The hall glowed under strands of dim golden light, the kind meant to make ordinary people feel beautiful. The Christmas party had moved into its second night this time, a more "official" gathering at the school hall. Teachers smiled, students twirled, music filled every corner like perfume that couldn't be escaped.
I stood near the window, arms folded, watching the spinning bodies on the floor. Laughter, dresses, shoes scuffing polished wood it all looked so normal. Almost peaceful.
Miyuki stood near the refreshment table, her silver hair catching the light like frost. She wore a soft blue dress, simple, elegant, and painfully familiar. I remembered helping her choose something similar last year. Before everything.
Our eyes met for a brief moment. She looked away first.
Then Yui appeared beside me, holding two cups of punch. "You're not dancing again?" she asked, offering one.
I took it, not drinking. "I don't dance."
"Right. You just stare at everyone else like you're planning a coup," she teased lightly.
I smiled faintly. "Observation's safer than participation."
She studied me a moment longer. "You've changed, Haruto. You used to look nervous in crowds. Now you look… composed. Like you know something no one else does."
"Maybe I do," I said, voice quiet.
Yui frowned, unsure if I was joking, but before she could ask, the music slowed. The DJ called out cheerfully, "Alright, everyone! Grab a partner for the next song! Something slow to close the night properly!"
A ripple of laughter spread through the room. Students paired off, hands found hands, and the lights dimmed slightly.
Miyuki stood alone, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, hesitating. Souta was across the room talking to the soccer club boys, but when he noticed her standing by herself, his eyes lit up. He started walking toward her.
I didn't think. My legs were already moving.
"Hey," I said when I reached her.
She blinked, startled. "Haruto?"
I extended a hand. "Dance with me."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You… want to dance?"
"Why not?"
She hesitated, glancing toward Souta he was halfway across the room now, watching us. I could see the irritation already curling in his expression.
Finally, Miyuki nodded, placing her hand in mine. "Okay."
The song began a soft piano melody. The world seemed to narrow to the space between us. Her fingers were light, her eyes uncertain.
We moved slowly. My steps were careful, deliberate. She kept glancing down, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I didn't think you'd ask," she said.
"Neither did I."
"Why now?"
I looked at her not the same way I used to. There was no warmth left in that gaze, only quiet calculation. "Maybe I wanted to remind you of something."
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
The song carried us in slow circles. For a brief second, I could almost pretend things hadn't broken between us. Her perfume, her voice, the way her fingers tensed every time our hands brushed it was all still there.
"You're different, Haruto," she murmured. "Colder. But… there's something else."
"Focus on the dance," I said gently.
Around us, laughter faded into murmurs. Souta stood by the edge of the crowd, watching. His jaw was tight, his fists flexing by his side.
Miyuki followed my eyes, then whispered, "He's"
"I see him."
When the song began to fade, I loosened my grip slightly, ready to step back. But Souta moved first.
He cut through the crowd, forcing smiles as people turned to make way. "Miyuki!" he called, too brightly. "My turn, yeah?"
Miyuki stiffened. "Souta, maybe"
He didn't wait. He stepped between us, extending his hand. "Come on. You've already danced with him."
I placed a hand on his shoulder before he could touch her. "She doesn't want to," I said evenly.
Souta turned his head slowly, the smile still frozen on his face. "You think you can decide that for her?"
"I don't need to," I replied. "You can read her expression just fine."
Miyuki's voice trembled. "Souta, please. It's not"
But he grabbed her wrist. Not roughly, but with that same arrogant confidence that had always made me hate him. "Come on, Miyuki. One dance won't"
My fist moved before my thoughts caught up.
The impact landed square in his stomach the sound dull, sharp, and final. Souta's breath left him in a single choked gasp. He doubled over and crumpled to the floor.
The music stopped. Conversations died mid-word. Every pair of eyes turned toward us.
"Haruto!" Yui's voice cut through the silence.
I stood there, hand still clenched, my heartbeat steady. Souta groaned, clutching his abdomen, his perfect composure shattered.
Miyuki gasped. "Haruto what are you doing!?"
