The art room smelled like paint and old wood, the familiar scent settling in Aika's lungs as she sat by the open window. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun spilled into the room, casting long shadows that danced across the wooden floor. Outside, the distant hum of students chatting and sports teams practicing in the courtyard filled the air. It was peaceful. Normally, this was her favorite time of day—when everything slowed down, and she could lose herself in the quiet rhythm of her pencil against the page.
But today, her mind was elsewhere.
Riku was late.
Her fingers idly tapped the edge of her sketchbook as she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes. He had promised to meet her after class. Not that he was ever the most punctual person, but this was different.
He's been doing this a lot lately…
She exhaled, forcing herself to focus on her drawing. The old temple she was sketching was one she had visited as a child, hidden deep within the mountains near her grandparents' home. The worn stone steps, the wooden gates weathered by time, the way the trees framed the entrance like a scene from a forgotten dream—she wanted to capture it all.
But no matter how much she tried, her lines felt off. Unfocused.
The sound of the door sliding open broke her from her thoughts.
"Yo."
She turned to see Riku stroll in, his usual lazy grin in place, as if he hadn't just kept her waiting.
Aika narrowed her eyes. "You're late."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Something came up."
Her fingers tightened around her pencil. There it is again. That vague, casual excuse. Normally, Riku would come up with something absurd, some ridiculous story that made her roll her eyes. But this time, he just left it at that.
She studied him carefully.
His uniform was slightly disheveled, the first few buttons undone like he had rushed here. His hair looked a little damp at the edges, like he had just washed his face. And his breathing—faintly uneven.
"…What 'something'?" she pressed.
He blinked at her, just for a moment, before letting out a laugh. "Wow. Didn't know you cared so much."
Aika frowned. "I don't. It's just weird."
He shrugged and flopped into the chair beside her, peering at her sketchbook like nothing had happened.
"Ooh, nice. This a real place?"
She hesitated before answering. "…Yeah. An old temple near my grandparents' house."
"Looks peaceful."
"It is."
For a while, silence settled between them, filled only by the faint scratch of her pencil against the paper. She focused on shading the temple's stone steps, but her mind kept drifting—back to the way Riku had hesitated when he answered, back to the way his usual effortless energy felt just a little too forced.
Finally, without looking up, she spoke.
"You've been disappearing a lot lately."
Riku chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Are you keeping tabs on me now? Didn't know you cared."
Aika rolled her eyes. "I don't. It's just weird."
"I've always been mysterious, Aika. It's part of my charm."
She gave him a flat look. "That's not what I'd call it."
He grinned, but she noticed the way his fingers twitched slightly before he rested his hand on his knee.
Her chest tightened.
She wanted to ask—wanted to push past the vague answers, past the easy smiles. But Riku wasn't the type to admit anything, not unless he wanted to.
And she wasn't sure she was ready to hear it.
So instead, she let the conversation drop, turning back to her sketchbook as Riku leaned back against the chair, humming a quiet tune under his breath.
Even as the room settled into a comfortable silence, the unease inside her refused to fade.