Chapter XXIX- Something Worth Breaking For (VI)

The voice shattered the moment like glass. Minazuki-san jerked back as if burned, scrambling to her feet—uncharacteristically clumsy. I pushed myself up on my elbows, turning toward the doorway where Akise stood frozen, eyes wide like saucers.

"A-Akise—" I stammered, feeling heat rush to my face.

"Ahaha! I can come back later," he said, already backing toward the door, oscillating between shock and something that looked suspiciously like amusement. "When you're, uh, less occupied."

"It's not what it looks like. We were arguing. She slapped me. We fell."

"Yes. Obviously."

"We were arguing. Nothing else!"

"Right. Arguing. Horizontal. Got it."

"..."

"Most arguments I've witnessed tend to end with participants in that particular position, definitely."

"Akise!"

He laughed, a genuine, full laugh that echoed through the room.

I scrambled to my feet, putting as much distance between myself and Minazuki-san as the room would allow. My heart was still racing, though whether from the argument, the fall, or... whatever had almost happened after, I couldn't say.

Minazuki-san was oddly quiet. Her face was turned away, but the tips of her ears were a furious shade of red. Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? Angry? With her, it was impossible to tell.

"Pervertito... Maniaco sessuale..." I heard her mutter.

Akise's gaze shifted between us, cataloging our disheveled appearances, flushed faces, and the palpable tension still crackling in the air. His usual dramatic persona seemed to have abandoned him momentarily, leaving him speechless.

For a moment that stretched into eternity, no one moved. The silence in the club room was thick enough to cut with a knife, punctuated only by our still-ragged breathing.

"...I should go," Minazuki-san finally said.

"No."

Akise stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Don't leave on my account."

An awkward silence descended again. Akise shifted his weight from one foot to the other, stealing glances between us with barely concealed curiosity.

"I didn't expect to find anyone here," he said eventually. "Especially not... well." He gestured vaguely at the two of us, a hint of his usual dramatic flair returning. "This is quite the plot twist."

"Nothing happened," I insisted, too quickly.

"Nothing was going to happen," Minazuki-san added, her tone just as defensive.

"Right. Of course." Akise nodded, clearly unconvinced. "You were just... discussing club activities. On the floor. In very close proximity."

"Not this again..."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm just surprised to see you both here... together in our club room."

The emphasis on "our" wasn't subtle.

The last time we'd been in this room together, I had betrayed him, abandoned our friendship, and surrendered to Arisato's demands. I'd walked away from years of shared history for the sake of convenience and cowardice.

And now I was back, with no right to be here, no explanation good enough to justify my return.

"Akise, I—"

"Save it," he cut me off, a shadow passing over his face. "I didn't come here to rehash ancient history. I came because I needed somewhere quiet to work on my light novel. But clearly, this space is occupied."

He turned to leave, his shoulders rigid with hurt that he was trying—and failing—to disguise.

"Akise, wait—"

"For what?" He paused but didn't turn around. "Another apology? You've made your priorities clear, Shouma. I understand."

The formal use of my name, stripped of his usual affectionate honorific, cut deeper than any insult could have.

"...That's not fair," I said quietly.

"Isn't it?" Now he deigned to turn, and the naked pain in look made me flinch. "You abandoned the club—you abandoned me—the moment Arisato applied pressure. You called my work childish. You implied I was living in a fantasy. And now you're here... what? Seeking refuge? Using the space until something better comes along?"

"I know... I know what I did. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I'm here now because... because I'm trying to fight. For the club, for us, for all of it."

Akise let out a hollow laugh.

"Us? There is no 'us' anymore, Shouma. You made sure of that."

Before I could respond, a sharp sound cut through the tension—Minazuki-san's palm slapping against her forehead.

"Merda, you two are insufferable!"

Akise blinked at her, clearly taken aback by her intervention. "This doesn't concern you, Minazuki. Just leave me and Shouma to settle this alone. This doesn't involve you."

She rolled her eyes so dramatically I was surprised they didn't detach and roll away.

"It does when I'm trapped in the middle of your melodrama," she barked before pointing at him. "You, are clearly hurt, and for good reason."

Then she pointed at me.

"And you feel guilty, also for a good reason. So instead of trading vague accusations and wounded looks, why don't you two actually talk to each other?"

We both stared at her.

"Well?" she demanded when neither of us spoke. "I refuse to stand here all day watching you two dance around the obvious."

Her unexpected intervention broke through the wall of tension that had built between us.

I looked at Akise—really looked at him—and saw not just the hurt and anger, but the loneliness beneath. For all his dramatic personas and fantastical claims, Akise had always been fundamentally honest in ways I never could be. He wore his heart on his sleeve, unashamed of his passions, fears, and dreams.

And I had trampled all of it.

