March 6, 2026. One day until the scholarship deadline.
The auditorium smelled of fresh paint and anticipation. The stage crew had worked overnight: fairy lights strung across the back curtain, fog machine tested, props polished. Tomorrow's preview performance would be the first time anyone outside the core team saw Act 3. The entire senior class had been invited—plus teachers, club presidents, even a few local reporters covering the festival.
Sora arrived at 15:30. She looked like she hadn't slept.
Akira was already center stage, running sound levels. He glanced up when she entered.
"You're early."
"Couldn't sit still."
Akira nodded once. "We run full dress at 16:00. Costume check first."
Sora climbed the steps. She wore the simple black dress they'd chosen for her role—chaos personified in flowing fabric. Akira wore a crisp white shirt and dark slacks—order in monochrome.
They stood opposite each other for the costume check.
Akira adjusted her shoulder strap—fingers careful, barely touching.
Sora's breath hitched.
He stepped back. "It fits."
"Yeah."
Silence.
Akira spoke first. "You haven't decided."
Sora looked down at her hands. "I have to tell them by tomorrow morning. Before the preview."
Akira nodded slowly.
Sora continued. "I keep thinking… if I stay, I'm choosing this. Choosing us. Choosing the mess. If I go, I'm choosing safety. No more second place. No more… wondering."
Akira's voice was quiet. "And what do you want?"
Sora met his eyes. "I want both. And I can't have both."
Akira swallowed.
Before he could answer, the side door opened.
Ren walked in—track jacket open, easy smile in place.
"Hey. Heard there's a preview tomorrow. Thought I'd wish you luck."
Sora blinked. "Ren. You're not supposed to be here."
Ren shrugged. "Door was unlocked. Figured I'd say hi." He glanced at Akira. "To both of you."
Akira's expression shuttered.
Ren stepped closer to Sora. "Look—tomorrow's big. After the show, there's the after-party. Come with me. As friends. No pressure. Just… let me celebrate with you. Whatever you decide about Tokyo."
Sora opened her mouth.
Akira spoke first—voice low, controlled. "She has rehearsal."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "Rehearsal ends at 20:00. Party starts at 21:00. Plenty of time."
Sora looked between them.
Akira's hands clenched at his sides.
Sora spoke quietly. "Ren… thank you. But I can't."
Ren studied her. Then looked at Akira. "You sure about that? Because if she says yes to Tokyo tomorrow, she's gone in a month. Might want to make your move before it's too late."
Akira's eyes flashed.
Ren smiled—sharp. "Just saying."
He turned and left.
The door clicked shut.
Sora exhaled. "He's wrong."
Akira didn't answer.
Sora stepped closer. "Takahashi."
He looked at her.
"I'm not going to the party with him. Or anyone."
Akira's voice was rough. "Then who?"
Sora searched his face. "You. If you want."
Akira blinked.
Sora continued. "Not as partners. Not as rivals. Just… us. If you can handle that."
Akira swallowed. "I can handle it."
Sora smiled—small, nervous. "Then we have a date. After the preview."
Akira nodded once.
They stood there—costumed, spotlighted, hearts racing.
The rest of the cast started arriving.
But for a moment, it was just them.
And for the first time, the silence felt like a promise.