The school library closed at 18:00, but the student council had special access until 21:00 for "project work." Akira had used that privilege exactly twice before today.
Tonight made three.
He sat at the long table near the reference shelves, laptop open, document titled "Final Script v4.7". The cursor blinked on the last line of the closing monologue.
He hadn't typed anything in twenty minutes.
The door opened quietly.
Sora slipped in wearing a hoodie over her uniform, hair down for once. She carried two convenience-store coffees and a plastic bag.
"You're still here," she said.
"So are you."
She set one coffee in front of him. Black. No sugar. Exactly how he took it.
He stared at the cup.
"I asked the vending machine guy," she said. "He remembers you."
Akira took the cup. Warmth seeped through the paper.
"Thank you."
She sat across from him. Pulled out her own latte and a bag of convenience-store onigiri.
"Couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about the ending. We still don't have the last line."
Akira nodded. "I've rewritten it six times."
"Show me."
He turned the laptop.
She read in silence.
Her eyebrows climbed higher with each paragraph.
"You made it… hopeful."
"Is that bad?"
"No. It's just… not you."
He looked at her. "What does that mean?"
"Your version of harmony is everyone going back to their assigned seats. Mine is everyone dancing in the wreckage."
Akira almost smiled. "We need both."
Sora leaned forward. "Exactly. So let's combine them."
They worked for two hours.
Line by line.
Argument by argument.
At one point Sora reached across to point at a sentence. Her fingers brushed his on the trackpad.
Neither pulled away immediately.
Akira cleared his throat. "This metaphor—fire and ice. Too obvious?"
Sora shook her head. "It's us. It works."
They finalized the last line at 20:47.
Sora read it aloud.
"…until hate becomes the spark that lights the dark, and we finally stop pretending we don't see each other."
Silence.
Then she whispered, "That's it."
Akira saved the document.
"v5.0."
Sora smiled—small, real. "We did it."
"We're not done yet."
"But we're close."
She stood. Stretched. "Walk me to the gate? It's dark."
Akira closed the laptop. "Yes."
They left together.
The hallway lights were dimmed for night mode. Their footsteps echoed.
At the school gate Sora stopped.
"Thanks for staying."
"You brought coffee."
She laughed softly. "Fair trade."
She turned to go.
Akira spoke before he could stop himself.
"Sora."
She looked back.
He hesitated.
Then: "Tomorrow. Don't be late."
She grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."
She disappeared into the night.
Akira stood under the streetlamp a long time.
The coffee was still warm in his hand.
So was something else.
Something he no longer wanted to name hate.