The stress of exams hung heavily in the air, and the campus was alive with tension—students hunched over textbooks, flipping through notes, exchanging frantic whispers about subjects they barely understood.
Mika and Rina had taken charge of organizing a group study session in one of the quieter lounges, hoping that forced collaboration would make cramming slightly more bearable.
Kouko had reluctantly agreed to join them.
Her notebook lay open in front of her, but her focus wasn't there.
Her pen tapped absently against the table's edge, a quiet rhythm against the distant murmurs of the study group.
Across from her, Tatsuya.
Lounging in his chair as if he belonged there. As if he always had.
The front legs of his chair barely touched the floor as he leaned back, arms stretched behind his head—too comfortable. Too at ease.
And then—his voice cut through the quiet.
"You know, Kouko," Tatsuya said smoothly, his tone light, teasing—but unmistakably pointed.
"If you'd just say yes, I might stop pestering you."
He tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction with lazy amusement before adding, "No promises, though."
Kouko's shoulders stiffened.
Her smile tightened.
"I already told you, Tatsuya," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "I need more time."
Tatsuya exhaled slowly, as if he had already expected that answer.
"Time," he repeated, rolling the word across his tongue like he was testing its weight.
Then—his smirk widened.
"Alright, I'll wait," he said, leaning forward slightly. His fingers drummed against the table—casual, effortless, but deliberate.
"But don't take too long…" He paused, flashing a grin. "Or someone might beat me to it."
Kouko's fingers fidgeted with the corner of the page in her notebook.
It wasn't that she disliked Tatsuya.
But something about the way he said things—so confidently, so sure of himself—made her feel like she was already losing a game she didn't even remember agreeing to play.
She didn't want to say anything that would encourage him.
But she also didn't want to say something that might turn things sour.
So, she stayed quiet.
Focused on her notes, trying to pretend she wasn't uncomfortable.
The others were still talking, still laughing, still playing along.
And yet—
She couldn't shake the feeling that she was the only one not enjoying this moment.
On the Other Side of the Glass
Ili's steps slowed as he passed the lounge.
His mind had been preoccupied with exams, deadlines, everything except what was happening on the other side of the glass.
Until he heard her laugh.
Soft.
But not the kind that reached her eyes.
He turned his head, gaze drifting to the glass doors.
And there they were.
Kouko.
Tatsuya.
And the space between them that felt too small.
Ili's grip tightened around the strap of his bag.
He hadn't even planned to stop.
But now, he couldn't look away.
Behind him, approaching footsteps.
Haru's voice broke through first.
"Oh no," Haru groaned, stopping beside Ili.
"Not this guy again."
Daiki appeared at his other side, arms crossed, his expression one of deep disappointment.
"Seriously?" he muttered, peering through the glass. "Does he ever take a hint?"
Ili didn't answer immediately.
His jaw had tightened slightly, his gaze fixed on the scene before him.
The way Tatsuya leaned forward.
The way Kouko didn't quite meet his eyes.
The way his arm rested on the table—too casual, too possessive.
"Apparently not," Ili muttered finally, his voice clipped.
Haru smirked, nudging him lightly. "You were thinking about joining them, weren't you?"
Ili hesitated, lips pressing into a thin line.
He didn't need to answer.
Haru's grin widened knowingly.
Daiki shook his head. "Good thing you didn't," he said.
"That guy's energy would ruin anyone's night. Looks like third-wheeling isn't on the menu."
Ili didn't respond.
But his grip on his bag tightened just slightly.
His gaze lingered on Kouko.
Her smile had disappeared entirely now.
Her fingers toyed with the corner of her notebook, her body language screaming discomfort.
And yet, she wasn't pulling away.
Tatsuya, of course, didn't seem to notice.
Or maybe—he didn't care.
"See?" Tatsuya was saying, his voice too smooth, too confident.
"This is where you're overthinking it."
He reached over—closer than necessary—and tapped her notebook with his pen.
"You've got it, Kouko. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Kouko let out a faint laugh.
Not real. Not even close.
"Thanks, I guess."
Ili felt something sharp twist in his chest.
"I can't just stand here," Ili muttered under his breath, ignoring the questioning glance from Haru.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
Without a second thought, he dialed.
