VOLUME 2: WHERE DISTANCE MELTS
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-AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, SAPPORO, HOKKAIDO, JAPAN-
-4:17 PM, NOVEMBER 14, 2016-
The theatre arts room emptied more slowly than usual.
After the rehearsal, no one was rushing out. Some students lingered, chatting quietly, others re-reading scripts or fixing props that didn't need fixing. It felt like everyone was stalling for something they couldn't name.
Ichika Komori stood near the back, her script held loosely at her side.
She hadn't spoken much after rehearsal ended.
Not because she didn't want to—but because she was still processing everything Rikuu had said earlier. His blunt honesty. The way he spoke about acting, about choice, about not being saved but choosing to stay.
It lingered in her chest.
Rikuu Arakawa stayed near the stage, helping fold curtains, his movements automatic. He didn't look at Ichika, but he knew where she was. He always did.
When the last club member finally left, the room fell quiet.
Rikuu straightened. "You heading out?"
Ichika looked up, surprised he spoke first. "…Yes. I was about to."
"Good," he said. "It's cold."
That was all.
They walked out together, not side by side—but not far apart either.
The hallway outside the theatre room was dimmer than the rest of the building, lights softened for the evening. Their footsteps echoed lightly against the floor.
Ichika broke the silence first. "About what you said earlier…"
Rikuu stopped walking.
She stopped too.
"You don't have to explain anything," she added quickly, worried she'd crossed a line. "I just wanted to say… I understand what you meant."
He didn't turn around. "You don't."
"I know," she said softly. "Not completely. But I'm trying."
That made him glance back.
"…Why?" he asked. "Why do you care that much?"
Ichika hesitated, then answered honestly. "Because when you talk about acting, you're not pushing people away."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"That's not intentional," he said.
"Maybe not," she replied. "But it's still real."
Silence stretched between them again—comfortable, but fragile.
Rikuu finally exhaled. "You should go. Your driver's probably waiting."
She nodded. "Yes… but, Arakawa?"
"…What?"
"I'm glad you chose the third option."
He frowned. "You remembered that."
"I did."
For a moment, he looked like he might say something else. Something heavier.
But instead, he stepped aside, giving her space.
"…See you tomorrow, Komori."
She smiled faintly. "See you."
Ichika walked away, her steps light but her thoughts heavy.
Rikuu remained where he was, watching the empty hallway long after she disappeared from view.
He didn't know when it happened.
Only that somewhere between the stage lights and quiet words—
distance had begun to soften.
And neither of them was ready to admit it yet.