-Hayato-
The restaurant was as lively as ever, filled with the hum of conversations and the occasional clatter of dishes. Yet, something felt off.
Miya hadn't shown up for her shift.
I tapped my fingers against the table, my brows furrowed in concern. She was always punctual—if anything, she arrived earlier than required. But today, there had been no sign of her. No calls, no messages. Just silence.
"Maybe she's just running late," Minami Kaga, one of our co-workers, mused beside me, sipping on her iced coffee. "You're overthinking, Hayato."
I shook my head. "No. Miya isn't the type to miss work without a reason."
Minami tilted her head, studying me. "You're seriously worried, huh? You always act like this when it comes to Miya."
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Of course, I was worried. Miya was—is—important to me. I had always been by her side, quietly watching over her, even when she had only ever seen my brother.
Ryo.
His name alone felt like a weight pressing on my chest. My perfect older brother, the one Miya had loved with all her heart. The one she had lost.
And me? I had always been in the background.
The best friend.
The one who could never say the words I truly wanted to.
But Miya and I… we had known each other long before Ryo ever entered her world.
We first met in elementary school—just kids sharing the same classroom. Miya was the quiet type back then, but there was something about her that pulled people in. Maybe it was her kind eyes, or the way she never hesitated to help others.
We became friends naturally, the kind of friendship that felt effortless.
By middle school, we were even closer. Miya had grown livelier, more open, and I—well, I had already started to fall for her.
I never said anything, of course. How could I? I was too afraid to ruin what we had.
Then came the day that changed everything.
I had invited Miya over to our house for a group project. She had hesitated at first, but in the end, she agreed. That was the first time she met Ryo.
I still remember the way they clicked instantly. How my older brother, always so composed, had been amused by Miya's sharp wit. How she, in turn, had been drawn to his quiet confidence.
And in high school, they both became part of the student council.
They spent more time together. They laughed together. And then, one day, Ryo confessed.
Miya accepted.
And I… I buried my feelings.
I told myself it didn't matter. That being Miya's best friend was enough. That as long as she was happy, I didn't need anything else.
But even now, after everything—after Ryo was gone—why do I still feel this way?
Why can't I let go?
Present
"Hayato?" Minami's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "What are you going to do?"
I exhaled slowly, pushing my chair back. "I'm going to check on her. Something doesn't feel right."
Minami watched me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Let me know if she's okay."
I grabbed my coat, my resolve firm.
I didn't care if I was overreacting. I needed to see her—to make sure she was safe.
Minami – Unspoken Feelings
I watched as Hayato hurried out of the restaurant, his worry for Miya evident in the way his brows were knitted together, in the urgency of his steps.
A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips.
He's always like this when it comes to Miya.
Always running to her. Always putting her first.
Even back then—when Ryo was on his deathbed, when Miya's world was crumbling—Hayato was the one who stood by her side. He never left. He gave her all his support, all his patience, all his love.
And I watched.
I watched as he held her when she cried, as he reassured her, as he stayed strong for her sake.
And in those moments, I wished—just once—that he would look at me the same way.
But I already knew the answer.
Hayato's heart had been occupied for a long time.
Even though he never said it out loud, even though Miya never once saw him as more than a friend—his feelings for her had always been obvious.
I knew it.
And yet, no matter how much it hurt, I couldn't hate Miya for it.
Because Miya had never asked for Hayato's love.
She loved Ryo. And when she lost him, she had been shattered.
Even now, I could still remember the way her voice trembled when she spoke his name, the emptiness in her eyes.
Maybe that was why Hayato stayed. Because she needed him.
But… what about me?
Did I even have a place in his heart?
I sighed, stirring the ice in my coffee absentmindedly.
I already knew the answer to that, too.
No matter how long I waited, no matter how much I loved him…
Hayato's eyes would always be on Miya.
The three of us—Hayato, Miya, and I—had always been together.
I had known Hayato since childhood. Our parents were close, so naturally, we were, too. We played together, spent countless afternoons running through the neighborhood, and shared silly childhood secrets.
Back then, it was just the two of us.
And somewhere along the way, my childish admiration turned into something more.
By the time we reached elementary school, I already had a crush on him. He was kind, always looking out for others, always full of warmth. I thought—no, I hoped—that maybe one day, he would see me the way I saw him.
Then Miya transferred to our school.
Her family had moved to our town because of work, and from the very first day, Hayato was drawn to her. It wasn't romantic at first—just curiosity. He was the one who welcomed her, who introduced her to everyone.
