Tales From Tanakyo: I Want To Be With You

Daichi Hayashi sat by the bus window with his cheek resting against the cool glass, watching the city blur past.

Tanakyo slowly gave way to wider roads, quieter buildings, and glimpses of ocean in the distance. The sky was bright, almost annoyingly clear, the kind of day everyone else would call perfect. Around him, the bus was alive with noise. His classmates talked over each other, laughed too loudly, and passed snacks across the aisle like they had never eaten before in their lives.

A hand tapped his shoulder.

“Dude, you good?” Junsui asked from the seat beside him. “You keep spacing out at the window.”

Daichi blinked and sat up a little. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking.”

Junsui leaned back with a grin. “Thinking about how cool this trip’s going to be?”

Daichi looked out the window again. “We’re only going to Asamori. There’s nothing that special about it. It’s just an old city with better beaches and better malls than Tanakyo.”

“Exactly,” Junsui said, as if Daichi had just proven his point. “That means there’s stuff to do.”

Daichi gave him a flat look. “You say that like I’m supposed to be impressed.”

Junsui laughed. “You should be. And think about all the girls we could meet there. The beach girls in Asamori are supposed to be the prettiest in the whole city.”

Daichi looked away again. “Not my style.”

“I know,” Junsui said with a sigh. “You’re impossible.”

Daichi didn’t bother answering. He just watched the scenery change again. Asamori was close now. He could tell by the shape of the roads, the older buildings, and the occasional traditional rooftops mixed in with newer stores and apartment blocks. It was the kind of city people liked to romanticize. Old streets. Pretty views. Beaches. Shopping areas. Good food. A place students were supposed to get excited about visiting.

But to Daichi, it was just a school trip.

A week away from home. A shared hotel room. Forced group activities. Too much noise. Too many people pretending they were in some life-changing movie.

The bus slowed.

Voices around him rose instantly.

“We’re here!”

“No way, already?”

“Shotgun for the bed by the window!”

Junsui sat up straighter and looked out the front. “There it is.”

Daichi followed his gaze.

The hotel stood a short distance from the road, tall and polished with wide glass doors and a pale exterior that reflected the afternoon sun. Beyond it, he could see pieces of the city stretching out—streets lined with shops, distant buildings, and somewhere beyond all of that, the ocean.

The bus hissed as it came to a stop.

The second the doors opened, everyone started pouring out at once, grabbing bags, talking over each other, nearly shoving to get through the aisle.

Daichi stood more slowly, pulling his backpack over one shoulder before following the rest outside.

Warm air hit him immediately.

It smelled faintly like salt.

Junsui stepped down onto the pavement and stretched his arms over his head. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll admit it. This is already better than school.”

“That wasn’t a high bar,” Daichi muttered.

Their teacher stood near the front of the group, clipboard in hand, already trying to get control of the chaos before it got worse.

“Alright, listen up!” he called. “We’re on the third floor. Go up, put your stuff in your assigned rooms, and after that you’re free for the afternoon. Stay in groups, don’t cause problems, and make sure you’re back before it gets dark. Understood?”

A half-hearted chorus of “Yes, sir!” came back.

The students spilled into the hotel lobby, loud and restless, shoes clicking across the polished floor. Inside, it was cooler, filled with soft lighting and the quiet hum of air conditioning. Daichi followed Junsui to the elevators, surrounded by classmates already arguing over who got which bed.

A few minutes later, they stepped into their room on the third floor.

It was nicer than Daichi expected. Two neatly made beds, a wide window, a desk tucked against the wall, and just enough space to make it feel like they wouldn’t immediately want to kill each other.

Junsui dropped his bag onto one of the beds. “I call this one.”

Daichi set his own bag down on the other. “I figured.”

Junsui looked around the room, then turned back to him with the energy of someone who had absolutely no intention of sitting still for even five minutes.

“Beach or shopping first, Daichi?”

Daichi unzipped his bag halfway and shrugged. “I think I might just stay here for a bit.”

