It had barely stopped raining when Haruka shut down the bakery for the day.
The streets were slick and glinting with the fading light of day, reflections from streetlights strewn over puddles like shattered stars.
Haruka tightened her cardigan around her as she stepped out, the cold air sending a shiver down her skin.
Her brain was anything but quiet even after an entire day's work.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help but remember.
That funeral moment.
That girl was leaning so naturally next to Kaito, her head on his shoulder as if it was meant to be hers all along.
Haruka curled her lip up tight.
She hated herself for it—this simmering feeling that kept boiling up in her chest, no matter how much she tried to quash it.
Jealousy.
It was selfish and cruel, and she knew that she had no right to feel it.
Not after everything Kaito had endured.
Not when she should be worried about his loss, not with her own self-pitying, complicated emotions.
And still, no matter what she told herself, the image lingered in her mind.
Kaito, quiet and mourning.
That girl, intimate and known.
And Haruka. standing back.
Always standing back.
She crossed the street slowly, in the direction of the small park nearby—a place she had only just managed to muster up the courage to visit.
The swings creaked gently in the evening breeze, empty.
The benches glimmered with lingering rain.
Haruka sat down cautiously, the wetness soaking through her skirt, but she didn't move.
She looked up at the bruised sky as the final rays of light disappeared behind the clouds.
Kaito has someone, she thought grudgingly.
Someone he trusts. Someone let's see his pain.
And it wasn't her.
She clenched her hands tightly in her lap, grimacing at the sting of her nails on her skin.
It wasn't like she had any claim to him.
Kaito had been kind to her, yes.
He had helped her, yes.
He had made her heart flutter and her world a little brighter, yes.
But she had never said a word.
Never reached out.
Never asked if she could be in his world beyond the little, sheltered interactions at the bakery.
Haruka sucked in a shuddering breath, the weight piling down upon her chest once again.
Maybe she'd been silly to hope.
Maybe she'd read everything the wrong way.
Kaito is always kind to everyone, she kept telling herself. It hadn't meant anything specific.
But regardless of how hard she tried to reason herself out of it, that aching spot within her heart did not abate.
Her mind wandered back to the moments they had together—the goofy sticky notes, how he would smile when he caught her looking steadfastly, how he would sit beside her and put her favorite drink down quietly without saying anything.
Did those moments not matter to him at all?
Or had she imagined that they mattered?
A tear trickled down Haruka's face before she could catch it.
She pushed it aside in a rush, glancing around even though she knew no one was there.
She hated to cry.
Hated being so weak and helpless.
Above all else, about something she didn't deserve to cry about.
She should be thankful for him, shouldn't she?
Thankfully, he had someone to divide his life with.
Thankfully, he wasn't alone in his grief.
It hurt.
Hurt too much to endure.
Haruka leaned forward, elbows on knees, and her face buried in her hands.
It would have been easier perhaps if she had just stayed tucked away in her little room, never coming out to face the world.
It would have been easier, perhaps, if she had never met him.
Because now, losing him, even though she'd never really had him to begin with, was like losing a part of herself.
Evening descended deeper over her, cicadas buzzing louder in the distance.
Haruka attempted to sit up again, rubbing her eyes with the cuff of her cardigan.
She couldn't stay here forever, drowning in unspoken emotions.
She had promised herself, hadn't she?
Next time, I'll be there for you, too.
Even if it hurt.
Even if she had to keep them locked deep inside her heart.
She'd be there for Kaito.
Not as a girl asking for his love.
Not as a girl waiting to be chosen.
But as a friend.
As someone who understands.
Haruka gradually stood up, brushing off the wetness from her skirt.
She glanced at the sky once more, the stars just now visible through the vanishing clouds.
Then, quietly, she said into the darkness:
"Even if you can't see me. I'll still be here."
She spun and headed back towards the bakery, the soft splash of her feet on the wet road the only noise that trailed behind her.
Behind her, the world kept turning.
And out there, Kaito lived his pain, his own story.
Haruka balled her fists at her sides.
Even if she never spoke a word
Even if she never got to stand beside him the way that girl did
She would still care.
She would still hope.
And maybe, one day.
Maybe, one day, she would find the nerve to tell him all the things she couldn't yet.