"Yeah, maybe a little... but not with you," Miyano teased, a playful smile dancing on his lips.
Kiyoto froze, their eyes locked. The warmth in Miyano's gaze sent a ripple through him, stirring feelings he couldn't quite name.
"Oh, really?" Kiyoto muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and nervousness as he quickly averted his gaze, hoping to mask the sudden rush of emotions.
"Okay, okay, I'm going. It's already evening," Miyano said, grabbing his bag with a cheerful smile.
"Alright," Kiyoto replied, his tone calm but his eyes lingering on Miyano for a moment longer than usual.
"Thanks for this, Kiyoto," Miyano added warmly before heading out the door.
After seeing him off, Kiyoto shut the door and collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion washing over him. As he lay there, a faint, sweet scent lingered on the sheets. He turned his head slightly, breathing it in.
"Miyano," Kiyoto murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You really do smell... nice."
Meanwhile, in another corner of the campus, Kino stretched his arms with a groan. "Ahhh! I'm so tired. When I get home, I'm just going straight to bed," he said.
"Don't you think they're getting close?" Aio suddenly asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Who?" Kino asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Kiyato and Miyano," Aio replied with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, I think so. I've never seen Kiyoto get close to anyone before," Kino admitted, shrugging.
"What do you think, Izumi?" Aio teased, turning her attention to the quiet girl beside her.
Izumi fidgeted, her cheeks turning pink. "Y-Yeah... I think so too," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, cutie! Look at her blush!" Aio said, nudging Kino with a laugh. "Whenever we mention Kiyoto, she turns red like a tomato!"
"It's not like that," Izumi protested with a shy smile, her voice still soft, her hands fidgeting nervously.
Aio and Kino laughed it off, their chuckles light and teasing. Izumi's blush deepened, but she said nothing more, letting their laughter fade into the evening air.
Kiyoto lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The faint, sweet scent still lingered, refusing to fade. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. " His presence felt nice" he mumbled, almost annoyed at how Miyano's presence seemed to follow him everywhere.
He grabbed his phone, scrolling through messages to distract himself. Just as he was about to lock the screen, a notification popped up.
Miyano: Got home safe! Thanks for today, Kiyoto (◍•ᴗ•◍).
Kiyoto stared at the message longer than he should have, debating how to respond.
Finally, he typed back:
Kiyoto: Good. Rest up.
Kiyoto placed his phone on the bedside table and sighed again, willing his thoughts to settle. Just as his eyes began to flutter shut, his phone buzzed once more.
He frowned and reached for it, expecting another casual text from Miyano. Instead, it was an unknown number:
Unknown: "Stay away from him if you know what's good for you."
Kiyoto's heart skipped a beat as he sat up straight, staring at the screen. Who could this be? His mind raced, but no answers came.
Unable to ignore the unease, he stood up and paced the room. What did they mean by "him"? And why did it feel like the message was about Miyano?
Kiyoto shook his head. "There's no point thinking about it," he muttered. "It's just some random prank from an unknown number."
He tried convincing himself, but as he lay back down, the lingering sense of dread refused to fade.
The phone buzzed again, breaking his thoughts. Heart racing, Kiyoto hesitated before picking it up.
Unknown: Don't say I didn't warn you.
Kiyoto's stomach twisted as he stared at the message. This wasn't just a prank—it felt deliberate, almost personal. He opened the chat to block the number, but something stopped him.
"Maybe I should tell Miyano..." he whispered, then immediately shook his head. No, Miyano didn't need to get involved in this.
Trying to push away the growing anxiety, he switched off his phone and lay back down. But sleep wouldn't come easily.
The next day, Miyano glanced around the classroom. "Why didn't Kiyoto come to class today?" he asked, frowning as he leaned over to Aio.
Aio shrugged, twirling her pen absentmindedly. "No idea. He didn't say anything about skipping."
"That's weird," Miyano muttered, tapping his fingers on the desk. Kiyoto was never the type to miss class without a reason.
Miyano: Hey, you okay? You didn't come to class today.
He stared at the screen, waiting for a reply, but none came.
As the lecture began, Miyano's mind kept drifting. Why hadn't Kiyato replied? Was he sick? Or... was it something else?
Kiyoto stood silently in front of his father's grave, the cool breeze brushing against his face. His mother knelt beside him, her hands clasped together in prayer. The small bundle of flowers they'd brought lay neatly at the base of the gravestone.
The etched name on the stone blurred as Kiyoto's thoughts wandered. It had been years since his father passed, but the weight of his absence never fully left.
"Kiyoto," his mother's voice broke the silence, soft yet steady. "He'd be proud of you, you know."
Kiyoto glanced at her, her face lined with exhaustion but filled with quiet strength. She didn't cry anymore, at least not in front of him, but he could see the lingering pain in her eyes.
"I don't know about that," he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I skipped class today, Mom."
His mother looked up at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You're here. That's what matters."
Kiyoto's chest tightened as he looked back at the gravestone. He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't doing enough—at home, at school, or even for himself.
As they left the graveyard, his mother rested a hand on his shoulder. "Your father always said life's about small steps, Kiyoto. Just keep walking."
"You took the train or the bus?" his mom asked, her hands busy arranging the freshly packed rice balls and pickled vegetables for the shop.
"Train," Kiyoto replied, taking a sip of the cold barley tea she had handed him earlier. The refreshing taste eased the heat of the summer afternoon.
He leaned against the counter, watching her move swiftly around the small, cozy shop attached to their house. It was nothing fancy—just a few shelves stocked with ingredients, a menu board with daily specials, and a counter where locals came to grab a quick meal. But it was theirs.
"You didn't have to skip class for this, you know," his mom said, glancing at him with a mixture of gratitude and concern.
"It's Dad's day," he said simply, his voice quiet but firm.
His mom paused for a moment, her hands resting on a basket of fresh vegetables. She gave him a small smile. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying warmth. "But remember, your dad is always with us. So focus on your studies, Kiyoto. That's what he would want."
Kiyoto nodded, though his chest felt heavy. "I know," he murmured, finishing his drink and placing the empty glass on the counter.
The scent of fresh food mingled with the summer air as his mom returned to her work. For a moment, the quiet sound of her chopping vegetables felt comforting, grounding him in the reality of their small but meaningful life.
"Take this food with you, and be good with everyone. Don't get into any trouble. You know our situation, right?" his mom told him, packing a small bag of food for him to take with him.
Kiyoto nodded absently, his mind drifting. As he reached for the bag, a sudden memory of the message he'd received the day before flashed into his mind. "Don't let yourself get too close."
He froze for a moment, the words echoing in his head. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered the chilling feeling they'd left him with.