I didn't answer. I took a slow step forward. Souta looked up, fury replacing pain. "You… you bastard"
But when his eyes met mine, the words died.
Because I wasn't angry. I wasn't shouting. I wasn't even breathing hard. I was smiling. Calm. Cold. The kind of smile that makes people unsure if they're safe anymore.
My mind slipped not out of control, but into memory.
The night he'd punched me.
The night he'd stood outside my home, laughing while Miyuki looked away.
The night my mother had stepped between us, and he'd smirked, calling it an accident.
The sound of her soft voice, trembling: "It's okay, boys, stop…"
The humiliation. The helplessness. The laughter afterward.
It all came back, clear as glass.
I stared down at him now him gasping, small, human.
"Funny," I said softly, "you don't look so proud now."
"Haruto, stop it!" Miyuki cried, grabbing my arm.
I turned my head toward her slowly. "Why? I thought he was the one you chose."
Her eyes widened, glistening. "That's not"
"I'm calm," I interrupted quietly. "See? I'm not even angry."
My tone made Yui take a step forward, uncertain. "Haruto… that's enough, okay? Everyone's watching."
I looked around. They were all of them frozen in silence, the music teacher halfway to the DJ booth, Kenji standing by the drinks table, his mouth open.
The air in the hall felt colder now.
Souta tried to stand, glaring. "You think hitting me changes anything?"
I tilted my head. "No. But it helps me see things clearly."
He spat on the floor. "You've lost it."
"Maybe," I said. "But at least I didn't lose what was mine."
He froze, eyes flicking to Miyuki. She flinched.
That's when I smiled not out of joy, but quiet victory. "You can't take what belongs to me, Souta. You tried, and you failed."
The crowd murmured. Miyuki's face turned pale. "Haruto, stop saying things like that…"
I looked at her, my expression softening just enough. "Then come with me."
"W-What?"
"Come," I said simply, reaching for her hand.
She hesitated, then took it maybe out of fear, maybe confusion. Her skin was cold in mine. I turned toward the exit, ignoring the whispers behind us.
Souta shouted after me, voice hoarse, "You think this is over!?"
I didn't look back. "It's only beginning."
The door shut behind us. The music didn't resume.
We walked down the empty corridor the sound of our footsteps echoing off the walls. Miyuki's voice finally broke the silence. "Haruto, why did you why now?"
I stopped near the stairwell. The light from the hallway flickered faintly over us.
"Because I'm tired of watching him touch what isn't his."
Her lips parted. "You're scaring me."
"Good," I said. "Fear means you still understand the difference between right and wrong."
She shook her head, tears forming. "You've changed. This isn't you."
"Maybe not," I admitted. "But you helped build this version of me."
She tried to step back, but I caught her hand again not roughly, just firmly. "Haruto…"
"Look at me," I said softly.
She did. Her eyes trembled.
For a moment, I saw the girl I used to love the one who laughed under cherry blossoms, the one who held my hand when no one else did. And maybe that memory was what made me lean in.
The kiss was brief. Gentle, but heavy the kind of kiss that felt more like an ending than a beginning. She didn't resist. Maybe she couldn't.
When I pulled away, her eyes were wide, uncertain, breathing shallow.
"Why…?" she whispered.
I smiled faintly. "Because it's the last time I'll give you anything freely."
Then I let go of her hand and stepped back. "Go home, Miyuki."
She stared at me like she didn't understand. "Haruto"
"Go," I said again, voice firm.
After a long pause, she turned and walked away slowly, almost stumbling. Her figure disappeared down the corridor.
I leaned against the wall, exhaling. My knuckles still ached faintly, the pain grounding me. Through the windows, snow began to fall soft, thin flakes against the night.
Inside the hall, the music had started again, but it sounded distant. Hollow.
I looked down at my reflection in the glass calm eyes, faint smile, steady breath.
"I warned you, Souta," I whispered. "You can't take what's already broken."
Outside, the snow thickened, erasing footprints one by one.
And for the first time, I felt something close to peace dark, bitter, but real.