The days that followed were… easy.
Not happy in a loud way. Not carefree.
Just quiet. Balanced. Borrowed.
They met every afternoon like it was an unspoken rule. Sometimes at the river, sometimes at the café near the station, sometimes just walking with nowhere to go.
No one talked about August 28.
But everyone felt it.
Ren started smiling again.
Not the forced kind. The real one that reached his eyes, even if it didn't stay long.
Mio laughed more freely too, teasing him without the sharp edge from before. It still hurt—but it didn't control her anymore.
Yuna watched them both, memorizing everything.
The way Ren pushed his hair back when he was thinking.
The way Mio kicked at pebbles when she was nervous.
She was storing moments like she might need them later.
One afternoon, they shared shaved ice.
Four spoons. One bowl.
"Blue is the best flavor," Mio insisted.
"It tastes like regret," Ren replied.
Yuna giggled. "That's because you always choose wrong."
Ren pretended to be offended. "Wow. Betrayal."
For a moment, it felt like before.
And that scared Yuna the most.
That evening, she walked home slower than usual.
Her house lights were on.
Boxes stacked near the door.
Reality waiting patiently.
Her mother looked up from the kitchen. "You've been out a lot."
Yuna nodded. "I'm trying to be."
Her mother smiled gently. "That's good. Don't leave with regrets."
Yuna's chest tightened.
Later that night, Ren texted her privately.
Ren: Today was nice.
She stared at the message.
Then replied:
Yuna: Yeah. It was.
A pause.
Ren: Are you okay?
She typed. Deleted. Typed again.
Yuna: I think I am. I'm just… afraid of getting used to this again.
Three dots appeared.
Ren: Me too.
The peace lasted the rest of the week.
And everyone knew better than to believe it would last forever.
Because borrowed peace always comes with a price.
And the bill was coming.