Yui, without a word, reached for a pan.
Masaru sensed danger too late.
Smack.
"Ow—!" He jumped, holding his backside. "What was that for?!"
Yui glared, brandishing the pan like a weapon. "For fluttering a married woman's heart, you sinner!"
Masaru staggered back, laughing, dodging the next swing. "W–wait, hear me out—"
Smack.
"You're unbelievable!" she shouted, chasing him around the table. "Mrs. Yamada, Masaru? Really?! You're going to ruin someone's marriage!"
Masaru darted left, narrowly avoiding another swing. "Stop being so dramatic! It's not what you think!"
"Then what is it?!" Yui cornered him, fire in her eyes. "You made breakfast that tasted like happiness! That's far than impossible!"
Masaru snatched the pan midair, holding it between them like a peace treaty. "You'll be late for your competition," he said flatly. "We'll continue after school."
Yui scowled, then threw him a glare that could melt iron. "Fine," she muttered, stomping away toward her room. "But this isn't over!"
Masaru sighed in relief the moment her door shut. "That girl…" he muttered under his breath, rubbing his sore backside. "Violent."
By the time Yui reached school, the campus buzzed with excitement. The cultural festival competition was in full swing — colors, fabric, laughter echoing through the halls. The air smelled faintly of makeup powder and perfume.
Yui went straight to the dressing room, slipping into her costume — a flowing off-white dress with soft layers that glimmered faintly under the lights. She fixed her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, then turned to find—
No Riku.
No Yuki.
"Has anyone seen Riku?" she asked a few classmates.
Everyone shook their heads.
The teacher entered before she could look again. "Yuki and Riku are not present today," she said, her tone slightly hurried. "So, Yui, you'll have to dance with Haruto instead."
Yui froze. "Wait, what—?"
Before she could object, Haruto walked in, black shirt unbuttoned just enough to expose his collarbone, his expression unreadable. When his gaze landed on her, it softened — only for a moment.
The teacher clasped her hands. "You two are our final act. Make sure you bring the hall down."
Yui opened her mouth, "But—"
"Okay," Haruto said quietly, stepping closer. "I won't mind."
Something in his tone — deep, calm, unyielding — made her stop arguing. She swallowed and nodded silently.
As the teacher left, Haruto pulled out his phone and typed something.
A message popped up on Riku's screen elsewhere.
"Giving me the opportunity to dance with her? You really are generous, brother."
He slipped the phone into his pocket, expression unreadable. But in his chest — something burned, sharp and desperate.
Just one day.
That's all he wanted.
The lights dimmed.
The curtain rose.
Music — slow, haunting, almost like a heartbeat — filled the auditorium. The crowd hushed, drawn instantly toward the stage.
Yui stood in the spotlight, her breath trembling, her silhouette painted in gold. Haruto walked from the opposite side, shadows trailing behind him. Their eyes met in the middle.
Every second between them stretched, pulled, bent like fragile glass.
Then — the dance began.
Their bodies moved in perfect synchrony, even though they hadn't practiced this version together. Haruto's hand brushed against hers, guiding her effortlessly into a spin. The fabric of her dress flowed like liquid light as she turned, her heartbeat syncing to the rhythm.
He caught her waist just before she lost balance, the closeness making the air between them hum.
Yui's breath caught. "You—"
Haruto leaned closer, voice a whisper against her ear. "Your face says you want to ask me something."
Her pulse skipped. She met his eyes, their depth too calm, too unreadable. "Even if I ask," she whispered back, "you might not answer me."
A faint smirk curved his lips. "Then keep guessing. I like seeing you try."
The audience watched, mesmerized — none of them knowing that every step, every spin, was a conversation.
When she turned away, he followed; when she hesitated, his hand found her again — steady, firm, guiding her back to rhythm. He never let her fall.
Their movements blurred between elegance and tension — her arms reaching out, his pulling her back; his hand brushing down her spine, hers resting against his chest.
And with each turn, his gaze spoke louder than words — stay, just one more second, one more breath, one more day.
The tempo quickened, and so did her heartbeat. Their eyes locked again — the music swelling, lights flickering like stars.
For one fleeting moment, the world shrank to just them — no audience, no students dancing along, no music, no air — only the echo of what they couldn't say.
Yui's steps faltered. Her heel slipped slightly against the polished floor. Gasps echoed through the hall. But Haruto's hand was already there, catching her wrist, pulling her back with flawless grace. The spin that could have been a stumble turned into a breathtaking recovery.
The crowd exhaled in awe.
Yui's eyes widened, her heart in her throat. His hand still held hers, their fingers trembling from the impact.
His voice was low, intimate. "Don't look down. You'll lose balance."
She nodded faintly, unable to look away from him. His breath brushed her cheek. She could smell the faint cologne that always reminded her of rain.
As the final note of the song echoed through the hall, Haruto's hand slid to her waist again. He twirled her softly one last time — and when she came to a stop, his forehead brushed hers.
The lights dimmed.
Applause roared.
But neither of them moved. Not yet.
Yui's lips parted, words trembling at the edge. "Can I talk with you for a second?"
Haruto's eyes softened for a heartbeat — then he smiled that quiet, haunting smile that always left her guessing.
"At the rooftop," he whispered, "during the lunch break."
Before she could ask, the curtain closed. The applause faded. He released her hand first, stepping back as if the space between them had to be rebuilt again.
Yui exhaled, her chest tight. "Haruto—"
He looked away. "You should change. You did well."
And then he walked offstage.
—
Few Hours ago
Across town, earlier that morning — before the dance, before the lights
Haruto had woken before sunrise. The air was still gray, the kind of quiet that carried weight. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his phone — the unread text from Yui glowing softly.
"What do you mean by just one day?"
His fingers lingered on the screen. He didn't reply. Instead, he tossed away his phone to the other side of the bed, as he sulked again.
Today was his last day in Japan before flying to London. Distance from her, from everything that made his pulse unpredictable.
He stood, straightened his shirt, and made a call. "Yuki, meet me in front of your house."
Yuki's voice was sweet as ever. "You're early today, Haruto."
When he arrived, she was already waiting — smiling, waving eagerly. She slid into the car, cheerful. "You're wearing a mask."
Haruto fixed his mask, "You are looking beautiful."
"So, what's the surprise plan today? I am waiting eagerly for our ance performance."
Haruto didn't answer. His gaze was fixed ahead, his jaw tight.
After a few minutes, Yuki's eyelids grew heavy. The faint scent from the car's air freshener — laced with something subtle — filled the air.
Her words slurred. "Haruto…? What's this smell…"
He didn't look at her. "Sleep," he murmured.
Her head tilted, her voice fading. "You…"
By the time the car turned toward the outskirts of the city, Yuki's body was already motionless, breathing even, unconscious.
Haruto exhaled slowly, eyes still cold.
"Drive," he ordered.
A man appeared from the backseat, as he sat in front, while Haruto shifted at the back. Then the driver steers the car toward the designated place.
Haruto stepped out halfway, fixing his tie. The wind brushed against his hair as he glanced at his watch.
"I'll head to school," he said quietly. "Take her where I told you."
"Yes, sir."
As the car disappeared from sight, Haruto turned toward the horizon — sunlight spilling across the streets, the same direction where Yui would soon be getting ready for the competition.
His eyes softened.
"For one day," he murmured, "you'll dance with me, Yui. After that… I'll disappear."