The apartment complex was quiet that evening, save for the gentle breeze rustling the trees and the faint hum of the streetlights flickering to life.
I had just stepped out of the local convenience store, a plastic bag in hand filled with instant noodles, canned coffee, and those stupid fish-shaped pastries Ichimiya kept shoving in my locker. My steps were automatic, mind fogged with the day's fatigue, when I heard it.
A voice. Soft. Uneasy.
"No, I'm just on my way home—please move."
I froze.
That voice… it was hers.
Yuzuki.
I quickly turned the corner and spotted her a few meters ahead, her back pinned lightly against the edge of a wall. Two guys stood in front of her, both clearly older than high school students. One of them leaned close, grinning like a creep. The other held something in his hand—her grocery bag?
"You don't have to be so uptight," one of them said. "We're just trying to have a little fun. You look lonely, sweetheart."
"Give me my bag," she said, voice firmer now.
"Feisty. I like it."
My fingers twitched.
I didn't think.
I acted.
"Oi," I called out, stepping out of the shadows.
The two guys looked up, surprised.
"Who the hell—?"
"She said give it back," I growled, stepping between them and Yuzuki.
The taller guy stepped forward. "Mind your business, pretty boy."
I cracked my neck. "You've got three seconds to hand the bag back. After that, I stop being polite."
The shorter one snorted. "You think you're tough just 'cause you look like a gangster?"
I didn't answer. I just gave him a look. The look that made first-years run away and teachers sigh in frustration.
They hesitated.
Then they backed off, muttering curses as they shoved the bag into my hand.
I didn't say anything else. Didn't need to.
Once they disappeared down the block, I turned and handed Yuzuki her bag.
She took it slowly. "Thanks…"
I noticed her hand trembling.
"You okay?" I asked, a little awkwardly.
She nodded, though her voice cracked. "Yeah… I'm fine."
Her eyes were glistening, but she blinked quickly to hide it.
"Come on," I said. "I'll walk you home."
She blinked at me. "Huh?"
"I'm not asking." I turned and started walking, and after a pause, I heard her soft steps follow.
As we walked under the streetlamps, neither of us said anything for a while. The tension from earlier still clung to the air like static. Eventually, Yuzuki glanced at me.
"Thanks again," she said softly. "You really didn't have to step in."
"I didn't like the way they were talking to you," I muttered. "That was enough."
She smiled faintly. "Still… it was nice."
We crossed a street and turned into the residential zone.
"So," I said, finally breaking the silence, "where exactly do you live?"
She pointed ahead. "That brown building."
I stopped.
"…You mean that one?"
"Yeah." She tilted her head. "Why?"
"That's… my building."
We both stared at each other.
Then slowly, in perfect synchronization, we walked toward the gate. And then—
"You're… apartment 304?" she asked, blinking.
I slowly nodded. "Yeah."
She laughed. "I'm 305."
I blinked. "You're kidding."
She shook her head. "Nope."
Great.
Out of all the people in the city, I end up living across from the one girl who keeps cracking the walls I've built.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting awkwardly on a stool in Yuzuki's tiny kitchen.
"…You sure this is okay?" I asked, eyes darting to the counter where she was unpacking.
She glanced over her shoulder. "You saved me. Letting you crash here for a meal is the least I can do."
She set a pot on the stove and started preparing curry.
My stomach growled before I could stop it.
Yuzuki giggled.
"Did you eat dinner?"
"…Not really."
She narrowed her eyes teasingly. "Typical tough guy. You fight off creeps but forget to eat."
"I didn't forget."
"Oh?"
"I just… wasn't hungry."
She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
"I had pastries," I added lamely.
"Let me guess… taiyaki?"
"…Maybe."
She rolled her eyes and returned to cooking.
The smell of simmering stew filled the room, cozy and oddly nostalgic. I didn't know I missed this scent until I smelled it again. Not that I'd ever admit that.
"Here," she said, placing a steaming bowl in front of me.
"Thanks."
We ate quietly for a few minutes. The stew was spicy and warm, just the right amount of heat that lingered on the tongue but didn't burn.
"This is… good," I said, honestly.
She beamed. "Glad you like it."
We ate in silence for a while, but eventually, she put her chopsticks down.
"You really scared me today," she said.
I looked up. "Sorry."
"No, not because of the guys… I mean, that too. But mostly… because you just walked away after. Like nothing happened."
I paused. "Would you have preferred I stayed?"
She shrugged, not looking at me. "I don't know. Maybe. It's just… I guess I'm not used to people helping me and acting like it didn't matter."
I looked down at my bowl.
"…I'm not used to people like you either."
She looked surprised.
I continued, "People who notice things they shouldn't. Say things they shouldn't. Make you feel things you thought were gone."
The room grew quiet.
She tilted her head. "Did I say something I wasn't supposed to?"
"…Yeah. A while ago. In the music room. You didn't know I was there."
Her eyes widened.
"You said I looked like I was carrying something."
She bit her lip. "You heard that?"
I nodded.
She sighed softly. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to be rude."
"You weren't. You were… honest."
She looked at me, waiting.
"I just didn't expect someone to see through me so quickly."
"I wasn't trying to," she said. "But I guess… I just felt it."
I didn't reply.
She glanced at my wrist. "Do your tattoos mean something?"
I blinked, surprised she asked so casually.
"…Yeah. They all do."
"Can I know?"
I hesitated.
Then slowly, I lifted my sleeve to reveal the cross and snake tattoo.
"This one's called 'poison.' Represents what love felt like before."
She looked at it for a moment, then nodded. "And now?"
"…Still poison. But I'm building an immunity."
She chuckled.
"And the earrings?"
I touched one absentmindedly. "Each one's for something I overcame. Eight in total. Maybe I'll add a ninth if I ever let myself heal fully."
Yuzuki smiled, warm and genuine. "I hope you do."
There was something comforting about her presence. Not forceful. Not invasive. Just… there. Steady.
We finished the stew in silence, but not the kind that pressed on your chest. It was the kind that settled, like warmth in your bones.
After dinner, I stood to leave.
"Thanks for the food," I said, voice soft.
"Thanks for walking me home," she replied.
Our eyes met for a moment too long.
I opened the door, hesitated, then turned back.
"Hey… if anyone bothers you again, let me know."
She grinned. "Same goes for you, Tatsumiya-kun."
I smirked faintly.
"Goodnight, Yuzuki."
"Goodnight."
As I stepped into the hallway, the door closing gently behind me, I felt… lighter.
Not healed. Not fixed.
But maybe…
Maybe healing had already started.