The next day felt longer than any before.
Aoi couldn't focus. Every clock tick dragged, every lesson blurred into static. Her eyes wandered to the empty seat behind her far too often—only to find Mizuki already watching her when she looked.
And when their eyes met, Mizuki didn't look away.
Neither did Aoi.
By lunch, whispers started.
It was subtle at first. A glance here, a smirk there. A few girls giggling behind cupped hands. Mizuki didn't react. She never did. But Aoi felt the heat creeping up her neck.
They didn't know anything.
They couldn't.
Still—it felt like they did.
After class, Mizuki appeared again, this time grabbing Aoi's sleeve with her usual quiet certainty. No words. Just a pull.
They ended up behind the gym building. The shade was deep there, cool and private.
"You okay?" Mizuki asked, her voice lower than usual.
"No," Aoi admitted. "People are starting to talk."
Mizuki raised an eyebrow. "Let them."
"I can't."
"Then don't listen."
"It's not that easy," Aoi snapped, surprising even herself.
But Mizuki didn't flinch. She simply stepped forward, closing the gap between them until Aoi's back hit the wall again. It was starting to feel like her spine would memorize its texture.
"Tell me to stop," Mizuki said softly.
"I—"
Her fingers were already at Aoi's wrist again, light but grounding.
"You want to disappear every time someone stares?" Mizuki asked. "You think hiding will make this less real?"
"There's nothing real—"
"Don't lie to me."
Their foreheads were almost touching now.
"You're afraid," Mizuki whispered. "And I like that. But I want you to be more afraid of losing this."
Aoi's breath hitched.
Then footsteps.
Fast.
Approaching.
Mizuki froze.
Someone was coming around the corner of the gym. Voices. Girls. Two of them, laughing.
In a flash, Mizuki grabbed Aoi's hand and yanked her around the back, deeper into shadow.
Too close.
Aoi's back was against Mizuki's chest now, the taller girl holding her tightly, one hand wrapped lightly across Aoi's mouth to keep her quiet.
Their breathing was the only sound.
Aoi's heart thundered.
The other girls passed, oblivious, their footsteps echoing, fading.
But Mizuki didn't let go right away.
Her mouth hovered near Aoi's ear.
"I like the sound of your heart," she murmured.
Aoi shivered.
"I hate you," she whispered back, muffled against Mizuki's fingers.
Mizuki smiled against her skin. "You're not very convincing."
Finally, slowly, she released her.
The moment stretched as they faced each other again. The air between them was charged, pulsing.
Aoi didn't move.
She couldn't.
She wouldn't.
Mizuki brushed a finger down her arm as she passed, walking away first—like always.
And Aoi stood in the dark, her knees weak, her chest still burning with the sound Mizuki said she loved.