Through the glass, he watched it happen.
Kouko blinked in surprise as her phone buzzed against the table.
Her eyes flicked down—
Saw his name.
And for the first time that evening, her expression changed.
She excused herself quickly, pushing her chair back, standing—too fast, as if grateful for the escape.
"Hello?" she answered, her voice quiet but cautious.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
"You didn't look like you wanted to be there."
His voice was steady, soft—not accusing, not pressing—just there.
Kouko's breath hitched. Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag. He was here?
"Ili?" she said, voice almost disbelieving. "You're… here?"
"Outside," he replied. His tone was calm, almost too casual, but there was something beneath it. Something she couldn't quite place.
"Come down the hallway," he continued. "Left at the corner."
She blinked. "Left?"
Her gaze flickered toward the lounge doors, where muffled voices and soft laughter still carried through the glass. She hesitated.
But something about the way Ili said it—so simple, so certain—made her move before she even thought about it.
Her steps were quick, silent against the tiled floor.
She turned the corner—
And there he was.
Ili stepped out from behind a nearby pillar, his posture relaxed, hands in his pockets. But his eyes—sharp, focused, watching her—told a different story.
Kouko slowed to a stop, the space between them barely a few feet, yet it felt like miles.
"You could've just ignored me," she said, her voice softer now, almost shy.
Ili shrugged slightly. "Didn't feel right."
His voice was calm, casual. But the weight of his words pressed against her chest.
"You didn't seem like yourself."
Kouko exhaled, looking down for a moment before gripping her phone tighter.
He noticed.
Out of everyone in that room—he noticed.
"Thanks," she murmured, barely audible. "For noticing."
Ili nodded, leaning back against the wall. "Are you okay?"
It was such a simple question, yet she couldn't answer right away.
Her fingers tightened around the phone as she glanced away. "I… I don't know," she admitted, her voice caught between hesitation and something else.
"Tatsuya's been…"
She trailed off, struggling to put it into words. How did she even explain it?
Ili's gaze didn't waver. "Persistent?"
His tone was even, neutral—but there was an edge beneath it.
Kouko let out a faint laugh, more exhale than amusement. "That's one way to put it."
She shifted slightly, feeling the weight of Ili's gaze.
He wasn't just listening. He was reading between the lines.
And then, for the first time since she left that lounge—since she left that conversation behind—she saw it.
A flicker in Ili's expression.
Something close to frustration.
Or maybe—anger.
"You don't owe him anything, Kouko."
His voice wasn't harsh. It was steady. Firm. Certain.
And it cut straight through her chest.
"If you're uncomfortable," he continued, "you should say so."
Kouko swallowed, gripping her phone tighter.
She wanted to say something. To explain. To tell him it wasn't that easy.
But when she looked up, his expression wasn't impatient.
He wasn't frustrated with her.
He was frustrated for her.
And something about that made her throat tighten.
"You make it sound so easy," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ili's gaze softened just slightly.
"It's not," he admitted, his shoulders relaxing slightly, his tone losing its earlier edge.
"But that doesn't mean you should put up with it."
Kouko stared at him.
Her heart twisted.
With something she couldn't quite name.
And for the first time all evening—the weight on her chest lightened, just a little.
"Thanks, Ili," she murmured again, this time a little steadier. "Really."
Ili nodded.
But neither of them moved. Neither of them said anything else.
And yet—the silence between them felt louder than anything before.
Neither of them moved, and neither of them spoke, but both felt the weight of something unspoken hanging between them.
Kouko shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against the hem of her sleeve. She wanted to say something—anything—but so did he.
And for a fleeting moment, it felt like neither of them would.
But then—
Kouko exhaled softly, breaking the stillness between them.
"…It's been a while since we talked normally."
Her voice was quieter than she intended, laced with something fragile, something almost hesitant.
"I… I kind of missed that," she admitted, then quickly added, "Not you having a round or anything."
Her cheeks flushed immediately.
The warmth crept up her neck, her fingers instinctively curling at her sides as she looked away. That wasn't how she meant to say it.
Ili blinked, caught off guard.
A breath of amusement escaped him, his lips twitching into something dangerously close to a smirk.
"Oh?" he said, his voice light. "That so?"
