I think Aoi might hate me now.
Aoi hating Yui was like the sea hating the shore. The idea that one of us could hate another felt like a violation of physics. But I had seen it. I saw Aoi's back, rigid and unforgiving, as she left the classroom without a single glance our way.
My disappearance had been a stone thrown into the calm pond of our lives. Yui had endured the ripples in stoic silence. Aoi, it seemed, had been swept under by the waves.
Let's leave it to me, okay? I had promised Yui. A simple string of words to solve a two-year problem. My confidence was, as usual, a carefully constructed shield.
Aoi's deliberate avoidance, the way her eyes slid past me in the classroom as if I were a ghost made of glass. This wasn't anger. It was a deep-seated fear.
And I am always the cause of fear.
"I need to make a stop," I told Yui as we passed the vending machines near the gym. "You go on ahead, I'll catch up."
She looked at my face, her gaze sharp and knowing. She saw the resolve there and simply nodded, squeezing my hand once before letting go. "Don't be long, idiot."
I watched her walk away before turning to the machine. My fingers hovered over the buttons, bypassing the usual teas and sports drinks until I found it. The small carton with a cheerful, cartoon cow on the front. Strawberry milk. Aoi was convinced it came from a special breed of pink cow, a ridiculous theory she'd clung to since we were seven. It was a stupid, childish memory. It was perfect.
I walked into the classroom to find it mostly empty. Aoi was at her desk in the front row, her head bowed over a book, her hair falling like a dark curtain around her face. She was creating a world where I didn't exist. Time to tear it down.
I approached silently, the chilled carton cold against my palm. I leaned down, bringing my face close to her ear, and gently pressed the flat, cold side of the strawberry milk against her cheek.
She flinched violently, a startled gasp escaping her lips. Her head whipped around, her wide, shocked eyes locking onto mine. For a single, fleeting second, I saw the Aoi I remembered—surprised, flustered, and maybe even a little happy to see me. Then, just as quickly, the walls went back up. Her expression shuttered, becoming a cold, blank mask.
"Is this still your favorite?" I asked softly, my voice low enough that the few remaining students couldn't hear. I set the milk down on her desk, the condensation already forming a small, wet ring. "From the pink cows."
I didn't wait for her answer. I gave the top of her head a light, familiar pat—the way I always had—and turned, walking back to my claimed territory beside Yui's desk. I could feel the whispers ripple through the room, another inexplicable stunt from the transfer student. I ignored them, my gaze finding Yui's across the room. I reached for her hand as soon as I sat down, needing the anchor. She laced her fingers through mine without a word.
Aoi never touched the milk.
After school, the shoe lockers were a chaotic symphony of slamming doors and chatter. Yui and I found Aoi by her locker, methodically trading her indoor slippers for her outdoor shoes, her movements economical and detached.
"Aoi" I said, leaning against the lockers next to hers. Yui stood silently beside me, a united front.
She froze for a single beat, slammed her locker shut, and turned to walk away, her back was unyielding. She was going to ignore us. Pretend we weren't even there.
I glanced at Yui. She gave me a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. Go.
"You know," I said, raising my voice to follow Aoi's retreating form, "I was starting to wonder if I'd become invisible. It's a bit rude for my best friend to keep pretending I'm thin air, don't you think?"
She didn't slow down. If anything, her pace quickened. Fine. Time for a more direct approach.
Yui and I fell into step behind her, maintaining a steady, unthreatening distance. But the pressure of our presence was enough. Aoi's brisk walk accelerated, her shoulders hunched. She was breaking formation, abandoning her usual route home. Her walk broke into a frantic jog. Then, she was running—a desperate, panicked flight away from us, away from the past.
I sighed, looking back at Yui again. "She's really going to make me work for this, isn't she?"
Yui's expression was unreadable, but her voice was firm. "You're the one who said you're a better runner. Go, Jun. I'll catch up."
That was all the permission I needed. Aoi broke into a full sprint, and I followed, my longer legs eating up the distance with an easy, loping stride. The chase was short-lived.
She made it to the small public park near the river before her lungs gave out. I found her leaning against an old oak tree, chest heaving, her head bowed in defeat.
She looked up as I approached, her eyes wide with a cornered, desperate panic. "Leave me... alone," she gasped.
"No," I said, my voice gentle but absolute. "I'm not doing that."
Before she could protest or try to run again, I moved. I threaded one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her off the ground in a single, smooth motion. She was lighter than I remembered.
"Let me go!" she cried, her fists beating weakly against my chest. "Jun, put me down!"
I just looked down at her, meeting her tear-filled gaze. "I'm not letting you go, Aoi. Not this time. Never again."
The fight went out of her instantly. My words, meant to be a promise of security, seemed to be the final blow that shattered her composure. Her struggles ceased. Her body went limp in my arms.
