[Third Person Pov]
As Clark walked beside Komi, his steps were steady but his mind was far, far away. He felt like he was drifting through a soft haze, the world around him muted as his thoughts replayed the rooftop scene in vivid detail—every lingering touch, every stolen glance, every moment he wasn't sure how to process. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line as his mind looped the memory over and over again, refusing to let go.
He only snapped out of it when he felt a tiny tug at the back of his blazer—light, hesitant, but insistent. Clark blinked rapidly and turned, confusion knitting his brow, only to see Komi gripping the hem of his jacket with both hands. Her fingers were tense, knuckles pale, and her expression was a mixture of desperation and relief, as though she had barely managed to stop a disaster.
"Komi?" Clark asked, blinking. She let out a long exhale and placed a hand over her chest, visibly relieved now that he had stopped walking.
"What was that all about?" he questioned, giving her a baffled look. He could immediately tell she was agitated—her eyes were slightly wide, her shoulders stiff, and she kept glancing ahead as if expecting him to realize something on his own.
Which he did… only after she pointed vigorously forward.
Clark followed her finger, looked ahead—
—and froze.
He had been walking straight toward the road.
Not the sidewalk.
Not the crosswalk.
Straight. Into. Active. Traffic.
Cars whizzed by the spot he had been inching toward, and a cold chill slithered down his spine.
"Ah," Clark said slowly as realization hit him "I see… That one's on me." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry for worrying you. I suppose this makes us even, no?"
Komi quickly shook her head—vigorous, decisive, absolutely not letting him say that. Clark immediately understood the meaning behind the gesture: It isn't about being even. I did it because I care.
Then, with slow and deliberate movement, Komi lifted her hands and signed carefully, "Are you okay?"
Clark blinked. "Whoa—since when did you learn sign language?" he asked, genuine surprise in his voice.
Komi's cheeks warmed into a soft pink. She avoided his eyes as she slowly signed, "I've been practicing… since you told me."
Her fingers moved tentatively, pausing here and there as though searching for the right sign. But before she could finish, Clark stepped in gently.
"You're trying to say you're not fluent yet, right?"
Komi nodded quickly—so fast her hair bounced—her embarrassment practically radiating off her.
Clark stared at her for a moment, an impressed smile tugging at his lips. "Still… that's amazing. You took the time to learn—not for a test, not because someone demanded it, but because you wanted to improve. That's something you should be proud of, Komi. You're working hard toward your goals."
Komi felt her stomach flutter at his words—like a tiny firework going off inside her. She managed to sign a small, rushed thank you, her fingers trembling slightly from the praise. But she quickly pushed her own feelings aside and repeated the earlier sign, more insistent this time: "Are you okay?"
Clark glanced away as they resumed walking. His hands slid into his pockets. "It's fine. Don't worry about it…"
That was a mistake.
Komi's expression immediately fell. Clark could practically imagine metaphorical cat ears drooping flat against her head—because that's exactly what it looked like. Her shoulders dipped, her gaze lowered, and her steps grew smaller.
Then, slowly, she pulled out her phone. Her thumbs tapped the screen with deliberate care before she held it out to Clark.
The message read:
"I know I'm not someone very reliable and I probably can't give the best advice… but I hope you can confide in me. You've always helped me. I want to help you too. After all, we're friends, right?"
Clark felt something tug at him—soft but undeniable.
Her words were simple in nature, but the sincerity behind each word struck deeper than any eloquent speech ever could. Looking at her hopeful, slightly trembling expression, Clark felt his chest tighten with a quiet fondness he wasn't expecting.
He sighed gently before reaching over and placing a hand on her head.
"You shouldn't put yourself down like that and saying you aren't reliable," he said softly. "Friendship isn't about keeping score or who helps more. I don't value you because of what you can or can't do." His voice softened even further. "What I value most… is your company. Your presence. Just you being you is more than enough."
