The rooftop was quiet again.
But not empty.
Leo sat alone, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, watching the distant lights of the city flicker through the light haze of dusk. A breeze passed by and brushed his hair back, cool but gentle. The kind of wind that didn't sting—just reminded you that something was shifting.
Footsteps.
He turned.
Rin stood behind him, her silhouette framed by the stairwell door.
She wore a gray cardigan over her uniform blouse, sleeves pulled over her hands. Her hair was down.
Leo stood slowly.
"You heard," he said.
She nodded. "Yuki told me."
Pause.
"I wanted to hear it from you."
Leo gestured to the spot beside him. She hesitated, then walked over and sat, keeping a few inches of space.
The silence between them wasn't heavy this time. Just… expectant.
"I told them I didn't want to go," Leo said. "I don't know if they'll listen. But I tried."
Rin looked at the city too. "That's brave."
"It doesn't feel like it."
"You used to avoid eye contact," she said softly. "Now you look people in the eyes when you talk. That's growth."
Leo smiled faintly. "Only with you."
That made her blink.
He continued. "You're the first person who made me feel like I could breathe here. Like I didn't have to pretend."
"I didn't do anything special," she whispered.
"You didn't need to."
The breeze shifted again, carrying the scent of nearby sakura trees. Late bloomers, clinging to spring.
"I used to think quiet was the safest place to hide," Rin said. "Because if you didn't speak, you couldn't be misunderstood. Couldn't be rejected. But lately…"
She turned to face him.
"…Lately I feel like silence isn't safety. It's distance. And I don't want distance from you."
Leo's chest tightened.
"Rin—"
She reached into her pocket and pulled something out.
The letter.
The one he gave her weeks ago.
"I re-read this yesterday," she said. "And I realized something."
"What?"
"You wrote about noticing me. About appreciating me. About caring."
She looked into his eyes.
"But you never said why."
Leo swallowed.
"And I want to hear it. Not written. Not implied. I want to know what you feel now, not what you felt then."
He took a deep breath.
"I'm scared," he said. "Because I care about all of you. And I hate the idea of hurting any of you."
Rin didn't flinch.
"But," he continued, "when I think about the future… about staying here, about facing whatever comes next… you're the first person who comes to mind."
Her breath caught.
"Not because you're the easiest," Leo said. "You're not. You make me think. You make me slow down. You challenge me to be honest. Even when it's hard."
He met her eyes.
"I like you, Rin. Not because you were there first. But because when I picture myself not seeing you every day… it hurts."
Rin blinked quickly.
"…That's why," he said.
A long pause.
Then, she nodded.
"Thank you."
Silence again.
Then Rin leaned her head against his shoulder.
"I don't need a label," she said. "Just… don't disappear."
Leo closed his eyes.
"I won't."
---
They sat together until the stars came out.
No more distance.
No more silence.
Just two people on a rooftop.
And for now, that was enough.