And then she broke.
A raw, agonizing wail tore from her throat, a sound of such profound pain that it physically rocked me. She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder, and began to sob. It wasn't just crying; it was a complete, violent unraveling.
"It's not fair!" she choked out, her words muffled against my tracksuit. "It's not fair... Why did you come back? Why!"
The words hit me with the force of a physical blow. Why did you come back?
"It hurts," she sobbed, her voice cracking with a pain so deep it sounded ancient. "It hurts so much seeing you... seeing you with her. It's better... It would have been better if you just stayed gone!"
My mind went completely blank. She wished I was dead. The thought was a spike of ice through my heart. My arms, which had held her so securely, suddenly felt weak.
"No," she gasped immediately, as if she could hear my thoughts. "No, that's not what I meant! I'm sorry, Jun, I'm so sorry!" She clung to me tighter, her tears soaking my collar. "I'm sorry I gave up on you! I told her to move on! I stopped waiting! I'm so, so sorry!"
She was confessing to a crime I didn't even know she'd been accused of. But beneath the guilt, her first words hung in the air, a different, more painful truth. It hurts seeing you with her.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her face a mess of tears and raw, unfiltered emotion. Her eyes searched mine for... something. Forgiveness? Understanding? Absolution?
Then, she leaned in. It happened too fast for me to react. Her lips, warm and wet with tears, pressed against my cheek. It wasn't a quick, friendly peck. It was a deep, lingering kiss, a desperate, silent confession that held the weight of unspoken years. It was a kiss that had absolutely nothing to do with friendship.
I was still frozen, stunned into silence by the gesture, when I saw Yui approaching. She had just caught up, her breathing slightly labored from her run. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes taking in the scene: me holding a crying Aoi, Aoi's hand still lingering on my neck.
The spell broke. I slowly, gently, lowered Aoi to her feet. She stood unsteadily for a moment, her gaze darting from me to Yui. A fresh wave of shame and horror washed over her face. Wiping furiously at her tears with the back of her hand, she turned and ran again, disappearing down the park path without another word.
I stood there, the warm, damp spot on my cheek feeling like a brand. I finally turned to face Yui, my mind racing, trying to formulate an explanation for something I didn't understand myself.
"So," Yui said, breaking the silence. Her voice was unnervingly calm. She crossed her arms, tilting her head with a small, unreadable smile. "Is this the plan? Start a harem on your first day back? Ambitious."
"No! Yui, it's not— She was upset! I was just—" The words tumbled out, clumsy and panicked.
"I'm joking, baka," she said, the smile finally reaching her eyes. She walked over and tugged on the sleeve of my tracksuit, pulling me away from the park. "Come on. Let's go home."
The train ride home was silent. Not the comfortable silence of the morning, but a thick, charged quiet. I kept trying to explain, and Yui kept giving me one-word answers, her gaze fixed out the window. She was definitely pouting.
"Please stop being mad at me," I pleaded as we walked the final stretch home from the station.
"I'm not mad," she said, her tone making it clear she was, in fact, very mad.
"How can you not be mad?" I asked, my frustration mounting. "What kind of wife just stands there and watches another girl kiss her husband?"
That finally got a reaction. She stopped and whirled on me. "I'm not mad, you idiot! And it was a cheek kiss! Aoi didn't mean it like that, it was a friendship thing! You're reading too much into it!"
I stared at her. She was lying. She knew exactly what that kiss meant. She was protecting Aoi. And maybe, in a weird way, she was protecting me.
I sighed, defeated by her impossible, stubborn heart. Without another word, I stepped forward, scooped her up into my arms, and started walking again.
"Jun! What are you doing? Put me down!" she yelped, her face instantly flushing.
"Nope," I said, adjusting my grip. "I'm not putting you down until you stop being mad at me."
I glanced down and saw it—a tiny, reluctant smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The relief that washed over me was so total it almost made my knees buckle. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"Not there," she pouted, refusing to look at me.
"Eh?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, a silent, frustrated command. Don't make me say it.
I understood. I lowered my head again, and this time, my lips found hers. It was a deep, passionate kiss, a reassertion of my vow, a confirmation of my place. I held her tight, pouring all my confusion and relief and overwhelming love for her into that single, perfect moment.
We continued our walk, her still cradled in my arms.
"Aoi is really important to me," Yui whispered against my chest after a long while. "To us. You have to bring her back, Jun."
I looked down at the top of her head, feeling the immense weight of her trust. "I promise."
I carried her the rest of the way home, my mind a chaotic storm of two conflicting promises. One was warm and secure in my arms. The other was a heartbroken girl who had just kissed me goodbye, and I had no idea how to bring her back.