Junsui stared at him like he’d just said he wanted to spend the week locked in the bathroom.

“We just got here.”

“And?”

“And?” Junsui repeated. “We’re in Asamori. There’s a beach. There are stores. There are cafés. There are girls. Why would you stay in the room?”

Daichi sat down on the edge of the bed. “Because I can.”

Junsui pointed at him accusingly. “No. Absolutely not. I am not letting you waste the first hour of this trip hiding in the hotel like some retired old man.”

Daichi let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh. “Retired?”

“Yes. Retired. You’ve got the energy of a guy who pays taxes and complains about the weather.”

“That sounds peaceful.”

Junsui grabbed him lightly by the wrist and tugged. “Get up. We’re going shopping.”

Daichi resisted for about half a second before standing, mostly because he knew Junsui wouldn’t leave him alone otherwise.

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“And yet,” Junsui replied proudly, slinging an arm over his shoulder as they headed for the door, “you’d be bored without me.”

Daichi didn’t answer that.

The truth was, Junsui probably wasn’t wrong.

A few minutes later, they stepped back outside into the late afternoon sunlight and followed the main road down toward the waterfront.

Asamori was busier than Daichi had expected.

The streets were packed with tourists, students, couples, and families moving between stores and cafés. Seagulls drifted overhead, their cries mixing with distant traffic and the steady hush of waves somewhere beyond the buildings. Every now and then, the breeze carried the smell of salt through the city.

Ahead of them stood a massive shopping mall near the edge of the beach district, all glass walls and bright signs, its size almost ridiculous against the stretch of blue ocean just behind it.

Daichi slowed a little as he looked up at it.

“Why would they put a mall this big next to a beach?” he asked.

Junsui shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “No idea. But look at it. It’s way bigger than the ones in Tanakyo.”

Daichi looked at it again, then at the stream of people entering through the front doors. “Guess you’re right.”

“Told you Asamori had things going for it.”

Daichi gave a quiet hum in response as they walked inside.

The temperature dropped immediately. Cool air washed over them, replacing the heat from outside. The mall was even larger on the inside, bright and open with high ceilings, polished floors, and multiple levels stretching above them. Escalators carried people up and down while store signs glowed from every direction. Music drifted out from somewhere overhead, blending with the constant hum of voices.

Junsui looked around like he had just entered heaven.

“This place is insane,” he said.

Daichi had to admit, even if only to himself, that it was impressive.

Before he could say anything, Junsui had already grabbed his wrist and started pulling him toward one of the nearby clothing stores.

“Come on.”

“We’re seriously doing this first?” Daichi asked.

“Yes,” Junsui said. “Because unlike you, I actually plan to come back from this trip with more than convenience store snacks.”

Daichi let himself get dragged inside.

The store was full of neatly arranged racks, folded displays, and mirrors that made it look bigger than it already was. Bright summer clothes hung along the walls, most of them the kind of things Daichi knew Junsui would point at and call essential.

Which, of course, was exactly what happened.

Junsui grabbed a shirt off a rack and held it up against Daichi’s chest, narrowing his eyes as if carefully judging the fit.

“This would look good on you, Daichi.”

Daichi looked down at the shirt, then at him. “I thought we were shopping for you.”

Junsui ignored that. “Nah, this actually suits you. You should wear lighter colors more.”

“If you’re going to start buying me clothes, I’m leaving,” Daichi said, stepping back. “I already have enough clothes.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is to me.”

Junsui scoffed dramatically, still holding the shirt. “One day, I’m going to save you from dressing like your closet gave up on life.”

Daichi shook his head and turned away before Junsui could say anything else.

He took a few steps toward the end of the aisle, only half paying attention. His mind was still on the noise of the mall, the strange size of it, and the fact that Junsui had somehow made it less than ten minutes before trying to dress him like a different person—

And then he walked straight into someone.

The impact was light but sudden.

A soft sound of surprise left both of them as they lost balance and stumbled to the floor.

For a second, Daichi just blinked, too startled to process what had happened.

Then he looked up.

