"Let's go somewhere more private."
Tachibana said it quietly, like she had already made up her mind. I nodded and followed without asking where.
The festival sounds faded as we climbed the stairwell. Each step higher stripped away the noise until all I could hear was our breathing and the distant echo of laughter below. When I pushed the rooftop door open, cold air rushed past us, sharp and sudden.
The night felt bigger up here.
The city lights spread beneath us, and above, the stars looked scattered and careless, like they had nothing to do with us at all.
Tachibana walked ahead and stopped at the railing. She rested her hands on it, shoulders squared, back straight. The wind lifted her hair gently, but she didn't move to fix it.
I stayed a few steps behind her, unsure if I was supposed to stand closer.
The silence stretched long enough to make me uncomfortable.
"Your performance," I said finally. "It was incredible."
"…Thanks," she replied, brisk, almost like it didn't reach her. She didn't turn around.
I swallowed. Something about the way she was standing felt different. Like she was bracing herself.
"Yuuto," she said after a moment.
"Takahashi," she corrected softly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah," I said, a little too fast.
"When you look at me… what do you see?"
The question caught me off guard. I stared at her back, searching for the right words.
"I see you," I said. "Someone strong. Someone who keeps moving forward."
It sounded right. Honest.
But her shoulders tensed, just slightly.
"That's all?" she asked.
The pause before I answered stretched longer than I meant it to.
"I—" I started, then stopped. I couldn't figure out what else she wanted from me. The words slipped away before I could grab them.
Tachibana looked away. "Never mind."
The way she said it made my chest tighten.
She took a breath. "Did you really change… because of me?"
I hesitated.
"I did," I said. "At first, it was you. Watching you made me want to be better. Someone who could stand beside you."
The wind picked up, cold against my face.
"But now," I continued, "I'm doing it for myself too. I don't want to hide anymore."
I meant it. I really did.
Tachibana didn't answer.
She turned and started walking toward the door.
For a second, I thought I should stop her. Then I thought maybe she just needed time. She'd always been like that—quiet when things mattered most.
She reached the door and stopped.
Her hand rested on the handle, unmoving.
I took a step forward, then froze.
If I say the wrong thing now, I thought, I might ruin everything.
She turned her head slightly.
The rooftop light caught her face, and I saw her eyes shining.
At first, I thought it was just the light.
Then I saw it—a tear slipping down her cheek.
My breath caught.
She didn't wipe it away. She didn't look embarrassed. She just stood there, still, like she was waiting for something.
My mind went blank.
Did I hurt her?Was I supposed to say something else?
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
The moment stretched unbearably thin.
Then her shoulders lowered, like something inside her had finally let go.
She opened the door and stepped through.
Click.
The sound echoed across the rooftop.
I stood there, staring at the closed door, the cold finally sinking into my skin.
The stars above looked the same as they always had.
But something inside my chest felt wrong—unfinished, like I had missed something important and wouldn't understand what it was until it was too late.
I stayed there for a long time, wondering why the night suddenly felt so empty.