The city was always moving. Fast. Loud. Relentless.
But in a tucked-away rooftop garden above a campus building, time slowed down. Reiji and Miko sat on the wooden bench near the hydrangeas, sharing silence like it was something precious.
Reiji had brought sandwiches this time—homemade. Barely. He didn't mention the minor disaster he'd made of the kitchen that morning.
Miko took a bite and blinked. "This… isn't bad."
He smirked. "That's practically a five-star review."
They laughed. It wasn't the forced, polished sound of strangers trying to make conversation. It was easy. Familiar.
She leaned back, face tilted to the sky. "This spot is perfect."
"I needed a quiet place. Somewhere that didn't feel like a battlefield."
She nodded. "There aren't many of those left."
They stayed that way for a while—no confessions, no drama. Just presence.
Miko eventually pulled a book from her bag. "I brought something," she said. "One of my favorites."
She handed it to him. Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto.
He traced the title with his thumb. "You want me to read it?"
"No," she said. "I want you to understand why it means something to me. That's different."
He didn't have a response for that. But the look he gave her said enough.
As the sun began to dip, painting the sky with soft purples and golds, they stayed on that bench longer than either of them intended.
Neither of them wanted to leave.
Far below, on the ground floor of the same building, Kaito was handing off flyers for an entrepreneurship seminar. He glanced up toward the rooftop without realizing why.
Something was shifting. A current he hadn't yet caught.
But he would soon.