A girl sat across from him, one hand braced against the floor, the other pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. She looked just as surprised as he felt.

Daichi immediately stood and held out his hand.

“Are you okay?”

She looked at his hand for the briefest moment before taking it.

Her fingers were warm.

“Yes,” she said as he helped her up. “I’m fine.”

Daichi let go a second later, suddenly aware of how close they were standing.

“Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I wasn’t either.”

Then she lifted her face properly.

Everything else seemed to disappear.

The noise of the store, the voices around them, even the bright overhead lighting all seemed to blur into something distant and unimportant. Daichi could only look at her.

She was beautiful.

Not in the loud, obvious way Junsui would have pointed out the second he saw her. It was something quieter than that, something that caught him completely off guard. Her eyes were soft, still a little wide from the collision, and there was something in her expression that made his chest tighten before he even understood why.

For one strange, weightless second, it felt like the world had paused.

He had no idea what to say.

The girl seemed just as caught for a moment, as if she too had forgotten whatever she’d been about to do next.

Then, with the smallest, slightly nervous smile, she held out her hand.

“I’m Mika.”

Daichi stared at her hand for half a second too long before realizing what he was doing.

He took it.

Her grip was gentle.

“I’m Daichi,” he said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Mika said.

Neither of them let go right away.

Not because it was intentional. More because both of them seemed to realize it at the same time.

Daichi quickly pulled his hand back, heat rising to his face.

Behind him, Junsui’s voice cut through the moment.

“Daichi, did you just get taken out by a girl in under thirty seconds?”

Daichi turned sharply. “Shut up.”

Mika let out a quiet laugh, and the sound hit him harder than it should have.

Junsui walked over with the shirt still in his hand, looking between the two of them with badly hidden amusement.

“I leave you alone for one minute,” he said.

Daichi ignored him and looked back at Mika. “Sorry again.”

“It’s really fine,” Mika said. “No one got hurt.”

There was another brief pause.

Daichi wanted to say something else. Anything else. Ask why she was here, maybe. Ask if she was visiting with family. Ask if she lived in Asamori. Ask literally anything that would keep her standing here for another minute.

Instead, all he managed was, “Are you… shopping too?”

The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to disappear.

Of course she was shopping. They were in a clothing store.

But Mika didn’t laugh. If anything, she looked a little relieved, as if she’d also been trying to think of something to say.

“A little,” she said. “I’m here with friends.”

Daichi nodded. “Same.”

For a moment, both of them glanced away, then back at each other.

It was strange. He had never met her before. He knew absolutely nothing about her. And yet standing here in the middle of a crowded store, it felt like seeing her had shifted something inside him so suddenly that he couldn’t put it into words.

Across from him, Mika looked almost as flustered as he felt.

As if whatever had just happened to him had happened to her too.

Then, from somewhere deeper in the store, a girl’s voice called out, “Mika!”

Mika turned her head.

A second later, another voice, much closer this time, said, “There you are!”

She looked back at Daichi, and for the first time there was something like hesitation in her expression, as if she didn’t want the moment to end yet either.

“I should go,” she said softly.

Daichi nodded, even though every part of him wanted to say wait.

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”

Mika gave him one last small smile.

“Maybe I’ll see you around, Daichi.”

Before he could think too hard about it, he answered, “I hope so.”

Her expression changed just slightly at that, warmer somehow, and then she turned and walked toward the voices calling her name.

Daichi stood there watching her go until she disappeared past the racks.

Only then did he remember how to breathe.

Junsui slowly stepped up beside him.

“Wow,” he said.

Daichi didn’t answer.

Junsui looked over at him. “You’re gone.”

Daichi finally blinked. “What?”

“You’re completely gone,” Junsui said, grinning. “One collision. One handshake. That’s all it took.”

Daichi looked toward where Mika had disappeared.

His heart still hadn’t settled.

“…I don’t know what that was,” he said quietly.

Junsui’s grin widened. “Oh, I do.”

Daichi didn’t respond.

Because for once, Junsui was probably right.