Kouko knew that tone.
He was teasing her. And that only made her face burn hotter.
She huffed, turning slightly as if to compose herself, but the moment she did, Ili caught a glimpse of something in her expression.
Not just embarrassment.
Something softer. Something familiar.
The way her brows knit together just slightly, the way her lips parted as if hesitating, the way her fingers tightened around the fabric of her sleeve—
He didn't know why, but it stirred something in him.
Something he couldn't quite name.
Something that almost felt like a memory.
His gaze lingered on her, watching the way the light from the window framed her face, catching on the strands of her golden hair.
For a moment, it felt like…
No.
The thought slipped through his mind too quickly for him to catch it.
Kouko, flustered by his silence, tried to shift the conversation.
Her voice wavered slightly, still carrying the remnants of her previous embarrassment.
"By the way… the other day," she started, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "I saw you talking to that girl from the literature club in the hallway."
Ili's expression remained unreadable.
Kouko, trying to sound casual, forced a small smile.
"She seemed pretty interested in whatever you were saying."
Ili tilted his head slightly. "You mean Ayane?"
Kouko's fingers twitched slightly at the name.
So, he remembers her name.
"Yeah, her."
Ili let out a small breath, shifting his weight against the wall. "She just had a question about a book."
Kouko raised an eyebrow. "A book?"
"She was looking for a specific edition of The Wind's Reverie and thought I might know where to find it," Ili explained, his voice even, unaffected. "She was planning to use it for a literature project."
Kouko stayed quiet for a moment.
Then—
"…Oh."
Just that.
Nothing else.
Ili's gaze flickered toward her, and something about the way she said it made him pause.
Oh.
A simple word. But it carried something beneath it.
She looked away, pressing her lips together, as if trying to convince herself she didn't care.
But Ili knew better.
For some reason—he knew.
Something about it made his smirk fade just slightly, his amusement softening into something else.
But instead of pushing it, instead of pressing further, he simply let the silence settle.
For now.
Because even if he couldn't quite put it into words…
Something had changed between them.
And somehow, he could feel it.
He nodded, pushing off the wall. "Come on," he said, gesturing toward the stairwell. "Let's get out of here."
Kouko hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the lounge as if weighing her options. The muffled sound of laughter echoed faintly from behind the door, and she exhaled slowly. "Yeah," she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Let's go."
Ili led her down the stairwell, their footsteps soft against the tiled steps. Neither of them spoke at first, the silence stretching between them like a fragile thread. The cool air from an open window on the landing brushed past them, carrying the faint scent of rain.
When they stepped outside, the campus was quieter, the usual evening bustle replaced by a gentle stillness. Kouko adjusted the strap of her bag, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. She glanced sideways at Ili, who was walking slightly ahead, his posture calm but purposeful.
"Thanks," she said again, her voice breaking the silence. "For noticing. For… everything."
Ili slowed, turning to face her. "You don't have to keep thanking me," he said, his tone light but genuine. "Just… don't let him pressure you into anything."
Kouko stopped in her tracks, her fingers tightening around her bag. "Do you think I'm—" She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Do you think I'm being too nice? Like, letting him think there's a chance?"
Ili met her gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think you're leading him on, if that's what you're asking. But sometimes being nice… gives people the wrong idea."
Kouko frowned, her eyes dropping to the ground. "I just didn't want to hurt him."
"Sometimes people need to hear the truth, even if it hurts," Ili said quietly. "It's better than letting things spiral."
His words hit her harder than she expected, and she nodded slowly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're right," she admitted. "I just… don't know how to say it."
"You'll figure it out," Ili replied, his voice steady. "But if he doesn't get the message, that's on him. Not you."
Kouko glanced up at him, her chest tightening at the sincerity in his tone. "You're a lot wiser than you look," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Ili smirked faintly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Don't let that get around," he said, his voice lightening. "I have a reputation to maintain."
She laughed softly, the sound genuine this time. For a moment, the tension of the day melted away, replaced by an easy warmth that made her heart ache in a way she couldn't quite explain.
As they reached the edge of the campus, Ili paused, glancing up at the darkening sky. "You should head back," he said. "It's late."
"What about you?" Kouko asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
"I'll stick around for a bit," he replied. "Clear my head."
