When I finally return to our designated spot on the beach, the atmosphere is colder than a polar ice cap. My internal state, however, is completely different. I am not just a flustered boy hiding a simple conversation anymore. I am now the sole guardian of Aiwa Matsuki's painful past and her secret identity. It is a heavy, sobering responsibility.
"Well?" Rina demands, her arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently on the sand. "Did you enjoy your long, private, secret-sharing session with the damsel in distress?"
My new role gives me a strange, newfound strength. I am not just defending myself; I am protecting Aiwa.
"She was upset," I say, my voice calm and firm in a way that surprises even me. "You two ambushed her and accused her of being someone she is not. I apologized on your behalf. Now, leave her alone."
Rina and Haruka are both taken aback by my direct, commanding tone. They were expecting me to stammer and make excuses. They were not expecting me to go on the offensive.
"You are defending her?" Haruka asks, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"I am telling you to back off," I say, my gaze unwavering. "The situation is handled."
They clearly do not believe me, but my refusal to be flustered or intimidated leaves them with no clear line of attack. They are forced to let it go, for now, but I can see the suspicion churning in their eyes, now mixed with a new, unwelcome respect for my sudden backbone.
The rest of the beach trip is excruciating, but for a different reason. My mind is a whirlwind of guilt and anxiety. I just told a potential rival my sister's secret identity. I am now actively hiding another, even bigger secret from my own sister. I am a terrible brother. But as I watch Aiwa from a distance, seeing her laugh with her family, a small, genuine smile on her face, I cannot bring myself to regret it.
The train ride home is a tense, quiet affair. Rina, in a final act of territorial marking, once again falls "asleep" on my shoulder. Haruka sits across from us, pretending to read but actually glaring holes into the side of my head. My internal monologue is a frantic mess.
My phone buzzes. It is a text from Aiwa.
Aiwa: Thank you again for today, Rui-kun. For listening. And for keeping my secret.
I notice she has used my first name for the first time. I quickly type back a reply under the cover of my jacket.
Me: Of course. That is what heroes do, right?
A moment later, a reply comes back. A single, simple emoji: a sparkling star.
I look at Rina, sleeping on my shoulder. I think of Haruka's glare. I think of Aiwa's text. My life is no longer a simple romantic comedy. It is a high-stakes espionage thriller, and I am the hopelessly out-of-his-depth main character who somehow has to keep all the secrets, appease all the warring factions, and prevent the entire world from exploding. And honestly? A small, stupid, heroic part of me is starting to find it thrilling.