The classroom buzzed louder than usual.
It wasn't anything dramatic—just the kind of restless energy that spread quickly once a certain kind of news reached everyone at the same time.
Rei sat at his desk, half-listening to the chatter around him, his gaze lazily fixed on the board.
At the front, the teacher adjusted his glasses.
"Settle down," he said.
The room quieted—slowly.
"I have an important announcement."
That was enough to draw everyone's attention.
"Starting next week," he continued, "your midterm examinations will begin."
A collective reaction followed—
Groans. Whispers. A few dramatic sighs.
"Already?!" someone muttered.
"That's too soon…"
"Your performance in these exams will be recorded as part of your academic evaluation," the teacher added. "Make sure you prepare accordingly."
Rei leaned back slightly in his chair.
Midterms.
A normal part of school life.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing worth overthinking.
And yet—
"…Of course it starts now," he murmured under his breath.
After school, the music room carried a different kind of energy than usual.
Sheet music still lay scattered across stands. Instruments rested where they had been left.
But instead of practice—
Books.
Notes.
Pens.
Miyu slumped dramatically over the table. "I hate exams."
"That's because you don't study," Reina replied calmly, flipping through her notes.
"I study!" Miyu protested. "Just… not effectively."
"That's the same thing."
Yuna sat quietly, organizing her materials neatly. "We can help each other, if you want."
Miyu immediately perked up. "Yes, please."
Rei sat at the piano bench, a notebook open beside him.
"…You're all taking this seriously," he said.
Reina glanced at him. "You aren't?"
"I'll manage."
"That's not an answer."
"It's enough of one."
Yuna looked at him softly. "…You usually do well, though."
"Usually," Miyu added, narrowing her eyes. "But this time feels different."
Rei paused.
"…How?"
Miyu leaned forward slightly. "I don't know. It just does."
Reina didn't speak.
But her gaze lingered on him for a moment.
Then—
"…You should still prepare properly," she said.
"Even if you're confident."
Rei closed his notebook lightly.
"…Yeah."
The conversation drifted into study plans after that.
Schedules.
Subjects.
Complaints.
Normal things.
But—
Every mention of scores…
Every mention of ranking…
Carried a little more weight than before.
That night, the Hayakawa residence was quiet as usual.
The halls were dimly lit, shadows stretching softly along the walls.
Rei sat at his desk, a notebook open, pen moving steadily across the page.
He wasn't rushing.
Wasn't stressed.
Just… working.
A soft knock broke the silence.
"…Come in," he said.
The door opened slowly.
Shiori stepped inside.
"…You're still awake," she said.
"So are you."
"I had things to finish."
"Same."
A brief pause.
Then she stepped closer, holding out a notebook.
"…Notes," she said. "From today."
Rei nodded, taking it from her. "Thanks."
This was normal.
Routine.
One of them would take notes at school.
The other would copy them at home.
It had always been like this.
Unspoken.
Effortless.
Shiori remained standing for a moment.
Then—
"…I'll wait," she said.
Rei glanced up. "You don't have to."
"It's fine."
He didn't argue.
The room fell into a quiet rhythm.
Pages turning.
Pen moving.
Soft breathing.
After a few minutes, Rei closed the notebook and handed it back.
"Done."
Shiori took it, placing it neatly on his desk.
"…Thank you."
Rei leaned back slightly in his chair. "…You didn't need to stay."
"I know."
"Then why did you?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
She reached into her pocket.
And placed something on the desk.
A brush.
Rei blinked.
"…What?"
"Brush my hair."
He stared at her for a second.
"…You're serious?"
"Yes."
"That's random."
"It's not."
"It is."
Shiori stepped closer, her expression calm as ever.
"…Just do it."
Rei sighed quietly.
"…You're weird sometimes."
"You've said that before."
"And I meant it every time."
Still—
He picked up the brush.
Shiori sat down in front of him, her back facing him.
Her long hair fell naturally over her shoulders.
Rei hesitated for a second.
Then—
Gently—
He began.
The brush moved slowly through her hair.
Carefully.
Without force.
"…You're being too cautious," Shiori said softly.
"I don't want to mess it up."
"You won't."
"That's easy for you to say."
A faint silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… quiet.
"…Midterms are next week," Shiori said.
"Yeah."
"You'll do well."
"So will you."
"That's not the point."
Rei paused slightly.
"…Then what is?"
Shiori didn't answer immediately.
Her gaze lowered slightly.
"…Nothing," she said.
The brushing continued.
Slow.
Steady.
"…Rei," she said softly.
"Yeah?"
"…Do you ever think about it?"
"About what?"
A small pause.
Then—
"…What happens if one of us wins?"
The brush stilled for just a second.
Then resumed.
"…I haven't thought that far," he said.
"You should."
"Why?"
"Because it's going to happen."
Rei didn't respond.
"…And when it does," Shiori continued quietly,
"things might not stay the same."
The room grew still.
"…They don't have to change," Rei said.
"That's not entirely up to us."
Another silence.
"…You're overthinking again," he murmured.
"…Maybe."
The brushing slowed.
Then stopped.
"…Done," Rei said.
Shiori didn't move.
For a moment, she remained completely still.
Then—
Slowly—
She leaned back.
Rei blinked slightly as her head rested against him.
"…Shiori?"
"I'm tired," she said softly.
"Then go to your room."
"…This is fine."
He hesitated.
"…You're going to fall."
"I won't."
A small pause.
Then—
She shifted slightly, settling more comfortably.
Her breathing softened.
Slower.
Quieter.
Rei looked down at her.
"…You really are tired."
No response.
He let out a quiet breath.
Then leaned back slightly—
Careful not to disturb her.
The room grew silent.
Minutes passed.
At some point—
Without realizing it—
Rei's eyes closed.
The desk lamp remained on.
Casting a soft glow over the two of them.
Notes lay scattered.
The brush rested loosely on the table.
And for just a little while—
Before competition.
Before results.
Before anything could change—
They slept.
The same way they always had.
Close.
Comfortable.
Unaware of how fragile that normalcy had become.