And somehow, in the space of a few seconds, a school trip Daichi had been sure would mean nothing had already begun to feel like something else entirely.

Junsui kept glancing back toward the part of the store where Mika had disappeared, then looked sideways at Daichi with a grin he was making absolutely no effort to hide.

“So,” he said as they stepped out of the aisle, “you think she’s here on a school trip too, or do you think she lives here?”

Daichi’s eyes stayed forward, but his mind was still somewhere behind him.

“She’s on a field trip too,” he said.

Junsui raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do you know that?”

Daichi answered without hesitation. “That uniform. It’s from Tanakyo South Girls’ High School.”

Junsui stared at him for a second, then laughed. “What, have you been eyeing up girls from there or something? How do you know their uniform?”

Daichi finally looked at him, unimpressed. “They walk past our school every day, you idiot.”

Junsui threw his hands up. “Alright, alright. No need to get defensive.”

“I’m not defensive.”

“You definitely are.”

Daichi ignored him and kept walking.

But even as they left the clothing store and reentered the bright, open walkway of the mall, he could still feel the echo of the moment lingering in his chest. Her voice. Her hand in his. The way she’d looked at him like she’d been just as caught off guard as he was.

It was ridiculous.

He didn’t even know her.

And yet every few steps, his thoughts pulled backward again—toward the store, toward the aisle, toward the girl who had smiled at him like that.

Beside him, Junsui let out a low whistle. “This trip just got way more interesting.”

Daichi shoved his hands into his pockets. “Can you not make this weird?”

“I’m not making it weird. You’re the one who looked like your soul left your body.”

Daichi gave him a flat look. “You talk too much.”

“And you don’t talk enough. That’s why we balance each other out.”

Daichi muttered something under his breath, but Junsui was already laughing.

Back inside the clothing store, Mika stood still for just a second longer than she meant to.

The noise around her slowly came back into focus—the music overhead, the rustle of hangers, the chatter of people moving past—but it all felt strangely distant, like she was hearing it through water.

Her fingers curled slightly at her side.

She could still feel the warmth of his hand.

Daichi.

Even just thinking his name made something in her chest flutter again.

She turned her head before she could stop herself, eyes searching past the racks until she caught one last glimpse of him walking away with his friend through the open front of the store.

For a moment, she just watched him go.

“Mika.”

The voice came from beside her this time, close enough to make her blink.

“Mika, you still with us?”

She turned quickly.

Yui was standing there holding two tops over one arm, her expression somewhere between amused and suspicious.

Mika straightened almost instantly, as though she hadn’t been staring at all. “Yeah, I’m here. Where else would I be?”

Yui tilted her head. “In la-la land?”

Mika frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yui’s smile widened. “It means that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look at a boy like that.”

Mika felt heat rush to her face. “I did not look at him like anything.”

“You absolutely did.”

“I bumped into him, that’s all.”

“Mhm.” Yui crossed her arms. “And after bumping into him, you both stood there staring at each other like the rest of the store had disappeared.”

Mika opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Because that was exactly what it had felt like.

Yui noticed the silence immediately and her eyes widened with delight. “Oh my god. Mika.”

“Don’t,” Mika said quickly.

“You like him.”

“I just met him.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

Mika looked away, suddenly very interested in a rack of clothes she hadn’t noticed five seconds ago. “You’re being dramatic.”

Yui stepped closer, lowering her voice into an exaggerated whisper. “You got hit with the love-at-first-sight thing, didn’t you?”

Mika almost choked on air. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I am not blushing.”

“You are absolutely blushing.”

Mika lifted a hand to her cheek and instantly regretted it when Yui gasped.

“There,” Yui said. “Proof.”

Mika groaned softly and turned away, but the movement only made Yui laugh.

The worst part was that Mika couldn’t even properly deny it.

Because the second she had looked up and seen him—really seen him—something had shifted inside her so suddenly it had left her off balance. It made no sense. She didn’t know anything about him beyond his name, his school uniform, and the fact that his voice had gone gentler when he asked if she was okay.