Kouko hesitated, then nodded. "Alright," she said softly. "Goodnight, Ili."
"Goodnight, Kouko," he said, his voice steady as he watched her walk away.
She stopped after a few steps, turning back to look at him. "Ili?" she called, her voice carrying through the stillness.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"I'm really glad that you're back in Japan," she said, her voice warm but tinged with something she couldn't name. "Don't forget that."
Ili's chest tightened at her words, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he replied, his tone even.
As Kouko disappeared into the distance, For a second, he thought about stopping her.
About saying something else, something he couldn't quite put into words.
But the moment slipped away before he could catch it.
So he simply nodded.
Kouko turned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she started walking away, the soft rhythm of her footsteps fading into the hallway.
And then—
It hit him.
A flicker.
Faint. Almost imperceptible.
Like a thread of memory unraveling in the back of his mind.
A Glimpse Into the Past:
She was laughing.
The sunlight painted golden streaks in her hair, the warmth of late summer wrapping around them like a quiet secret.
They were outside, beneath the wisteria-covered archway.
The petals swayed gently, falling like whispers around them.
Kouko was standing just a few steps ahead of him, looking over her shoulder with that smile.
The kind that wasn't just happiness—but something deeper.
Something meant only for him.
"You're staring again," she teased, her voice carrying a soft warmth, playful yet knowing.
Ili blinked, caught off guard, as if he had been pulled from a daze.
Before he could say anything, Kouko took a step closer.
Her fingers brushed against his.
Not holding.
Just enough to be felt.
Her gaze softened, a quiet depth lingering behind her playful tone.
"You always do that, you know?"
Ili didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
Because he knew.
And so did she.
Back to the Present:
The sensation vanished in an instant.
The hallway was silent again, the only sound being the distant murmur of students in the background.
Ili blinked, his breath shallow.
His fingers twitched at his side as he watched Kouko's figure disappear around the corner.
His pulse was steady. But for some reason, his chest felt tight.
What was that?
The image of wisteria petals falling around them—it felt too real to be a dream.
Too familiar.
His brows furrowed slightly, confusion knitting between them.
He had never stood beneath wisteria with Kouko.
Had he?
His gaze drifted toward his hand—the same one she had barely touched in that fleeting memory.
He flexed his fingers slowly.
Why did it feel like something was missing?
Like something had been taken from him.
Something important.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
Shaking his head slightly, he exhaled, trying to dismiss the lingering unease.
But even as he forced himself to move, to walk away—
The ghost of Kouko's laughter from that memory still echoed faintly in his ears.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had forgotten something he should have never let go of.
The lounge had emptied out. The buzz of conversation had died down.
And Kouko still hadn't come back.
Tatsuya leaned back in his chair, jaw tight, his smirk from earlier slowly fading.
Across from him, Mika zipped up her bag, tossing a glance toward the hallway where Kouko had disappeared.
"She's been acting weird lately," she remarked.
Rina, sitting beside her, shrugged. "She gets like this sometimes."
Tatsuya said nothing.
Instead, his fingers tapped against the table, slow and deliberate.
Then—snap.
He shut his notebook sharply, making Mika glance at him.
"She'll come around," he muttered.
His voice was low. Edged.
Mika's expression shifted, sensing the change in his tone. But she didn't push.
She exchanged a quick look with Rina before standing up. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," she said, her voice lighter, as if smoothing over something unspoken.
As the group dispersed, Tatsuya stayed seated.
He wasn't in a hurry to leave.
His mind churned.
Kouko's abrupt departure.
The way she'd glanced at her phone.
It wasn't hard to connect the dots.
And then—there was Ili.
Lurking just outside the lounge.
Standing there like he was waiting for something.
Tatsuya's fingers curled against the table.
What's his deal, anyway?
That quiet, unreadable stare. That frustrating, calm detachment.
Ili didn't chase.
He didn't play games.
He barely spoke.
And yet—
Kouko kept looking at him.
Tatsuya exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax.
But the irritation lingered—sharp, bitter.
He reached for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
If Ili thought he could just stand there and exist in Kouko's space, like some silent presence she could gravitate toward—
Then maybe it was time to remind everyone who really belonged.