---
The night air in Bali felt heavier than it should have.
Haru sat on the edge of the beach, his knees drawn close, bare toes buried in the cool sand. Waves lapped softly at the shore in rhythmic hushes, as though the ocean knew all the secrets no one else would say out loud. Around him, classmates laughed and played by the fire, their voices muffled by distance and Haru's own quiet detachment.
Ren hadn't spoken to him again since earlier. The words "You don't get it" played over and over in his head like a song stuck on loop.
He wanted to understand. He really did.
But how could he, when every time he got close, Ren pulled away like a tide retreating before a storm?
"You're zoning out again."
The voice pulled Haru out of his thoughts. Souta.
Haru looked up and found him crouching nearby, a bottle of orange soda in one hand, his expression unreadable. Souta always had this way of smiling too easily, like he was trying to hide something underneath it. But now, his smile was gone.
"Sorry," Haru muttered.
Souta sat beside him without asking, their shoulders barely touching. "You're not really here, are you? Not with us. Not even with me."
There was no accusation in his voice, but Haru felt the guilt anyway.
"I didn't mean to be distant," he said.
Souta didn't reply right away. He looked out over the water, then back at Haru. "You were talking to him again."
Haru swallowed. "Yeah."
Souta's fingers tightened around the soda bottle. "You never looked at me like that."
That caught Haru off guard. "Like what?"
"Like you're trying to find a part of yourself you lost a long time ago."
Haru had no words.
He looked away, ashamed.
"I'm not mad," Souta said, softer this time. "I just wish I knew how to reach you again."
Haru's heart ached. He didn't want to hurt Souta. They'd been friends since their first year, and Souta had always been steady—a constant in Haru's life when everything else felt chaotic.
"I don't even know what this is between me and Ren," Haru admitted. "It doesn't make sense. It's just… when I'm near him, everything is quiet. And that scares me more than it should."
Souta nodded slowly. "Because he gives you silence. But I've always given you presence. And maybe that wasn't enough."
The words hit too close to home.
Before Haru could reply, a sudden flash of movement near the tree line caught his attention. He turned, spotting Ren standing alone in the dark, away from the bonfire. Not watching the others. Just watching Haru.
Their eyes met.
And something inside Haru cracked.
"I'll be back," he said quickly, rising to his feet.
Souta didn't try to stop him, but the sadness in his gaze lingered long after Haru turned away.
---
Ren didn't move when Haru approached.
The night felt quieter here, where the shadows of palm trees stretched long across the sand.
"You said we'd talk later," Haru said. "It's later now."
Ren turned toward him, his expression unreadable. "You should be with him."
"Souta?"
Ren gave a small nod.
Haru crossed his arms. "Why do you keep pushing me toward him?"
"Because he can give you a future I can't."
"That's not your decision."
"It's not just a decision. It's reality."
Haru took a breath, stepping closer. "Then tell me the truth. Stop dancing around it. What are you hiding from me?"
Ren looked at him then—not just looked, but truly saw him. The wall he usually kept so tightly built around himself wavered, just for a moment.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ren whispered.
"Try me."
Ren hesitated. Then, in a voice barely audible: "I'm not like you. I wasn't born here. I wasn't meant to stay. That silence you feel when you're with me—it's because there's nothing inside for you to hear. Because I'm not… I'm not complete. Not like everyone else."
Haru's breath caught. "What do you mean you're not complete?"
Ren looked away, pain flickering in his features. "There's something missing. A part of me that got lost before I even came into this world. I'm only a half. And the other half is the reason I can't stay near people too long. They start to sense it—that emptiness. They feel it like a chill. Like a warning."
Haru's chest tightened. "But I don't feel that. Not with you."
Ren looked at him then, something desperate and raw in his eyes. "That's what scares me."
A silence fell between them—thick, charged, aching.
Finally, Haru spoke. "If you're only a half, maybe that's why I keep being pulled toward you. Maybe I've been missing something too."
Ren stepped back like he'd been struck. "Don't say that."
"Why not?"
"Because if you believe that—if you believe I'm your missing piece—then you'll end up just as broken as I am."
Haru reached out, his fingers brushing Ren's arm. "Maybe we're not supposed to be whole on our own."
Ren stared at his hand, trembling slightly.
And for a breathless moment, it felt like something in the universe shifted.
But then—
"Ren!" a voice called out.
Souta.
Ren pulled away.
Haru turned to see Souta standing a few feet away, expression dark, fists clenched. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Ren replied coldly.
Souta stepped forward, placing himself between them. "You're messing with him. I don't know what your deal is, but he doesn't need this. He doesn't need you."
"That's not your call," Haru snapped, his voice sharper than he meant.
Souta looked stunned.
Ren watched the two of them quietly, his eyes dimming.
"I should go," he said softly, turning away.
"No," Haru said quickly, but Ren was already walking.
Gone, again.
Just like that.
---
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Haru couldn't sleep. He lay in the hotel room bed, staring at the ceiling, Souta's steady breathing from the other bed like a metronome.
Was this what falling felt like?
Not in love—but into something uncertain. A void that felt both terrifying and inevitable.
He closed his eyes.
And in the dark, he heard nothing but silence.
The kind that only Ren ever gave him.
To be continued...
***