But somehow, that had been enough.

More than enough.

Yui studied her face for another second before the teasing in her expression softened.

“So?” she asked. “What’s his name?”

Mika hesitated.

Then, quietly, “Daichi.”

Yui smiled immediately. “Daichi, huh?”

Mika hated how warm her face felt all over again.

“He goes to the boys’ school near ours,” she said, trying to sound normal. “I recognized the uniform.”

Yui’s eyebrows lifted. “So you noticed his uniform too.”

Mika shot her a look. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Yui grinned. “Sure.”

Mika let out a breath and glanced back toward the front of the store, even though she already knew he’d be gone by now.

Still, the thought came anyway.

Maybe I’ll see you around, Daichi.

She hadn’t meant to say it like that.

Hadn’t meant to sound like she was hoping for it.

But she was.

And judging by the way he had answered, maybe he was hoping for it too.

Yui followed her gaze and smiled to herself, clearly noticing far more than Mika wanted her to.

“Well,” she said, hooking her arm through Mika’s, “good thing we’re all here for a whole week.”

Mika looked at her.

Yui’s grin turned knowing. “Which means if fate’s being nice for once… that probably won’t be the last time you run into him.”

Mika didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

Because for the first time since arriving in Asamori, the trip no longer felt like just another school event.

Now it felt like something had started.

Something small.

Something fragile.

Something she already didn’t want to lose.

Before Mika could say anything else, the curtain of one of the changing rooms slid open.

Sora stepped out with one hand on her hip and the other lightly tugging at the side of the bikini top she was wearing. “How does this look on me?” she asked. “Is there too much cleavage?”

Yui turned immediately, her eyes widening. “Girl, you look ready for the beach.”

Sora spun once like that settled the matter.

Mika looked her up and down, then gave her an unamused expression. “Do you want guys to be staring at you the entire time we’re at the beach tomorrow?”

Sora blinked. “Well… yes, but no.” She crossed her arms, thinking for a second. “I want boys to notice me. There’s a difference.”

Yui snorted. “Is there?”

“Yes,” Sora said firmly. “One is flattering. The other is annoying.”

Mika let out a small breath through her nose, then turned toward one of the nearby racks. Her fingers moved through a row of swimwear until she pulled out a different bikini and held it up.

“Try this one.”

Sora took it from her and held it against herself, checking the shape. It was still cute, still flattering, but softer and less revealing than the first one.

“…Okay, yeah,” Sora admitted. “This actually is more my style.”

Mika gave her a look. “Go put it on before you make a bad decision.”

Yui laughed. “She says that like she’s a fashion emergency service.”

Sora grinned and ducked back into the changing room with the new bikini.

A few moments later, the curtain slid open again.

This time Sora stepped out wearing the second one, adjusting one of the straps before looking between Mika and Yui. “Well?”

Mika nodded once. “Better.”

Yui tilted her head as she looked her over. “Honestly? Yeah. Still cute, still beach-ready, just less like you’re trying to cause traffic accidents.”

Sora looked down at herself, then smiled. “This feels more comfortable too.” She glanced at Mika with open appreciation. “This is why I like shopping with you, Mika.”

Yui clutched at her chest in mock offense. “Ouch.”

Sora laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Yui asked dramatically. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like I’m being replaced.”

“You’d pick the most chaotic option on purpose,” Mika said.

Yui placed a hand against her heart. “And yet, somehow, I’m still the fun one.”

Sora pointed at Mika. “She’s the reason we don’t walk out looking insane.”

“And I’m the reason you don’t walk out looking boring,” Yui shot back.

Sora considered that for a second, then nodded. “That’s actually fair.”

Mika shook her head, though a small smile threatened at the corner of her mouth.

For a moment, things felt normal again—the easy rhythm of shopping with friends, the teasing, and the back-and-forth she was used to. But only for a moment.

Because without warning, the thought slipped back into her mind.

Daichi.

It happened so suddenly that she almost frowned at herself.

Yui noticed immediately.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, then a grin slowly returned. “You’re doing it again.”

