Monday morning arrived with an unusual sense of calm. Maybe it was the leftover warmth of the weekend, or maybe it was something more subtle—like the quiet understanding that had grown between Takara Minami and Kayo Tsukishiro, rooted in late-night whispers and shared laughter under soft, flickering dorm lights.
Takara was the first to stir. He stretched dramatically in bed, yawning like a cat, before glancing across the room.
Kayo was already up, seated at his desk with a book in hand. Not unusual.
But he looked up the moment Takara shifted, and—oddly enough—smiled.
"Morning," he said.
Takara blinked. "Wait. Did I just get a morning and a smile before 8 a.m.? Who are you, and what have you done with Tsukishiro?"
Kayo rolled his eyes, but his lips curled with amusement. "You're so dramatic."
"You say that like it's a bad thing." Takara hopped down from his bed and padded over to brush his teeth. "So. Big question of the day."
"I'm afraid to ask."
"Lunch together again?"
Kayo didn't hesitate. "Yeah."
Takara grinned into the mirror. "You're getting soft, Tsukishiro."
"You're rubbing off on me."
And though the words were tossed lightly, Takara's heart skipped a beat.
At school, things were starting to change.
They were no longer "the loud one and the quiet one," known only for their awkward roommate dynamic. People had begun to see them as a pair—still different, but… somehow better together.
At lunch, they sat across from each other, Takara animatedly talking about his upcoming art project while Kayo listened, occasionally interjecting with a thoughtful suggestion or a sarcastic quip.
They were still opposites. But now, they complemented each other in a way that drew attention.
Rika from the literature club passed by and gave them a knowing look.
"You two are getting along well these days," she said with a teasing tone.
Takara grinned. "We've evolved from enemies to uneasy allies."
Kayo sipped his tea, unbothered. "He means I tolerate him now."
Rika laughed. "Right. 'Tolerate.' Sure."
When she left, Takara leaned forward. "Do you think people are starting to think we're…"
"A couple?" Kayo supplied.
Takara raised his eyebrows. "You said that without flinching."
"I've had practice now."
Takara laughed, but there was a nervous energy to it. "Would it bother you? If they thought that?"
Kayo paused, then met his eyes. "No. Not if it were true."
Takara nearly choked on his juice. "Wait—was that a confession?"
Kayo shrugged lightly. "Depends. Are you going to freak out?"
"Only internally."
That evening, back at the dorm, the tension between them had shifted—but not in a bad way.
It was like walking along the edge of something deeper, a line neither of them had dared cross fully before. Yet now, every glance, every brush of fingers when passing the remote or reaching for the same pen, felt electric.
Takara flopped onto his bed with a dramatic sigh.
"I'm starting to think I've fallen for the roommate who alphabetizes his books and lectures me about laundry."
Kayo didn't look up from his notebook. "I've fallen for the one who can't sit still and steals my snacks."
Takara sat up. "Wait, that sounded very real."
Kayo capped his pen. "It was."
The room fell silent, tension curling between them.
Takara crossed the space slowly, stopping beside Kayo's desk. "Then what now?"
Kayo stood up, looking Takara in the eye. "Now, I stop pretending I don't feel something every time you smile."
Takara's breath caught.
"I'm still scared," Kayo added. "But I'm tired of letting that stop me."
Takara reached for his hand—tentatively, gently—and Kayo let him take it.
"I'm scared too," Takara whispered. "But I'm also ready."
They didn't kiss. Not yet.
It wasn't the right moment.
But they stood there, holding each other's hands, with hearts wide open and walls beginning to crumble. And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt alone in the world.
They were figuring it out. Together.