Komi didn't just blush—her entire face erupted into a deep, burning red. She froze on the spot, buried her face in both hands, and trembled. She couldn't even look at him.
Clark couldn't help himself—he let out a warm chuckle, the kind that came from the chest rather than the throat. Komi's reaction was just too precious. The way she hid behind her hands, the way her shoulders trembled, the way she peeked at him through her fingers only to squeak and hide again—it all melted something inside him.
For reasons he couldn't fully understand, Komi had this gentle, quiet ability to soften him up in ways no one else managed. She didn't even try. She just… existed. And somehow, that was enough.
"You okay?" Clark asked, amusement still tinging his words, though his tone remained gentle.
Komi held up a hand—one moment please—as she attempted to gather what little dignity she had left. She inhaled, exhaled, pressed her palms to her cheeks to cool the heat, and slowly regained feeling in her legs. After a few deep breaths, she finally straightened herself, nodded, and resumed walking beside him.
Though her steps were tiny and stiff from lingering embarrassment.
Once she had calmed down, she signed again, more firmly this time: "Are you sure you're okay?"
Clark opened his mouth to give her the easy, automatic I'm fine. But the moment he met her eyes—filled with such genuine sincerity—he felt the lie lodge in his throat.
He sighed.
"For the most part, yeah," he admitted. "It's just… I'm starting to get involved with a troublesome person. And I promised myself I wouldn't get pulled into their mess."
Komi stared at him, her brows slowly knitting together. Her hands moved uncertainly before forming a question that made Clark blink, then bark out a laugh.
"Wha—?! Hahaha! No, Komi, it's not gang-related! Where on earth did you get that idea from?" Clark said, caught completely off-guard, "Hahahaha!"
Komi's face flushed a deeper pink as she quickly brushed her bangs down to hide behind them. She hadn't meant to jump to such a dramatic conclusion—her mind just tended to sprint ten steps ahead whenever she worried. Clark continued laughing, and though mortified, Komi felt a small flicker of pride at having made him laugh—her, Komi Shouko, who usually struggled just to communicate.
Unfortunately, their walk came to an end all too soon.
They reached her house.
And that meant…
Goodbye.
"I'll see you at school tomorr—"
Clark didn't get to finish.
The front door slammed open with the force of someone making a dramatic entrance in a variety show. Komi jumped at least two inches off the ground, her entire body stiffening as dread washed over her face.
Standing in the doorway, radiating pure unfiltered enthusiasm, was none other than—
Her mother.
"Oh my! What a tall boy you are!" Shuuko exclaimed, clasping her hands together before closing the distance with alarming speed. "You must be Clark Ayase! Shouko has mentioned you before—I've noticed you dropping her off from school practically every day!"
Before Clark could process anything, Shuuko seized both of his hands and began shaking them at a rapid, vigorous pace that made his entire upper body rock.
"Oh my, how rude of me!" she continued cheerfully. "Let me introduce myself! You can call me Komi Shuuko—and I'm Shouko's mommy!"
"Umm… hi?" Clark managed, voice uncertain as he tried to keep up with this tidal wave of energy. She looked almost exactly like Komi if Komi had shorter hair… and a personality that ran on endless batteries and sugar.
Komi, meanwhile, was frantically waving her arms in a silent panic—Mom stop please stop stop stop you're embarrassing me please stop—
"Oh nonsense! I'm not embarrassing anyone!" Shuuko chirped, completely ignoring her daughter's frantic pleas. "Right, Clark? Or would you prefer I call you Mr. Ayase?"
Clark froze.
He took a breath.
He politely adjusted his expression into something resembling a smile.
"Right… Clark is fine with me," he said through a forced but good-natured grin, desperately trying to be polite—because this was Komi's mother, and he absolutely could not afford to run away or accidentally crush her hand.
Shuuko beamed even brighter, still shaking his hands like she was trying to make butter.
Komi's soul quietly left her body beside them.
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