Sometimes, no words need to be said.
Just one look is enough to put three hearts into a silent war.
It was a damp afternoon.
The sky remained gray, but the rain had slowed into a gentle drizzle.
Streetlamps near the food stalls outside the school glowed dim amber — the light reflecting off wet concrete and plastic tabletops.
Acxell sat at one of the outdoor tables.
His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, white shirt loose, top buttons undone like always.
His hair was still slightly wet, but he didn't care.
Across from him sat Yuriko — poised, composed, still in full uniform.
Blazer buttoned. Red ribbon tied perfectly under her collar.
Hair pinned half-up, eyes sharp… but her smile soft — the kind you don't buy, the kind that's never advertised.
"You're just eating and not saying anything."
Acxell chewed slowly, set his chopsticks down.
"I felt like eating. Not talking."
"I didn't say talk. I said you're quiet."
"Same thing."
"Only 'cause you make it sound the same."
Yuriko gave him a pointed glance but didn't lose the smile.
Acxell didn't answer — but it wasn't from boredom.
His eyes were locked on the table. Or more precisely… lost in thought.
The letter.
That small folded paper in his pocket.
Handwritten. No system. No numbers.
He didn't mention it.
Didn't ask.
But its weight lingered — and Yuriko noticed.
"She gave you a letter, didn't she?"
Acxell looked up. Slowly.
"What?"
"Selena."
"...You asking? Or answering your own question?"
"Doesn't matter. I already saw the answer."
Silence. But not an empty one.
It was the kind of silence shared by two people who knew each other too well —
Still circling a battlefield that hadn't exploded… yet.
Yuriko opened her mouth, about to say something — but didn't get the chance.
The sound of heels.
Clicking softly in the distance, splashing into shallow puddles.
A light step. Quick.
But… hesitant.
Acxell didn't turn. But he knew.
Yuriko stared forward — unmoved.
"It's wet," came a soft voice.
"Any seats left?"
Acxell looked up.
Selena.
Casual clothes. Gray hoodie. Hair down. No system aura.
No seduction. No sly blinking.
Her eyes… slightly red. But she was smiling.
"Looks like this table… isn't full yet."
Yuriko didn't reply.
Acxell just looked.
He didn't say "yes."
But he didn't say "don't sit," either.
So… Selena sat.
Three people.
One table. Four chairs.
But only one empty seat — and somehow, the space felt tight.
"The food good?" Selena asked lightly.
"I haven't eaten all day."
"You're not fasting," Acxell muttered.
"Wasn't hungry. But now…
I just wanted to sit somewhere."
Yuriko took a sip of cold water from a plastic cup.
Quietly. Placed it back down.
Didn't even glance at Selena — but noticed everything she did.
"You know," Selena continued,
"umbrellas aren't just for rain.
They're for keeping people warm, too."
Acxell gave a small smile.
"New philosophy?"
"Observation. I do a lot of that lately."
Yuriko finally spoke — voice calm, but firm.
"What are you really looking for?"
Selena met her gaze. Direct.
Not challenging. But not backing down either.
"A place of my own."
"That place doesn't have to be next to Acxell."
"But if that place is empty…
I'll sit there."
Acxell leaned back. Didn't interfere. Didn't intervene.
He let the two worlds speak for themselves.
"You know," Yuriko said quietly,
"sometimes people don't steal spots.
They just sit too long — until no one else can."
"And sometimes," Selena replied,
"no one ever marked the spot to begin with.
We just thought we owned it."
The rain thinned to a whisper.
The orange lamplight began to glow warmer.
Acxell checked his watch.
Stood. Picked up his blazer.
"Let's go."
Yuriko stood first.
Selena followed — a step behind.
Acxell reached for an umbrella leaning near the stall.
Three people.
One umbrella.
Yuriko stepped beside him. Silent.
Selena lowered her gaze — waiting.
Acxell held the umbrella. Looked at them both.
One second.
Two.
He placed the umbrella — not toward either girl, but left it on the bench beside the table.
"Walk your own paths."
And he stepped out into the rain.
Yuriko looked at Selena.
Selena stared down the street.
And both of them followed —
Not because they were chosen.
But because they both knew:
He won't choose who walks behind him.
The drizzle kept falling.
Raindrops and footsteps blending into the same soft rhythm.
But inside all three of them…
The real storm was just beginning.