Summer arrived with the heat of consequence.
The cicadas screamed from every tree, loud enough to drown the whispers that had once followed them—yet not loud enough to drown the tension that hung heavy between Miyako Takahashi and Aoi Nakamura.
It had been almost a month since the photograph.
A month since Miyako's parents found out.
A month since Aoi's quiet world had been invaded by the unkind light of attention.
They hadn't broken, not yet. But the world around them had begun to fracture.
---
Aoi sat in the dean's office, her hands folded tightly on her lap. The blinds were half-drawn, letting in slanted sunlight that turned the air dusty and uncomfortable.
Across from her sat Dean Murata, his expression polite but heavy with restrained judgment.
"I'm sure you understand why you've been called in," he said.
Aoi nodded faintly. "Because of the rumors."
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Because of your… relationship with Miss Takahashi."
Aoi's stomach twisted at the way he said the word relationship—slowly, like it was something dirty.
"I'm not here to pass moral judgment," he continued, though his tone already had. "But her parents have contacted the administration. They're concerned that your… influence is damaging her reputation and future prospects."
Aoi's breath caught. "My influence?"
The dean gave her a sympathetic look that felt anything but. "You must understand, Aoi. Miss Takahashi comes from an influential family. Their expectations for her are… different. It would be better for both of you if you kept your distance for a while."
Aoi's fingers dug into her skirt. She wanted to scream, to tell him that what they had wasn't something shameful, that it wasn't her fault that Miyako loved her.
But all she managed to say was, "I understand."
Because what else could she say?
---
When Miyako found out later that day, she was furious.
"They called you in?" she demanded, pacing back and forth in Aoi's small apartment. "They had no right! They can't just—"
"Miyako," Aoi interrupted softly. "Please don't. You'll only make it worse."
"Worse? How could it get worse? They're treating you like you did something wrong!"
Aoi smiled weakly. "Maybe I did."
Miyako stopped pacing, turning sharply. "Don't say that."
"I'm not you, Miyako. I don't have your strength. I can't fight them all."
"You're stronger than you think," Miyako said, voice trembling. "You just don't believe it yet."
Aoi looked away. "I just don't want to ruin your life."
Miyako stepped closer. "You are my life."
The words broke something inside Aoi. She shook her head, tears spilling freely now. "Don't say things like that. It's not fair."
Miyako reached out, cupping her cheek. "Maybe the world isn't fair. But you—you're the only thing that feels right."
And Aoi leaned into her touch, closing her eyes, wishing the world could stay that small forever.
---
But the world didn't stop for them.
It rarely does.
A week later, Miyako's mother arrived unannounced.
It happened during lunch break. Aoi was sitting alone under the camphor tree, her sketchbook open, when a black car pulled up near the main building. She didn't notice until she heard her name.
"Nakamura-san."
The voice was elegant, crisp, and unmistakably Miyako's mother's.
Aoi stood immediately, heart pounding. The older woman approached with an air of effortless authority, her tailored white dress immaculate, her posture as perfect as her daughter's.
"I thought it was time we spoke," Mrs. Takahashi said coolly. "Privately."
Aoi swallowed hard. "Of course."
They walked a little away from the students—far enough for their words to be lost in the wind.
"I'll be direct," Mrs. Takahashi began. "I don't know what kind of ideas you've given my daughter, but this… situation cannot continue."
Aoi opened her mouth to speak, but the older woman's eyes cut through her like glass.
"Miyako has responsibilities," she continued. "A name. A future. Do you understand what people are saying about her? About you?"
Aoi's hands clenched at her sides. "We're not doing anything wrong."
Mrs. Takahashi's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Morality is not decided by what you think is right, Nakamura-san. Society decides. And society is not kind to girls like you."
Her voice softened slightly—more dangerous than anger. "End this before you destroy both your lives."
Aoi's throat ached, but she managed to whisper, "I love her."
Mrs. Takahashi's eyes narrowed. "You're young. You don't understand what love means yet."
And with that, she turned and left—graceful, untouchable, leaving Aoi standing under the summer sun with her heart cracking quietly inside her chest.
---
That night, Aoi didn't answer Miyako's messages.
Not because she didn't want to—but because she didn't know what to say anymore.
When Miyako finally showed up at her door, breathless from running, Aoi couldn't even look at her.
"Your mother came to see me," she said quietly.
Miyako froze. "She what?"
"She told me to end it."
Miyako's voice broke into a whisper. "And are you going to?"
Aoi looked up then, tears brimming. "What do you want me to do, Miyako? She's right. The world doesn't want us. Your family will never accept it. Our classmates think it's disgusting. Even the school—"
"I don't care!" Miyako shouted, her voice raw. "I don't care about any of them!"
Aoi took a step back. "But I do."
Miyako blinked, her anger faltering. "Aoi…"
"I can handle being invisible," Aoi said, her voice trembling. "But I can't handle being the reason you lose everything."
Miyako shook her head desperately. "You are everything!"
Aoi's tears finally fell. "And that's why I have to let you go."
The words shattered the air between them.
Miyako stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe.
Aoi could barely stand.
When Miyako finally spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. "If I walk away now, will you still think of me?"
Aoi nodded. "Every day."
---
That night, the city was quiet.
Miyako walked home alone, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the empty streets.
Her phone buzzed once.
A message from Aoi.
Aoi:
I'm sorry. I love you. But maybe love isn't enough.
Miyako stood there for a long time, the words burning on the screen.
Then she typed a single reply.
Miyako:
Then I'll make it enough.
She didn't send it.
She just stared at it until the tears blurred everything into light.
---