We arrived at the café, and as soon as the bike came to a halt, I swung my leg over and stepped onto the pavement. The air was thick with the scent of brewing coffee and the distant hum of the city settling into the night.
"Will you walk from here or take a rickshaw?" Nami asked, her voice light but laced with concern.
I glanced around. The streetlights flickered, casting long shadows on the pavement. The evening had deepened into a quiet, uncertain darkness.
"It's late... I'll take a rickshaw," I said, my eyes scanning the empty road ahead.
Nami nodded, adjusting her helmet. "Alright then, I'm heading off." She revved the engine, the sound cutting through the silence.
"Take care," I called after her.
She looked back briefly, her expression softening. "You too. And text me when you reach home," she said before riding away, her taillight glowing red as she disappeared down the road.
I watched until she was completely out of sight, a faint smile lingering on my lips. Thank God I have a friend like her.
Slipping my hands into my jeans pockets, I shifted my weight, waiting for a rickshaw. The night stretched on, quiet and still. A single streetlamp buzzed above me, flickering weakly. Absentmindedly, I nudged a small stone with the tip of my shoe, watching as it skittered across the pavement.
And then—
A sudden touch. A light tap on my shoulder.
I stiffened, my breath hitching.
Slowly, I turned.
And there he was. Rei.
The streetlights cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the sharp edges of his face. His dark eyes held the same quiet intensity I once knew so well. He smiled—not wide, not forced, but the same familiar curve of lips that had once made my heart skip a beat.
"How have you been?" he asked, his voice smooth, unshaken.
A lump formed in my throat. For a brief second, a memory flickered—laughter, stolen glances, whispered promises now lost to time.
Why am I like this? The thought came unbidden. Why did I hurt him?
"I'm fine," I answered, forcing a casual tone. I looked away, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag. "And you?"
"Same as always," he said, watching me carefully.
A pause stretched between us, heavy with everything left unsaid.
"Are you heading home?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah."
His gaze flickered toward the empty street. "Alone? At this hour?"
I hesitated before responding. "I was at a group study session. It got late."
Something shifted in his expression. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before speaking again. "If you don't mind..." He stopped, as if reconsidering his words. Then, meeting my gaze, he asked, "Should I walk with you?"
My breath caught.
Why is he doing this? Why is he making things difficult for me?
"That's not necessary. I can go alone," I said, my voice coming out steadier than I felt.
His jaw tightened slightly. "I won't feel comfortable letting you walk alone," he stated, firm but not unkind.
I turned to face him fully. "Why?"
He held my gaze. "Because I don't trust the streets at this hour."
His words hung in the air, final and absolute.
I glanced down the road. The street was eerily quiet, the occasional rustle of leaves or distant bark of a stray dog the only sounds cutting through the silence. A rickshaw hadn't passed in ages.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I should just let him walk with me.
I exhaled. "Fine."
He didn't say anything—just fell into step beside me.
The night stretched around us as we walked. The distance between us was small, almost nonexistent, but it felt immense.
Close, yet worlds apart.
My fingers curled into a fist. You're terrible, Aira. My thoughts screamed at me. How did you let go of Rei so easily? How did Arin take his place so quickly?
I kept my head down, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. The warmth of my palm pressed against the fabric, grounding me.
No. I swallowed. I never liked Rei.
I like Arin.
Or was it something else?
Are you forcing yourself to like Arin just to bury your feelings for Rei?
No. I swallowed. I like Arin. I do. I have to.
But why does seeing Rei still feel like this?
The realization hit like a cold wave until rei spoke