Friday evening. The school was quiet—clubs gone, lights dimmed. Akira had stayed late to finalize the lighting plot on the computer in the booth.
He didn't hear Sora enter.
She appeared in the doorway holding two cans of iced coffee.
"Truce offering," she said.
Akira glanced up. "You're supposed to be at track practice."
"Coach let us out early. I saw the booth light on."
She set one can beside his keyboard.
He took it without comment.
They worked in silence for twenty minutes—him adjusting cues, her scrolling through reference videos on her phone.
Then Sora said, "I have something to tell you."
Akira paused the software.
She kept her eyes on her screen. "I've been getting scholarship offers. Three so far. All out of prefecture. One in Tokyo."
Akira's hand stilled on the mouse.
Sora continued. "If I take one, I'd leave after the festival. New school. New start. No more second place."
Akira stared at the screen. "You didn't tell anyone."
"Not yet. Not even Mai."
"Why tell me?"
She finally looked at him. "Because if I leave, the performance ends. But if I stay… I'm stuck being the girl who's always chasing you."
Akira's voice was quiet. "You're not chasing me."
"Aren't I? Every ranking. Every debate. Every stupid argument. I've spent years trying to beat you. And now I'm starting to wonder if I even want to."
Akira swallowed.
Sora laughed softly. "Pathetic, right?"
"No."
She waited.
Akira spoke carefully. "If you leave… the project loses half its vision."
"That's not what I asked."
Akira met her gaze. "If you leave, I lose my partner."
Sora blinked.
He continued. "And I don't want that."
The booth felt smaller.
Sora looked away first. "I haven't decided yet."
"When do you have to?"
"End of next month."
Akira nodded once.
Sora stood. "Don't tell anyone. Not yet."
"I won't."
She paused at the door.
"Takahashi?"
He looked up.
"Thanks for not making this weird."
He almost smiled. "I'm trying."
She left.
Akira sat in the dark booth for a long time.
The coffee grew cold in his hand.
He opened the lighting plot again.
But he didn't edit anything.
He just stared at the screen.
At the cue labeled "Resolution – Sora & Akira center."
At the note he'd added himself weeks ago: "Hold. Let the silence speak."
He saved the file.
Then he whispered to the empty room.
"I don't want you to go."
No one answered.
But the words stayed.