Mika looked up. “Doing what?”

“Drifting off.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” Yui said. “And I think we both know why.”

Sora, still admiring herself in the mirror, looked between them. “Why?”

Yui’s grin widened. “Because Mika bumped into a boy and now she’s mentally somewhere else.”

Sora turned so fast she nearly lost her balance. “What?”

Mika closed her eyes for half a second. “Can you not announce it to the entire store?”

Sora gasped. “Mika.”

“It was nothing.”

“That is never what people say when it’s actually nothing,” Sora replied.

Yui folded her arms smugly. “Exactly.”

Mika looked away, pretending to inspect another rack. “You two are impossible.”

Sora stepped closer, still wearing the second bikini, completely forgetting she was supposed to be deciding whether to buy it. “Was he cute?”

Mika hesitated just long enough for both of them to react.

“Oh my god,” Sora whispered.

Yui pointed at her like she’d just won something. “See?”

Mika’s face warmed all over again. “I hate both of you.”

“That’s not an answer,” Sora said.

Mika sighed softly, knowing there was no escaping it now.

“…Yes,” she admitted.

Yui and Sora immediately exchanged looks.

“Wow,” Yui said.

“Wow,” Sora echoed.

Mika frowned. “Why are you both saying it like that?”

“Because,” Yui said, “you never react to boys like this.”

Sora nodded eagerly. “Ever.”

Mika didn’t reply.

Because once again, they weren’t wrong.

She didn’t react to boys like this.

She didn’t usually spend this long thinking about someone she had only known for less than five minutes. She didn’t usually remember the exact tone of someone’s voice, the way they looked at her when they were worried, or the strange stillness that had settled between them in the middle of a crowded store.

But for some reason, she remembered all of it.

And the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to see him again.

Yui’s expression softened just a little as she watched her.

“So,” she said, gentler now, “are you hoping you run into him again?”

Mika looked down for a second.

Then, quietly, “Maybe.”

Sora smiled at that. “That’s kind of cute.”

Mika immediately looked up. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Sora replied, raising her hands in surrender. “A random trip to Asamori getting more interesting because of one boy? That sounds like the start of something.”

Mika shook her head, but she couldn’t deny the feeling settling in her chest.

Because somehow, that was exactly what it felt like.

Like the trip had changed.

Like something had quietly begun the moment she looked up and saw him.

Sora glanced at herself in the mirror one more time, then smiled. “Alright, I’m buying this one.”

Mika nodded. “Good choice.”

Yui sighed dramatically. “Another victory for Mika’s fashion judgment. Tragic for me, really.”

Sora laughed and hooked an arm around Yui’s, starting toward the register. Mika followed a step behind, but just before leaving the section, she glanced once more toward the front of the store.

He wasn’t there.

Of course he wasn’t.

Still, her chest tightened a little at the thought.

A week, she told herself.

We’re here for a week.

Maybe that would be enough for fate to be kind one more time.

By the time Mika, Sora, and Yui made it back to the hotel, the sky had already started losing its color.

The warm gold of late afternoon had faded into dusky blue, and the bright energy of Asamori’s streets had shifted into something softer. Store signs glowed brighter now, reflected in the hotel’s glass entrance as the three girls stepped inside with shopping bags in hand and the lingering warmth of the day still clinging to them.

The lobby was calmer than it had been earlier, though students still drifted in and out in groups, talking over each other as they returned from their own free time.

Mika slowed near the elevator and glanced toward the row of buttons, suddenly unsure.

“What floor again?”

“Second,” Sora said immediately.

Yui looked over at Mika with a grin. “You’ve really been out of it ever since the mall.”

“I have not.”

“You forgot what floor we’re on.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“It proves everything,” Yui said.

Mika gave her a look, but Sora was already pressing the elevator button.

A second later, the doors slid open, and the three of them stepped inside.

The ride up was quiet for all of five seconds.

Then Yui leaned back against the mirrored wall and looked at Mika from the side. “So,” she said casually, “if you happen to run into him again tomorrow, are you going to actually have a conversation this time?”