And slowly, the two became three.
By middle school, we were inseparable. The three of us walked home together, studied together, laughed together. It was fun. It should have been enough.
But then, something changed.
I began to notice the way Hayato looked at Miya. The way his eyes softened around her. The way he always put her first, even before himself.
And that was when I realized.
I had always been beside him, but I was never the one in his heart.
Even before Ryo.
Even before Miya had lost the person she loved.
Hayato had already fallen for her.
No matter how much I tried to push those thoughts away, the jealousy—the loneliness—lingered.
what about me?
I was just his childhood friend.
Did I even have a place in his heart?
I sighed, stirring the ice in my coffee absentmindedly.
I already knew the answer to that, too.
No matter how long I waited, no matter how much I loved him…
Hayato's eyes would **always** be on Miya.
-Miya suzuki-
The scent of warm food drifts through the air as I step out of the bedroom, still feeling a little groggy but much better than before. My body feels lighter, the fever no longer burning through me.
As I walk into the dining area, I see him—Kizaki-kun—setting plates on the table. Miso soup, grilled meat, omurice, and a few other dishes, all neatly arranged.
*He… cooked?*
"You… made all this?" My voice comes out softer than I intended, still hoarse from being sick.
Kizaki-kun glances at me before placing the last dish down. "You need proper food to recover."
His tone is casual, but the fact that he put in the effort to cook makes something stir in my chest.
Then, I feel the oversized fabric draped over my body shift slightly, and I freeze.
Wait.
I glance down. The shirt I'm wearing—it's too big. Definitely not mine.
A sudden realization strikes, and my face burns.
"Kizaki-kun… my clothes?" I clutch the hem of the shirt, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looks at me with a neutral expression. "Your clothes were damp from your fever. I changed them for you."
My entire body tenses. "Y-You…?"
His gaze doesn't waver. "I wiped you down and changed your clothes, but I didn't look or do anything weird."
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I instinctively pull the oversized shirt closer around me.
S-Still…!
"Would you rather have slept in wet clothes?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.
"T-That's not the point!" I exclaim, my voice higher than I intended.
"Then what is?"
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I have nothing to say to that. Instead, I groan softly, feeling utterly embarrassed, and shuffle to the dining table in defeat.
Kizaki-kun places a bowl of miso soup in front of me. "Eat."
I stare at the warm dish for a moment before picking up the spoon hesitantly. As soon as I take a sip, the warmth spreads through me, soothing my body.
"It's… really good," I murmur, surprised.
Kizaki-kun doesn't react at first, taking a bite of his own food. Then, after a moment, he says, "Good."
I glance at him, watching as he eats in silence.
For someone so blunt and reserved, he has a strange way of showing he cares.
And somehow, it makes my heart feel warm.
-Kei-
As I take a bite of my food, my eyes drift to Miya. She's eating quietly, her face still slightly flushed—not just from the fever, but from embarrassment.
I get it.
I understand exactly why she's embarrassed.
Because I'm still trying to forget what I went through just to change her clothes.
I let out a quiet sigh, setting my chopsticks down as I lean back slightly. My mind unwillingly replays the struggle from earlier.
Her clothes had been soaked with sweat, clinging to her body in a way that only made things… worse.
I had never been more conflicted in my life.
On one hand, I knew I had to change her into something dry—letting her sleep in wet clothes would have only made her fever worse. But on the other hand… how the hell was I supposed to do that without looking?
I ran into my first dilemma immediately: her shirt.
The thin fabric stuck to her skin, outlining every curve of her body. It was impossible not to notice, no matter how hard I tried to be a decent man about it.
I had to force my gaze anywhere but her.
Removing it without looking had been a nightmare. I ended up closing my eyes, pulling the fabric up as quickly as possible, and nearly tripping over myself in the process.
And then… the second problem.
Her undergarments.
I stared at her for a long time, mentally debating my next move.
I couldn't let her sleep in them—they were damp too. But the thought of removing them? That was a whole different problem.
In the end, I did what any desperate man would do.
I grabbed a pair of my boxers and carefully swapped them out for her underwear. Eyes closed the entire time, hands working stiffly as if I was disarming a bomb.
Her bra? Even worse.
I had to unclasp it without looking. It took me three tries, and even then, my hands were shaking the whole damn time.
By the time I was done, my forehead was damp with sweat.
So yeah.
I completely understand why Miya is embarrassed.
