Rina had always believed that love could survive misunderstandings — if only people talked.But lately, she wasn't sure anymore.
It started small.A text left on "seen."A smile that didn't reach the eyes.And always, always, her — Hana, his childhood best friend.
Rina didn't hate her. Not at first. Hana was cheerful, clingy in a harmless way, the kind of girl who called him "Ren-chan" with that nostalgic tone that only long history could justify. Rina told herself not to be jealous. She'd seen enough dramas to know how they ended.
But reality isn't a drama — in dramas, at least someone explains things.
The first misunderstanding came when Hana showed up crying after talking with Rina at the café.
Rina had only said, "You seem tired. Maybe you should rest instead of always tagging along when Ren's with me."
It wasn't harsh. It was concern.
But an hour later, Ren came storming to her apartment, jaw tight."What did you say to her?"
Rina blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"She came to me crying. She said you—never mind." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You could've just told me you didn't like her."
Rina froze."I don't dislike her. I just wanted her to rest. She looked pale."
Ren didn't respond. Just that silence — that terrible, doubting silence — before he muttered,"I'll go check on her."
Days passed like that.
Every time Rina tried to speak, something else would happen — a rumor, a tearful look, an awkward scene with Hana "accidentally" overhearing things.Rina started to realize that explanations meant nothing if no one wanted to believe you.
She tried to smile when Ren and Hana laughed at inside jokes she couldn't understand.She tried to ignore it when Hana clung to his sleeve at the summer festival.She tried to believe that Ren was just kind, just nostalgic.
But then came the last straw.
At Ren's birthday party, Rina brought him a handmade photo album — moments of their time together. When she went to hand it to him, Hana was already there, hugging him tightly, whispering something that made his expression soften.When Rina approached, Hana flinched back and tears welled in her eyes.
"Rina… I didn't mean to cause trouble," Hana whispered."What—?" Rina began, confused.
But before she could finish, Ren stepped in front of Hana, his voice low but sharp."That's enough."
The room went silent.All their friends looked at her — the jealous girlfriend, the mean one.Rina's hand trembled, the album slipping from her fingers.
"…Alright," she whispered, forcing a smile. "Enough."
And she walked away.
Weeks passed.Ren tried to call. She didn't answer.He texted long paragraphs — "Let's talk," "You don't understand," "It's not what you think."
But she had already spent too many nights waiting for those words to come before it was too late.
She packed the album into a box and left it at his doorstep. No note, no goodbye.
Months later, he found out the truth — that Hana's tears that day weren't from Rina's cruelty.She had been crying because she felt guilty. Guilty that she had let things go too far, that her affection for Ren blurred the line between friendship and possessiveness.She had wanted to apologize, but when Rina smiled and said, "It's okay, I get it," she'd broken down, and Ren had arrived at the worst moment possible.
Hana confessed it all to him in tears. "She never said anything bad to me… I just—didn't want to lose you."
Ren sat there, hollow. Because he'd already lost someone.
When he finally saw Rina again, it was by coincidence — at a bookstore, sunlight spilling through glass, her smile calm and distant.
"Ren," she said softly, as if his name were a memory.
"I know the truth now," he began, voice shaking. "Hana told me everything. You—"
Rina smiled. Not bitterly. Not kindly. Just peacefully.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"Rina—"
She shook her head."I kept waiting for you to ask me before you believed anyone else. But maybe that's just… not who we were meant to be."
And with that, she turned away — leaving him with the sound of pages turning, and the memory of a girl who finally stopped explaining.