They didn't argue.
That was what made it linger.
The comment came casually, slipped between steps as they walked away from the foundation building, night air cool against their faces.
"It's not as big a deal as it looks," Elian said. "Most of it runs itself."
Juni slowed.
Elian noticed a beat too late.
They stopped near the curb, traffic humming softly beside them. Juni turned, his expression unreadable—not angry, not hurt. Just distant.
"What isn't?" Juni asked.
Elian hesitated. "The… event. The scale. My family."
Juni nodded once, the motion small. "Right."
Elian continued, trying to smooth the moment. "I mean, I grew up around it. It doesn't feel overwhelming when you're used to it."
The silence that followed wasn't sharp—but it deepened.
Juni crossed his arms loosely, eyes flicking back toward the building where light still spilled from the glass doors. "I know you're trying to make me feel better," he said. "But that didn't."
Elian frowned slightly. "I didn't mean—"
"I know," Juni interrupted gently. "That's the problem."
Elian waited.
"When you say it's not a big deal," Juni continued, choosing his words with care, "it sounds like you're saying I'm reacting wrong. Like the weight I feel is… imaginary."
Elian's chest tightened. "That's not what I think."
"I know what you think," Juni said. "I don't know if you hear what you're saying."
They stood there, the space between them suddenly charged—not with conflict, but with misalignment.
Elian exhaled slowly. "I didn't want you to feel smaller because of me."
Juni looked at him then, something softer returning to his eyes. "I don't feel smaller because of you," he said. "I feel smaller because of the world you move through."
The distinction landed heavily.
"I just—" Elian stopped himself. Then, honestly, "I don't know how to talk about it without making it worse."
Juni nodded. "Then don't make it smaller," he said. "Just… let it be real."
Elian absorbed that, the urge to fix giving way to something steadier. "Okay."
They resumed walking, quieter now. The misunderstanding hadn't resolved cleanly—but it had been named.
And that, Elian realized, was its own kind of progress.