Because I am just as embarrassed.
I glance at her again, watching as she quietly eats her food, her fingers fidgeting slightly.
Maybe I should say something to make her feel less awkward.
…Or maybe I should just let her be.
Yeah. Probably the second option.
-Miya-
Just as I was finishing my meal, a loud ding-dong echoed through the hallway.
I blinked.
*That was… my doorbell.*
At the same time, my phone, which had been resting on Kei's table, started buzzing. I reached for it hesitantly and glanced at the caller ID.
Hayato.
I quickly picked up. "H-Hayacchi?"
"Miya! Where are you? I've been knocking on your door!" His voice was filled with concern. "You didn't show up for work, and you weren't answering your phone, so I—"
"I'm fine," I cut in quickly, feeling guilt creep in. "I… caught a fever, so I've been resting."
"A fever?" There was a slight pause before he spoke again, his tone a mix of relief and worry. "Are you alone? Do you need anything?"
I hesitated.
Alone?
I glanced at Kizaki-kun, who had been quietly listening from across the table. He didn't say anything, but his gaze met mine, waiting for my response.
I bit my lip. "I… um—"
Before I could even find an answer, Hayato's voice came through the phone again.
"Wait… are you not in your apartment right now?"
I stiffened.
Right.
He was standing in front of my door, but I was answering from… Kizaki-kun's.
Panic rushed through me as I quickly stood up from the table, nearly tripping over the oversized shirt I was wearing—Kei-kuns shirt.
I barely spared him a glance as I muttered, "I-I'll be right back," before hurrying toward the door.
I stepped into the hallway, my bare feet against the cool floor, and found Hayato standing in front of my apartment.
His eyes immediately widened when he saw me.
"Miya?" His gaze darted between my door and where I had just come from—her neighbor's unit. "Wait, you—"
Before he could finish his sentence, I quickly raised my hands in reassurance. "I-I know what you're thinking, but it's not what it looks like."
Hayato's brows furrowed, his expression filled with confusion and concern. "Then… explain."
I swallowed hard. "I was caught in the rain yesterday and ended up with a fever. Kei—uh, Kizaki-kun—helped me and let me rest in his room."
Hayato's lips parted slightly, his jaw tense. "You stayed here? The whole time?"
I nodded slowly. "Yes."
For a moment, Hayato didn't say anything. He just stared, his eyes scanning my appearance—the oversized shirt, my slightly flushed face, my bare feet—before shifting his gaze toward the door behind me.
And then, as if on cue, that very door opened.
Kizaki-kun stepped out.
His expression was as unreadable as ever, hands casually tucked into his pockets, but his presence alone was enough to make the tension in the air even heavier.
His eyes flickered toward Hayato, then back at me. "…You forgot your slippers."
I stiffened.
Hayato turned to fully face him, his usual calm demeanor visibly shaken.
"…And you are?"
I quickly stepped between them before the situation could get worse.
"A-ah! Um, Hayato, this is Kizaki Keizuke," I introduced quickly. "Kizaki-kun, this is Hayacchi, Higashi Hayato—… he's my best friend."
Hayato's gaze remained on Kizaki-kun, his expression unreadable.
"Best friend, huh?" Kizaki-kun unfazed, simply nodded in acknowledgment. "Nice to meet you."
Neither of them moved.
I could feel the awkward weight of the moment settling between the three of us.
…This was going to be complicated.
Kizaki-kun didn't say much after the brief introduction. He simply gave Hayato a nod before turning back to his unit, disappearing behind the door as if nothing had happened.
I exhaled slowly, shifting my gaze back to Hayato, who still looked slightly unsettled.
"You don't have to worry," I reassured him softly. "I'm feeling much better now. I'll be fine to return to work tomorrow."
Hayato hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Are you sure? You should take another day off if you're still recovering."
I shook my head. "I don't want to miss more shifts. Besides, I already caused trouble today."
He frowned but eventually nodded. "Alright… Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?"
"I won't."
With one last lingering glance at Kei's door, Hayato finally turned to leave.
I watched as he disappeared down the hallway before slowly retreating back into Kei's unit.
As soon as I stepped inside and shut the door, I finally registered something.
I froze.
Then, slowly, I looked down at myself.
The oversized shirt.
Kei Kizaki-kun's shirt.
And underneath it—nothing else.
My face immediately went red.
Oh my god.
How did I not realize until now?!
I was standing outside, in front of Hayato, and I had no undergarments on.