Mika stared straight ahead. “I did have a conversation.”

“You introduced yourselves,” Yui corrected. “That’s not the same thing.”

“It counts.”

Sora nodded thoughtfully. “Barely.”

Mika turned to look at both of them. “Why are you acting like this is suddenly your favorite topic?”

“Because it is,” Yui said.

The elevator doors opened before Mika could answer.

They stepped out onto the second floor and walked down the hallway, their footsteps softened by the carpet beneath them. The corridor was lit by warm ceiling lights, while the windows at the far end had turned dark, reflecting only the inside of the hall back at them.

Outside, the sun had fully disappeared.

Night had settled over Asamori all at once.

Mika glanced toward the window as they passed it. Beyond the glass, the city glimmered with scattered lights in the distance, but the sky itself had gone completely black.

It should have just felt like the end of a long day.

Instead, it felt like something was quietly continuing.

Something she still hadn’t figured out how to name.

They reached their room, and Sora pushed the door open first.

The second they stepped inside, Yui dropped her bags onto the nearest bed and let out a dramatic groan. “I’m exhausted.”

“That’s because you insisted on going into every store we passed,” Mika said.

“And I was right to,” Yui replied. “Great decisions were made today.”

Sora held up the shopping bag with her bikini in it. “That part’s true.”

Mika shook her head, though there was a small smile in it.

But even as she set her things down and moved around the room, a part of her mind kept slipping somewhere else. Back to the store. Back to the brief warmth of his hand. Back to the way he had looked at her like he hadn’t expected her to matter and then suddenly did.

Daichi.

She exhaled quietly through her nose and sat on the edge of her bed.

One week.

That was what Yui had said.

One week in the same city.

Maybe that meant something.

Maybe it didn’t.

But the thought was enough to make her heart stir all over again.

Across the hotel—or not nearly as far away as Mika realized—Daichi and Junsui were running back toward the entrance with the kind of urgency that usually came a few minutes too late.

The streets were darker now, the bright storefronts and streetlights casting long reflections over the pavement as they hurried back. The air had cooled just enough to make Daichi aware of how much time had passed.

Which was exactly why seeing their teacher step out through the hotel doors at that precise moment felt like the worst luck imaginable.

Daichi and Junsui slowed sharply.

Then stopped.

Their teacher came down the steps with the expression of a man who had expected to catch several students doing exactly what these two had just done.

He looked at them.

They looked at him.

Junsui straightened first, trying and failing to look like someone who had definitely not been sprinting back after dark.

Daichi was still breathing a little too hard to even attempt that.

Their teacher let out a long sigh, the kind that somehow sounded more disappointed than angry.

Then, without a word, he walked right past them.

Daichi turned his head slightly, watching him go.

Junsui waited until the teacher was a few steps away before grinning. “Told you we wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Daichi looked at him in disbelief. “Sure. This time.”

Junsui shrugged. “A win’s a win.”

“Last time we almost got sent home instantly.”

“That was different.”

Daichi gave him a flat look. “You say that every time.”

Junsui threw an arm around his shoulder as if they hadn’t almost been caught. “You have no trust in me.”

Daichi pulled away. “After the third time, I really couldn’t.”

Junsui pointed at him. “And yet you still came with me.”

Daichi pushed the hotel door open. “Shut up.”

They stepped inside, the cooler air of the lobby replacing the night breeze outside.

The hotel had settled into a quieter rhythm now. A few students lingered near the couches or the vending machines, but most had already made it back to their rooms. The front desk lights glowed softly, and the polished floor reflected the warm lighting overhead.

Daichi barely paid attention to any of it.

He was tired now in the way that came from too much walking, too much noise, and too much thinking he didn’t want to admit he’d been doing.

They crossed the lobby and headed for the elevator.

Junsui glanced sideways at him while they waited. “You’ve been weirdly quiet.”

Daichi stared at the closed elevator doors. “I’m always quiet.”

“Not like this.”

