Heartbeats and Illusions

On the shaded rest bench, a boy and a girl sat side by side, the silence between them palpable yet strangely comforting. A subtle distance separated them, both physically and emotionally, as if the space held the weight of everything left unsaid.

Natsukawa Kanade stole a glance at the girl beside him, her delicate features illuminated by the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Her presence was as serene as ever, yet tinged with an unspoken tension that made his chest tighten.

"...So, how have you been lately?" Kanade blurted out, his voice betraying the slightest hint of hesitation.

The moment the words left his mouth, regret hit him like a thunderclap. Why did I say that? The question hung in the air, awkward and clichéd, drenched in the aura of a lovesick fool clinging to his past.

"I've been fine... And you?"

Her voice was soft, restrained, yet unexpectedly warm. She answered him, and that small mercy threw Kanade off balance.

"Ah, yeah... me too..."

He nodded slowly, stunned by her response. For a fleeting moment, hope flickered in his heart, but it was quickly smothered by the weight of his lingering guilt.

"..."

"..."

Both spoke at the same time, their voices overlapping in a clumsy rhythm.

"You go first."

"No, you go first."

An awkward silence settled once more before Kanade clenched his fists tightly, summoning the courage he desperately needed.

"Then, let me start..." he began, steeling himself. His pulse raced as if he were preparing for battle. This was his chance—a rare opportunity to make things right.

"Shiina... I want to apologize. I'm really sorry!"

Mahiru Shiina blinked in surprise. "Eh? No, I should be the one apologizing—"

"Please, just let me finish first." Kanade raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. He reached out instinctively, his fingers trembling, but he hesitated and withdrew before making contact.

"That day... I shouldn't have said those things to you. I didn't realize how much it would hurt you."

The words spilled out like a flood, each one chipping away at the guilt that had been festering inside him for far too long.

"At the time, I just wanted to lighten the mood and calm things down, so I said something thoughtless. I didn't mean to—well, I didn't think it would matter so much. But it did. And for that, I'm truly sorry."

Kanade exhaled deeply, as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest. The burden of regret that had been suffocating him now crumbled like a fragile stone, leaving behind a faint sense of relief.

"It's easy to assume people will just brush things off like we do," Kanade continued, his voice softer now. "But I was wrong. I understand that now. I'll never make the same mistake again."

He paused, his thoughts swirling. It wasn't about empathy—true understanding between people was often impossible. But he had to try.

"I know I don't have the right to ask this of you, but if it's not too much... I hope you can forgive me. And maybe... we can still be friends?"

Kanade lowered his head, his fists clenching tighter as he pressed them against his thighs. He looked vulnerable, like a child awaiting punishment.

Then, he felt it—a gentle warmth enveloping his hand.

"No, I should be the one to say something."

Startled, Kanade raised his head. Mahiru was gazing at him, her expression impossibly kind. Her honey-colored eyes held a mixture of guilt, warmth, and something he couldn't quite name.

"It wasn't your fault, Kanade," she said softly. "That day... I'm the one who said something wrong."

She shook her head, her golden locks catching the light like a halo. "I only said what I did because I was trying to keep you at a distance. I thought... if I acted cold, you'd give up on me."

Her voice wavered, a hint of regret lacing her words. "But then, I realized I didn't want you to give up. Not at all. And by the time I knew that, my words had already hurt you."

She tightened her hold on his hand, guiding it upward. To Kanade's shock, she placed his palm against her cheek, leaning into his touch as if seeking solace in the warmth of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Kanade. And if it's not too late... please let me be your friend again."

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, her voice trembling with sincerity. "You might not believe this, but meeting you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me."

Kanade's breath hitched. Her words felt like a soft glow, thawing the coldness that had long gripped his heart.

It's strange how people often only realize the true value of something once they've lost it. It's human nature, an innate reaction to absence. But for Mahiru, this wasn't some fleeting epiphany born of comparison or regret. It was a truth she had carried with her every single day.

Kanade mattered to her. Deeply.

These feelings weren't new—they were the result of everything that had built up over the past year. She liked Kanade. Not the idea of him, not just a specific version of him, but him. And it didn't matter if they could only remain friends. As long as she could see him, be by his side, and watch him smile, she would be content.

But deep down, Mahiru knew she was greedy.

She liked the old Kanade, the one who stumbled through life with a self-deprecating smile, the one who needed her help with even the simplest things. She adored the way he'd indulge her strange whims, his quiet tolerance and occasional flustered expressions.

And she liked the Kanade of now—the one who had grown into someone confident and dazzling, drawing attention wherever he went. He made her heart race, not just because of his newfound charisma, but because she knew that beneath it all, he was still him.

The truth was, Mahiru wanted more. Being friends wasn't enough. She wanted to be close to him—closer than anyone else. To walk beside him in school, to share secret smiles that no one else understood. To feel the brush of his shoulder, the warmth of his presence.

But she was afraid. Afraid that her desires would burden him. So, for now, she kept those feelings locked away, content to let them exist as harmless fantasies.

"I'm a greedy person," Mahiru admitted, her voice soft but resolute. "Not just now, but in the future too. I want to stay by your side forever, Kanade... Is that okay?"

Her words were a quiet vow, a promise to herself as much as to him. She had made mistakes before, but she wouldn't repeat them. She would stay by his side for as long as he needed her, no matter what form their relationship took.

"Shiina..." Kanade's voice trembled as he began to respond.

But before he could say more, a sudden commotion shattered the moment.

"Ahhh!"

The sound of a crash drew their attention to the corner of the wall, where three girls were now sprawled on the ground in an ungainly heap.

"Ahem. Don't mind us—please, continue!" one of them stammered, attempting to salvage what little dignity they had left.

Mahiru froze, her face turning crimson as she processed the intrusion.

"You—you've got it all wrong!" she exclaimed, leaping to her feet and waving her hands in a frantic gesture of denial. "It's not what you think!"

Her normally composed demeanor crumbled under the weight of her embarrassment. Even the ever-poised "Angel" Shiina Mahiru couldn't suppress the wave of panic that swept over her.

"Wrong? What's wrong?" one of the girls teased with a sly grin. "We didn't say anything, Shiina-san. You're the one who seems nervous."

"Y-yeah, we're just here to spectate. Carry on, don't mind us!" added another, clearly enjoying the situation far too much.

Kanade sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, alright. Break it up, you guys. Class is about to start anyway."

As the girls continued their playful banter, he stood, brushing off his pants. Staying here any longer would only make things worse—for Mahiru and for himself. He wasn't about to be roped into an argument or endure the teasing that was bound to come.

"Shiina, I'll head back first," he said, giving her a small, reassuring smile.

Her wide eyes flicked toward him, searching for something in his expression. "Kanade, wait—"

But he shook his head, cutting her off gently. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I trust you to handle this."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Mahiru standing there, her hand half-raised as if to stop him.

The girls quickly surrounded her, their laughter filling the air as they began pestering her with questions.

And though Mahiru's heart felt a pang of regret watching Kanade leave, she steeled herself. She wouldn't let this moment slip away. Not this time.