never share, the closeness that had never been mine, the mother who had betrayed me long before.
But then the cold returned, steadying me like a hand on my shoulder.
They believe they are unseen, Valkyrie's voice echoed faintly, like a shadow curling inside my chest. They believe they are safe. But what is hidden is never lost. You will use their carelessness. You will turn their moments into chains.
I exhaled slowly, closing my notebook with finality.
Every secret they tried to bury… I would unearth. Every smile they thought harmless… I would make poisonous.
The rain fell harder, but inside I was calm.
The blade was sharpening