Shattered Echoes
--
The days following their unspoken fallout felt like an eternity. Kaito found himself stuck in a routine devoid of warmth, filled only with the hollow echoes of what once was. His phone remained silent. No morning texts from Misaki. No playful teasing from Hina about his love life. Just silence.
And it was suffocating.
He told himself he didn't care. That it was better this way. That maybe—just maybe—he had been foolish to think something real was ever blossoming between them.
But deep down, he knew he was lying to himself.
---
The university halls buzzed with activity, students moving between classes, laughter and conversation filling the air. Kaito walked through it all, yet everything felt distant. Muted.
Then he saw her.
Misaki stood near the library entrance, her eyes searching the crowd, a flicker of hesitation on her face. For a moment, Kaito thought—hoped—she was looking for him. But then Daichi appeared at her side, and that hope crumbled into dust.
Kaito clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. He had had enough.
---
Later that evening, Kaito sat on the rooftop of his family estate, staring at the sky. The city lights flickered below, but his mind was elsewhere.
A soft rustling behind him broke the silence. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"Onii-sama," Hina's voice was unusually quiet.
He sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
Hina sat beside him anyway, hugging her knees to her chest. For a moment, she said nothing. Then—
"She came looking for you today."
Kaito stiffened. "Who?"
Hina shot him an unimpressed look. "Don't play dumb."
Kaito exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "And?"
"She seemed... off," Hina admitted. "Like she wanted to say something but didn't know how."
Kaito scoffed. "Yeah? Maybe she was too busy with Daichi to figure it out."
Hina frowned. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"
He didn't answer. Because he didn't know what to believe anymore.
---
The next day, Kaito found himself walking towards the café—the one they used to go to together. He told himself it was just for coffee, but deep down, he knew better.
He hadn't expected to see her there.
Misaki sat by the window, alone this time, stirring her drink absentmindedly. Her eyes were distant, lost in thought. And for the first time in days, Kaito saw it—the same ache in her expression that mirrored his own.
Something in his chest tightened.
Before he could stop himself, he walked over. She looked up, her eyes widening slightly as their gazes met.
"Kaito…" she breathed, as if she hadn't expected to see him either.
He hesitated for a second before pulling out the chair across from her. "Misaki."
A heavy silence settled between them. Words hung in the air, unsaid, waiting.
Finally, Misaki spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are we… okay?"
Kaito's fingers tightened around his cup. He wanted to say yes. To brush everything aside and pretend like nothing had happened. But he couldn't.
"I don't know," he admitted, the words feeling heavier than he expected. "Are we?"
Misaki looked away, her grip on her cup tightening. "I never meant to hurt you."
Kaito let out a humorless chuckle. "Then why does it feel like you did?"
She flinched, guilt flashing across her face. "I just… I didn't know how to explain. Everything with Daichi—it's not what you think."
"Then tell me," he said, leaning forward. "Tell me what it is."
Misaki opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her hesitation spoke louder than anything she could have said.
And Kaito felt something inside him break.
"Forget it," he muttered, standing up. "I think I already have my answer."
"Kaito, wait—"
But he was already walking away, his heart pounding in his chest.
And for the first time since meeting her, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—it would be easier to let go.
-
The cold night air bit at Kaito's skin as he walked aimlessly through the quiet streets. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his mind a chaotic storm of emotions he couldn't quite name. Every step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the lingering echoes of Misaki's voice.
"Kaito, wait—"
Her words replayed in his head, but he had kept walking, unable to turn back. Unable to face the painful uncertainty in her eyes. If she had something to say, why didn't she just say it? Why did it feel like she was hiding something? And why did it hurt so much to walk away?
He exhaled sharply, trying to push the thoughts aside. But no matter how much he tried, Misaki's presence lingered like an unshakable ghost in his mind.
---
The following day, Kaito avoided the usual places where he might run into Misaki. He didn't go to the café. He didn't pass by the library. He didn't even wait near her lecture hall like he used to. If she wanted to talk, she would have to find him.
But she didn't.
Not a single message. Not a single call.
It was as if their connection had unraveled entirely, leaving behind only silence.
And the silence was deafening.
---
"Kaito, you're being ridiculous."
Hina's voice was sharp, her arms crossed as she leaned against his doorframe. Kaito barely glanced up from his desk, pretending to be occupied with his notes.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Hina scoffed. "Don't play dumb. You and Misaki. You're both miserable, and it's painful to watch."
Kaito's jaw tightened, his grip on his pen firm. "If she has something to say, she knows where to find me."
Hina sighed, stepping into the room. "And what if she's thinking the same thing? What if she's waiting for you?"
Kaito hesitated, but only for a second. "Then maybe we're better off like this."
The words tasted bitter, but he forced himself to believe them.
Hina studied him for a long moment before shaking her head. "You're both idiots."
Then she left, leaving Kaito alone with the unbearable weight of his own thoughts.
---
Days passed, and the distance between them only grew. Kaito saw Misaki in passing, but they never spoke. The few times their eyes met, she looked away first, and he told himself it didn't bother him.
But it did.
He missed her.
More than he wanted to admit.
---
One evening, as he was walking home, he heard his name.
"Kaito."
He turned, and there she was.
Misaki stood a few steps away, her expression uncertain, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag tightly. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, finally, she took a hesitant step forward. "Can we talk?"
Kaito didn't move. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to close the distance between them and hear whatever it was she had to say.
But he was afraid.
Afraid that whatever came next would only shatter the fragile remnants of what they once had.
And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he could handle that.