"I'm sorry," I said, the words inadequate but necessary. "For everything else. For what I said that day. For walking away. For not standing up to Arisato. For being a coward."

"You hurt me," he said simply.

"I know. I can't take it back. But I'm here now because I finally realized something."

I took a step closer to him, then another.

"The Four Symbols Club isn't childish, neither is it a fantasy. It's a place where we can be ourselves without judgment or expectation. And I've spent so long trying to be what everyone else wants that I'd forgotten what it's like to just... be myself."

Akise's eyes widened slightly.

Nevertheless, I continued.

"Arisato tried to threaten me today. He said it would be 'kinder' to end things quickly and to give up on the club... on us."

I shook my head.

"For the first time in longer than I can remember, I said no. Because this matters, Akise. You matter. I'm done sacrificing the things that are important for the sake of peace."

The silence that followed was different than before.

Heavier, yes, but also more honest. Less brittle.

Finally, Akise spoke.

"Big words, but what do they actually mean? Arisato still has the leverage over us, and we still don't have the required members. Nothing has changed, Shou-ch... Shouma."

"I have. Isn't that enough?"

I had changed. I'd touched the piano again. I'd faced down Arisato. I'd fought with Minazuki-san. And I'd remembered, however briefly, who I used to be before grief and fear had twisted me into someone unrecognizable.

I was still a mess. Still broken in a hundred different ways. Still haunted by memories and ghosts I couldn't escape.

But I had changed.

And maybe... just maybe... that was enough.

"I don't know how we're going to save the club... but I know I'm going to fight for it this time. I want to stand with you, not against you. I want to be the Genbu that you believed I could be—the shield, the protector. I'm not doing this to try to please you or anyone else, I'm doing this because that's who I want to be."

I remembered mother.

"Who I should have been all along."

Akise stared at me, searching my face for... something.

Then his face crumpled.

"Shou-chan!" he wailed, tears springing to his eyes with a rapidity that would have been comical under other circumstances. "Do you really mean it?"

I couldn't help but smile. The sight of Akise's tears, so open, so honest, filled me with an affection I hadn't realized I'd missed.

"Yes, Akise. I really mean—GWAK???!!!"

Before I could fully answer, he launched himself at me like a small missile, wrapping both arms and legs around me in an octopus-like embrace that nearly sent us both tumbling to the floor again.

"I knew you'd come back!" he sobbed into my shoulder, heedless of the wetness seeping through my uniform. "The Dark Crystal Seraph never doubted that the Shield of the North would return to his rightful place! The cosmic alignment foretold it! The stars themselves sang of your return!"

I caught Minazuki-san's eye over Akise's shoulder. She was watching us with an expression that hovered somewhere between disgust and amusement.

And to that, I smiled weakly, patting Akise's back as he continued to cling to me like a particularly emotional koala.

"I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you! I should have had faith in the Prophecy! I should have trusted in Genbu's loyalty!"

"You have nothing to apologize for. I was the one who—"

"Dio mio, both of you just STOP!" Minazuki-san interrupted while throwing her hands up in exasperation. "No more apologies! No more crying! It's done! You're friends again! Can we please move on?"

Akise reluctantly unwound himself from me, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"Minazuki's right. We have more pressing matters to discuss." He sniffed, giving her a watery but genuine smile. "Though I must say, your intervention was most timely."

Minazuki-san waved him off.

"Regardless, how exactly do you two plan to fight for the club? You still need members. You still need a legitimate club activity. You still need to convince Arisato and the administration that this—" she gestured around at the streamers and posters and general chaos of the room, "—is worth preserving."

"She has a point," Akise admitted. "Even with your newfound determination, Shou-chan, we're still facing the same obstacles."

I merely gave a cursory glance at both of them before making about 100 different lines of ruminations in my mind.

They were right. Determination alone wouldn't be enough. We needed a plan, a strategy, and something concrete to counter Arisato's bureaucratic assault.

But before I could voice these doubts, a slow smile spread across Akise's face—the kind of smile that usually preceded his most elaborate and improbable schemes.

"Unless..."

Minazuki-san and I were drawn in, despite ourselves.

"Unless what?" I prompted.

Akise's grin widened.

"Unless we can convince Arisato that the Four Symbols Club is an indispensable part of Amane's culture."

"What are you proddling about?" Minazuki-san asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm talking about the Cultural Festival, a performance that will make the entire school—no, the entire district—sit up and take notice."

He turned to me, gaze gleaming with the feverish light I recognized from our childhood adventures.

"I've been working on a plan, Shou-chan. Just in case. Just in case you came back. If you're really determined—if you're really willing to fight—then I think I know how we can save the Four Symbols Club."

Despite myself, I felt a spark of hope ignite in my chest.

"So what do we do?"

Akise's smile turned mischievous.

"Let's put on a show for the ages."