The wind whispered softly against the metal railing as Haruto stepped onto the rooftop, the vast expanse of the city stretching beyond the edges of the university. The sky was tinged with the hues of twilight, the last remnants of daylight melting into the embrace of the encroaching night. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair as he leaned against the railing, his heart thrumming in his chest like the distant hum of the world below.
Aiko had asked him to meet her here, her voice hesitant yet resolute. It wasn't unusual for them to share moments like this—quiet, stolen fragments of time away from the rest of the world. And yet, something in the way she had spoken had made his stomach twist with an unfamiliar unease.
He turned at the sound of the door creaking open, and there she was—Aiko, her figure framed by the dim glow of the rooftop lights. She stepped forward, the wind catching her long hair and making it dance like ink against the fading sky.
"You came," she murmured, her voice barely louder than the breeze.
Haruto chuckled softly, a poor attempt at easing the weight in his chest. "Of course. You sounded serious on the phone."
Aiko took a few steps closer, stopping just shy of him. Her hands clutched the fabric of her sweater, as though grounding herself. "Haruto," she began, her voice wavering before she steadied it. "There's something I need to tell you."
The air between them thickened, charged with an invisible tension. Haruto swallowed, his mind racing through the possibilities. Had something happened? Was she okay?
"Aiko…" he prompted gently, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder, but stopping himself midway.
She lifted her gaze to meet his, and in that moment, he saw it—the quiet storm behind her dark eyes, the vulnerability she had always been so careful to mask.
"I've been holding onto this for too long," she said, her fingers tightening into fists. "And if I don't say it now, I might never get the chance."
Haruto's breath caught, his pulse hammering against his ribs. He knew. Even before the words left her lips, something deep within him already knew.
"I love you, Haruto."
The confession fell between them, raw and unguarded, echoing softly against the silence of the night.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The world around them seemed to fade, the city lights below becoming nothing more than distant stars in an infinite sky.
Haruto stared at her, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Love. The word felt almost too fragile, too sacred to exist in the same space as the two of them.
"Aiko…" he breathed, her name tasting like something new on his tongue.
She let out a small, breathless laugh, though her hands trembled at her sides. "You don't have to say anything," she said, misreading the hesitation in his silence. "I just… I just needed you to know."
Haruto felt a pang in his chest at the way her voice cracked, at the way she looked down as if bracing herself for rejection.
"Hey," he said, stepping closer, his fingers finally finding the courage to cup her cheek. She gasped slightly at the touch, her wide eyes flickering up to meet his. "Do you really think I wouldn't feel the same?"
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.
Haruto smiled then, soft and warm. "You're an idiot, Aiko."
She blinked, confusion crossing her face. "What—?"
Before she could finish, he leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against hers.
"Because I've loved you for a long time too," he admitted, the weight of the truth finally lifting from his shoulders. "I just never thought I'd have the courage to say it first."
Aiko's breath hitched, her eyes searching his as though trying to decipher whether he truly meant it. But there was no doubt in his expression—only the quiet certainty of a boy who had spent far too long pretending his heart wasn't entirely hers.
The tension between them dissolved into something softer, something that hummed with quiet electricity. The distant noise of the city below faded into insignificance as Haruto's fingers traced the curve of Aiko's cheek, his touch gentle, reverent.
Aiko let out a small, unsteady laugh, her eyes glistening. "You're the idiot," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
"Maybe," he conceded, a smile tugging at his lips. "But at least now, neither of us has to be."
Aiko let out a shaky breath before wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder. Haruto held her close, inhaling the faint scent of paint and jasmine that clung to her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no more unspoken words, no more lingering questions. Only the quiet rhythm of their hearts beating in tandem, their love laid bare beneath the endless expanse of the night sky.
The wind continued to howl around them, but neither of them felt the cold.
They had each other.
And that was all they needed.