The end of September brought cooler winds and shifting rhythms.
Midterms were coming, clubs were shifting gears, and the student body began its slow transformation into a collective of sleep-deprived test zombies. But in the narrow spaces between classes, under trees and by vending machines, whispers stirred.
About Rin. About Leo.
And more importantly—about what wasn't being said.
---
Yuki was the first to notice it.
Rin, usually composed and poised, had begun spacing out during lunch. She smiled at the right moments, nodded when spoken to, but her gaze drifted often—toward Leo.
Yuki didn't blame her.
He had changed.
Not in a dramatic, flashy way. He was still quiet. Still awkward with compliments. Still wore that hoodie under his blazer when no one was looking.
But now, he carried something else: a quiet purpose.
Yuki watched him from across the courtyard, sipping melon soda through a straw.
He was sketching something in a notebook.
And Rin was beside him.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Yuki tightened her grip on the drink.
---
Hana noticed too.
During gym, Rin was distracted. During track club, Leo stayed late to stretch her sprained ankle without a word of complaint.
Once, Hana found herself watching them.
She didn't know what bothered her more—the way Rin's eyes softened when she looked at Leo, or the fact that Leo never looked at anyone else that way.
Hana wasn't used to uncertainty. She liked knowing where she stood.
And right now?
She didn't.
---
It came to a head one afternoon in the clubroom.
Literature club had ended early. Yuki, Rin, and Hana were all still inside, pretending to read. Leo had stepped out to return a borrowed anthology.
The silence between the three of them was heavy.
Then Yuki spoke.
"So," she said, flipping a page she hadn't read. "You and Leo."
Rin blinked. "What about us?"
"You're official now, right?"
Rin hesitated. "It's… complicated."
"Is it?" Hana asked from the window seat.
Rin looked between them.
Yuki closed her book. "I like him too, you know."
Rin inhaled. "Yuki…"
"I'm not mad," Yuki said. "I just want it out in the open."
Hana stood. "We've all known it for weeks. You just got to him first."
"That's not fair," Rin said softly. "I didn't plan any of this."
"Neither did we," Yuki replied. "But we felt it too."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Hana walked over.
She looked at Rin directly.
"I don't want a fight. But I won't pretend anymore. If you ever hurt him—"
"I won't."
"Good."
Hana nodded and stepped back.
Yuki sighed. "Love triangles suck."
"Try quadrangles," Rin muttered.
They all laughed—quiet, tired, awkward.
But something had shifted.
The glass was cracked.
And cracks never fully vanish.
---
Leo returned a moment later, oblivious.
He paused at the door, sensing something.
"Did I miss something?"
"Girl talk," Yuki said cheerfully.
Rin smiled faintly. "Nothing serious."
Hana ruffled his hair. "Don't worry. We didn't plan your funeral."
Leo blinked. "That's… reassuring?"
But he didn't press.
And none of them brought it up again.
---
That night, Yuki lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
She thought about Leo's laugh.
His terrible drawing skills.
The way he once gave her his umbrella, then got drenched walking home alone.
She smiled.
Then buried her face in the pillow.
"Stupid Leo."
---
At the same time, Hana was out running laps in the dark.
No music. No distractions.
Just the sound of her heartbeat.
She didn't know what she wanted yet.
But she knew she didn't want to lose.
---
And Rin…
Rin sat by her window, staring at the moon.
For the first time, she wondered:
Could love survive… when it was surrounded on all sides?
She didn't have an answer.
But she hoped Leo would.