Daichi didn’t answer.

Because he knew exactly what Junsui meant.

He had been quiet in the store too. Quiet afterward. Quiet while they walked through the rest of the mall. Quiet all the way back to the hotel.

Not because he was tired.

Because every time his mind had drifted, it had ended up in the same place.

Mika.

The elevator arrived with a soft chime.

They stepped inside, and a minute later the doors opened again onto the third floor.

The hallway was mostly silent, lit in warm gold, the kind of silence that only made Daichi feel how worn out he actually was. He followed Junsui down the corridor and into their room, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.

Daichi dropped his bag near his bed and let out a breath.

“I’m going to sleep,” he said. “Hopefully I stay asleep until we leave for Tanakyo.”

Junsui laughed from across the room as he kicked off his shoes. “You won’t be able to sleep through a whole week.”

Daichi pulled a shirt from his bag and headed to change. “Watch me.”

“That’s not how time works.”

“Then I’ll invent a better version.”

Junsui grinned. “You’re really trying to escape the trip that badly?”

Daichi paused for half a second.

Not the trip, he almost said.

Just everything that came with it.

Instead, he only sighed, changed into something more comfortable, and dropped heavily onto his bed.

The mattress dipped under him as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

For the first few seconds, all he felt was exhaustion.

Then his thoughts caught up to him.

A girl in a clothing store.

A soft voice saying, I’m Mika.

A smile that had somehow stayed with him longer than anything else from the day.

Daichi closed his eyes.

This was ridiculous.

He barely knew her.

And yet out of everything Asamori had shown him that afternoon—the beach air, the enormous mall, the crowded streets, and the city lights settling into night—it was her face that stayed the clearest.

Across the room, Junsui was still moving around, saying something about tomorrow’s plans, but Daichi only half heard him.

Because somewhere between one breath and the next, a thought slipped in before he could stop it.

Maybe I’ll see you around, Daichi.

He opened his eyes again and stared into the dim room.

Tomorrow.

The word settled strangely in his chest.

For the first time since arriving in Asamori, tomorrow felt like it might actually matter.

That night, long after the room had gone quiet, Mika stood alone on the balcony.

Behind her, Sora and Yui were already asleep in their beds, the soft rise and fall of their breathing blending into the stillness of the room. Outside, Asamori had changed completely. The noise of the day had faded into something quieter, more distant. Streetlights traced the roads below, and the city’s scattered glow reflected faintly against the hotel windows.

Above it all, the night sky stretched dark and endless.

Mika rested her hands lightly on the railing and looked out over the city.

The air was cooler now.

It should have helped settle her thoughts.

It didn’t.

Every time her mind slowed down, it drifted back to the same moment. Daichi reaching out to help her up. The warmth of his hand. The way he had looked at her like he’d forgotten everything else for a second.

Her chest tightened again.

She let out a slow breath and finally turned to go back inside.

But halfway through the movement, something caught her eye.

A figure stood on one of the balconies above.

Third floor.

Mika froze.

Even in the dark, she recognized him immediately.

Daichi.

He stood facing out toward the city, one hand near the railing, his expression softened by the low glow spilling out from his room behind him. For one brief, impossible moment, Mika could only stare.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Then Daichi shifted, starting to turn back toward his room.

Before he could look her way, Mika darted inside.

She dropped down behind the glass door so quickly she almost lost her balance, sitting on the floor with one hand pressed tightly to her chest. Her face burned.

Outside, Daichi stopped.

He glanced toward the balcony below, brow faintly drawing together.

Was someone there?

He stood still for another second, looking out into the darkness.

Nothing moved.

After a moment, he stepped back inside, the balcony door sliding shut behind him.

Mika stayed where she was, sitting on the floor in the dark with her heart still racing.

Why did I do that? she thought. Why is my heart racing?

She didn’t have an answer.

After a while, she pushed herself back to her feet and slipped quietly into bed beside the sleeping stillness of the room.

Even after pulling the blanket up, even after closing her eyes, the warmth never fully left her face.