There was something different in the way Aoi walked home that evening.
The rain had stopped, but her shoes still felt soaked, her socks clinging cold against her skin. The world was quiet, except for the slow rhythm of her steps on wet pavement.
She hadn't said goodbye to Mizuki.
Not properly.
Not the way she wanted to.
But how could she? After what happened in the hallway—after seeing the shadow of Mr. Kaname pause for that single breath of suspicion.
She felt like she was carrying something heavy in her chest. A secret pressing down. And worse than that—
A longing she didn't know how to name.
The next day, Mizuki waited by her locker.
She didn't smile.
She didn't speak.
She just took Aoi's wrist, gently but firmly, and pulled her down the side hallway that led to the old supply room.
No one used it anymore.
And Mizuki had the key.
The room smelled like dust and forgotten books. But it was quiet. And it was theirs.
Mizuki closed the door behind them, locking it with a soft click.
Then turned.
Aoi's back hit the wall before she could think.
Not hard.
But enough to make her gasp.
Mizuki's hands were on either side of her, not touching—yet.
"You've been avoiding me," Mizuki said, low and steady.
"I haven't," Aoi whispered.
"You didn't answer my message last night."
"I… didn't know what to say."
Mizuki's breath caught just slightly. "Because of the hallway?"
Aoi nodded.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Mizuki leaned closer.
Their foreheads almost touched. Her breath was warm against Aoi's skin.
"I don't care if he saw," she murmured.
"You should."
Mizuki finally touched her—a trembling hand brushing Aoi's cheek, curling behind her neck.
"I can't stop thinking about you," she said.
Her voice cracked.
"I don't want to stop."
Aoi's heart pounded.
Her hands were at her sides, clenched so tight they trembled. She wanted to touch Mizuki. She wanted to run. She wanted everything at once.
But she didn't move.
And neither did Mizuki.
Their lips were only inches apart.
Mizuki's other hand slid slowly to Aoi's waist, pressing gently.
"Tell me to stop," she whispered. "And I will."
But Aoi couldn't speak.
Couldn't breathe.
Mizuki's hand moved to Aoi's chin, lifting it gently—soft, reverent.
She didn't kiss her.
But she could have.
The moment hung there, suspended between them like glass.
And then—
A knock on the door.
Both girls froze.
One heartbeat.
Two.
"Who's in there?" a male voice called. "This room is off limits."
Mr. Kaname.
Again.
Mizuki's eyes widened—but not in fear. In something sharper.
Protective. Furious.
She grabbed Aoi's hand, squeezing it once, hard.
And whispered, "Don't say a word."