The apartment felt quiet after everything that had happened.
Honoka slept soundly, fever easing, one tiny hand resting on Panda-san. Yukino stood by the doorway, heart still shaking from Ken's story and the warmth of his embrace.
Ken stood near the door, coat on his arm. His eyes looked calm again, but there was something fragile there now. The redness around them betrayed sleepless nights and pain carried alone.
"Let Honoka-chan rest tomorrow," he said softly. His voice was warm, worn. "She should stay home. She needs it."
Yukino nodded, worry still clouding her expression.
"You should rest too," he added, offering a faint smile that trembled at the edges. "You look exhausted."
"I could say the same about you," she whispered.
He breathed out a small laugh, adjusting his bag. "I will. I think I earned a day off."
She tried to smile back, but the exhaustion in his face made her chest ache.
He turned the handle. Silence stretched. He spoke quietly.
"Thank you… for tonight."
Yukino could only nod. Her voice was barely a breath. "Get home safe, Ken-san."
He stepped into the hall. A moment later, rain began again. Soft at first, then heavier.
Yukino found herself at the window, watching him through the glass as he walked into the rain. The streetlight cast a long shadow behind him, and drops ran over his black hair. He had no umbrella.
Her chest tightened painfully. From up here, he looked so small. So alone, despite everything he tried to hide.
She thought of him breaking down just hours ago. Tears returned to her eyes before she could stop them.
Without thinking, she grabbed her umbrella, slipped into her shoes, and ran.
"Ken-san!"
Her voice echoed down the hallway.
By the time she reached the street, rain poured down in sheets of silver. She spotted him near the crossing, walking slowly, shoulders soaked.
"Ken-san!" she called again, running through puddles, breath uneven, umbrella trembling in her hand.
He turned, startled. His hair clung to his forehead, shirt dark with rain.
She reached him, breath shaking. "At least… do not forget an umbrella next time. You will get sick."
Ken blinked, staring at her through the rain. When he spoke, it was quiet, surprised.
"Yukino-san… you did not have to come."
"I did have to." Her voice wavered. Tears mixed with rain on her cheeks. "You never take care of yourself. How can you tell us to rest when you look like this"
He stared at her. Rain filled the silence between them. Then he smiled. Soft. Warm. Too gentle.
He stepped closer, leaning slightly under her umbrella, shoulders brushing hers.
"I will be fine," he said. His voice lowered, tender. "Besides… I have you and Honoka to look after me now, don't I"
Yukino froze. Tears welled up again.
"You cannot just say things like that…" she whispered, voice shaking, face red. "It is not fair."
Ken's expression softened. Just a hint of playful warmth. "You are crying again."
"I am not crying," she insisted weakly, rubbing her eyes. "It is just… the rain."
Ken's quiet laugh felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. "Right. The rain."
They stood together under the umbrella, the city blurring around them. Neon lights rippled across wet pavement. Cars rushed past in streaks of color. The world softened, leaving only them.
As the rain eased, Ken glanced toward the station.
"I should go."
Yukino nodded, unable to speak. Her fingers tightened around the umbrella handle.
As he turned, she whispered, "Do not disappear again. Please."
He paused. Looked back. A small, gentle smile.
"I will not. Not this time."
Then he walked toward the lights, slowly fading into the city glow.
Yukino stood there, umbrella trembling in her hand, rain tapping softly around her. She looked up, tears and raindrops blending.
Somewhere deep inside, she knew.
This was no longer simple kindness. No longer just care.
It was love. Quiet. Scared. Real.
Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling like her heartbeat.
"Thank you… for coming into our lives, Ken-san."