Kizaki-kun changed me.
He saw—
No. No. He said he didn't look.
…Right?
I bit my lip, trying to calm my racing thoughts as I carefully walked back toward the dining table. Kei was casually finishing the last few bites of his meal, seemingly unfazed.
Didn't he feel awkward about this?!
I hesitated before finally speaking. "Um… Kizaki-kun."
"Hm?" He didn't even look up.
"…My clothes."
He set his chopsticks down and leaned back slightly. "They're in the washing machine. You can take them out when they're done."
"…Oh."
I didn't know what else to say.
Kei stretched slightly before standing up, grabbing the empty dishes. "You should eat more. You're still recovering."
I quickly shook my head. "I'm full. But, um…" I swallowed, trying to ease the tension building inside me. "Thank you. For everything. For letting me stay here, for the food, for… taking care of me."
Kei glanced at me briefly before turning toward the sink. "It's nothing."
But it was something.
For someone like Kei, who always seemed distant, to go out of his way for me…
I felt warmth bloom in my chest despite my lingering embarrassment.
I went to his washing area to take my clothes and before opening the door I again expressed my gratitude to Kizaki-kun before I exit from His unit's door
Taking a deep breath, I gave him one last grateful look before finally returning to my unit.
And this time—with the full realization that I wasn't wearing anything underneath his shirt—I made sure to walk as quickly as possible.
--Kei --
The moment Miya stepped out to the hallway, I leaned back in my chair, listening as the door clicked shut behind her.
I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the thin walls of this place made it impossible not to hear their conversation.
Her voice was soft—almost guilty—as she reassured Hayato that she was fine and would return to work tomorrow.
And then there was his voice.
Steady. Concerned. Too familiar.
I could already tell what kind of guy he was just by listening. Hayato Higashi.
A presence that felt too close to Miya.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
I wasn't dense. The way he spoke to her, the way he hesitated—it didn't take a genius to figure it out.
He liked her.
And somehow, the realization annoyed me.
Not that it had anything to do with me.
It's not like Miya was mine.
And yet… when she came back inside, wearing my shirt, looking so effortlessly sexy in clothes that didn't belong to her, I found myself staring.
Too much.
She was tiny in my oversized shirt, her legs exposed, her hair slightly messy from sleep. And every time she shifted, I caught glimpses of her collarbone, the delicate curve of her shoulder.
She probably didn't even realize how tempting she looked right now.
And she had gone outside like that?
I clicked my tongue. She's too careless.
Miya sat across from me, and for the rest of our meal, she seemed… flustered.
She avoided my gaze at first, her cheeks tinged pink. But every now and then, she'd glance up—just for a second—before quickly looking away.
Short but frequent eye contact.
It was cute.
Too cute.
It almost made me want to tease her.
But I didn't.
Instead, I just watched. The way she played with her chopsticks absentmindedly, the way she puffed her cheeks slightly when deep in thought, the way her lips parted just a little when she hesitated to speak.
She looked so… different from the quiet, composed girl I had met before.
And for some reason, it made my chest feel—warm.
When she finally stood up and thanked me, I just gave a simple response.
"It's nothing."
But the truth was…
It wasn't nothing at all.
And when the door closed behind her, leaving me alone again, I exhaled slowly.
That familiar emptiness settled back in.
The silence.
The loneliness.
It was always like this.
No matter how much warmth filled the room when she was here…
The moment she left, I was back to where I started.
Alone.
-Hayato-
As I stepped out of the apartment complex, the cool night air greeted me, but it did little to ease the frustration stirring in my chest. My mind kept replaying what I had just seen—Miya stepping out of another man's apartment.
And not just any man—Kizaki Keisuke.
The guy Miya had never mentioned before. The guy whose name I had only heard for the first time tonight.
Who the hell was he to Miya?
My jaw tightened as I recalled the way she looked—her hair slightly disheveled, her cheeks still flushed from fever, and most of all—wearing a man's oversized shirt.
At first, I hadn't noticed. My relief at seeing her okay had momentarily overridden everything else. But then, it hit me. That wasn't Miya's shirt. It was his.
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach.
I knew Miya. She wasn't careless. She wasn't the type to casually stay over at someone else's place. So why…?
Did something happen between them?
I shook my head, trying to push away the thought, but the jealousy creeping up my spine was undeniable.
For years, I had been by Miya's side. I was the one who picked up her broken pieces after Ryo. I was the one who watched over her, protected her—loved her in silence.