The wind carried the scent of jasmine and burnt incense through the empty courtyard, where moments ago, silence had spoken louder than words.
Izumi's confession still echoed in the chambers of my mind—not in the form of words, but through her trembling voice, her tear-lined eyes, and the way she looked at me like I was the answer to a question she'd never dared to ask aloud.
She had chosen me.
Despite everything—the pressure, the broken memories, the fiancé—she had chosen me in that fleeting moment. But the world wouldn't wait.
The next day, I didn't see her at school.
Nor the next.
Her seat was empty during homeroom, and I watched it like a fool, as if staring would somehow summon her back.
Mina noticed.
"Is she okay?" she asked quietly one afternoon, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her notebook. "Izumi, I mean."
I hesitated. "She's… tired."
Mina gave a knowing smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. She always is. But this time feels different."
I didn't respond.
Because Mina was right.
It was different.
Everything had shifted since the festival.
And I was beginning to understand why.
---
It wasn't until the third day that I found her again—by accident, or maybe fate.
The rooftop door was cracked open slightly, the wind whispering secrets through the narrow space. I hesitated before pushing it open and stepping into the sunlight.
She was there.
Alone.
Sitting on the concrete ledge with her back to me, skirt swaying slightly with the wind, her hands folded in her lap. The sky above was washed with gold, the late afternoon sun casting halos over the school buildings below.
I didn't say her name.
Didn't need to.
She turned slowly, as if she already knew I was there.
Her eyes—so often sharp and distant—were soft now. Tired.
"Hey," I said gently, approaching.
She didn't move. "Skipping class again?"
"I could ask you the same."
She smiled faintly, then turned back to the sky.
"I like it up here. It's… quiet. Like the world pauses for a bit."
I sat beside her, careful to keep just enough space between us to not make her uncomfortable. But close enough that I could feel her presence.
She didn't look at me when she said, "He came home yesterday."
My chest tightened.
"The fiancé?"
She nodded once. "Takumi."
His name dropped like a stone in still water.
Izumi's voice was barely a whisper. "He's polite. Obedient. Perfect on paper. He does everything my father asks. Even smiles when he doesn't want to."
"You don't love him," I said.
She didn't answer right away.
But that silence was enough.
"I don't even know if I know what love is anymore," she murmured.
I did something then that surprised both of us.
I reached out and took her hand.
Her fingers stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed into mine.
"You knew once," I said quietly. "And I think… you still do."
She looked at me then, eyes wide and fragile.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "Of hurting him. Of hurting myself. Of choosing wrong."
"You didn't choose wrong," I said.
Her fingers tightened around mine.
And for the first time in days, I saw a glimmer of hope in her expression.
---
The days that followed blurred into a strange rhythm.
Izumi and I walked a delicate line—somewhere between reality and the fragile thing blooming between us. At school, we exchanged glances in the hallways. In quieter moments, we met beneath the sakura tree again, sometimes speaking, sometimes just existing side by side.
And then… came the engagement ceremony.
I wasn't invited, of course.
But I knew about it.
Everyone did.
It was small—just a formality between families, not the real wedding. Still, the thought of her being forced to stand beside him, wearing tradition like chains, made something boil inside me.
I waited that night beneath the sakura tree. The same one we'd made childhood promises under. The same one where her voice had cracked with memory and pain.
I waited, hoping.
But she didn't come.
---
The next morning, she wasn't at school again.
And by afternoon, rumors had spread like wildfire.
"Izumi-san is marrying into the Takagi family."
"It's arranged. Political, you know? Prestige."
"They say she accepted it herself."
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I marched through the school halls toward the student council room.
Empty.
Of course.
Then I remembered.
Takagi.
Her fiancé's family name.
I pulled out my phone, fingers shaking, and searched.
The address wasn't far.
Maybe twenty minutes away by train.
Maybe less if I ran.
I didn't think.
Didn't plan.
I just went.
---
It was nearly sunset when I stood in front of the Takagi estate—an elegant compound with traditional architecture and high stone walls. Lanterns hung from the gate. Inside, laughter and polite conversation floated through the evening air.
I couldn't go in.
I had no right.
No plan.
No invitation.
But my feet moved anyway.
Around the back wall. Through the hedges. Past the koi pond.
Until I saw her.
Through the window.
Wearing a pale lavender kimono, her hair pinned up with silver combs. She looked beautiful. Regal.
But not happy.
Never happy.
Takumi stood beside her, tall and proper, offering practiced smiles to their guests.
Izumi's eyes met mine.
Only for a second.
And in that second—I knew.
She hadn't chosen this.
Not really.
She was suffocating.
And I…
I couldn't let her drown.
---
I left.
Not because I gave up.
But because I needed time.
A way.
Something that could make her father listen. Something that could make her believe it wasn't too late.
I went to the only person who might help.
Kaito.
The student council vice president looked at me like I'd grown another head when I burst into the music room where he was practicing guitar.
"Ryou? You okay, man? You look like you ran through a typhoon."
"I need your help."
He blinked. "Does this involve explosives?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know. It involves Izumi."
He paused.
Then set the guitar aside.
"I'm listening."
---
Together, we made a plan.
Not a good one.
But a plan.
The wedding—small, private, traditional—was set for Saturday morning. Barely two days away.
We wouldn't be able to stop the ceremony through legal means. But maybe… just maybe…
We could steal her back.
"I'll distract the front gate," Kaito said. "You sneak in through the side. I know a guy who can lend us traditional outfits. Blend in."
"You've done this before?"
He smirked. "No. But I've watched a lot of romantic dramas."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," he said. "You better mean it. If you go in there, there's no turning back."
I looked out the window.
At the sakura tree swaying gently.
At the memories we were starting to rebuild.
And I nodded.
"I do."
---
That night, I wrote her a letter.
I left it in her locker.
No names.
Just words.
> You're not alone. If you want out—look for me. I'll be there. I'll always be there. And this time, I won't forget.
— R
---
The day arrived.
Everything moved too fast.
Too slow.
I barely remember the train ride, the wind, the sweat on my palms. I wore a borrowed yukata, plain and unassuming, and clutched the small note in my hand like it might anchor me.
Kaito was already at the estate gate, arguing with a delivery man he'd paid to create a scene. The guards were distracted.
I slipped through the side wall.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might collapse.
But then…
I saw her.
Standing alone in the hallway behind the main room.
Her hands trembled around a folded handkerchief.
She was looking for something.
Someone.
Me.
"Izumi," I whispered.
She turned.
And in that moment—nothing else mattered.
Not her father.
Not the guests.
Not the expectations.
Just her.
And me.
---
"What are you doing here?" she breathed.
"Taking you away," I said.
Her eyes welled with tears.
"But… they'll—"
"I don't care."
"I can't—"
"You can."
I held out my hand.
She stared at it like it was the edge of a cliff.
Then slowly…
She took it.
---
The alarm sounded moments later.
We ran.
Through the hallways.
Past stunned guests.
Into the garden.
Shouts behind us.
Footsteps.
Takumi called her name once—but she didn't turn.
We burst through the back gate and into the city.
Free.
Breathless.
Laughing and crying all at once.
I didn't know where we were going.
Didn't need to.
Because for the first time since we were children…
We were falling again.
Together.
AUTHOR — CrimsonBorN / Step
Twitter / X account: ANC_CrimsonBorN