Chapter XXX - Something Worth Breaking For (VII)

Evening painted Yokohama's skyline in watercolor hues of amber and violet as the fading light caught on glass towers and turned them to gold. Below, the school grounds had emptied, the last stragglers having departed for home or club activities that would stretch into the darkness. On the rooftop, away from prying eyes, we sat in a silence that felt more comfortable than it had any right to be.

I leaned against the railing, my gaze drifting over the distant horizon where sea met sky in a hazy blue line. Minazuki-san perched on the concrete ledge nearby, one leg dangling over the edge with a casualness that made my stomach flutter, even though I knew she was in no danger of falling.

After the storm of the afternoon—Arisato's threats, the piano, the argument with Minazuki-san, the reconciliation with Akise—this moment of stillness felt almost surreal. As if we'd stepped outside of time, into a pocket dimension where nothing existed but the roof, the sky, and us.

"Do you really think Akise's plan will work?" Minazuki-san finally asked, breaking the silence.

I considered the question, turning it over in my mind before answering.

"I don't know," I conceded. "It's ambitious. Maybe too ambitious. But..."

"But what?"

"But it feels right. For the first time in a long time, I'm doing something because I want to, not because I'm expected to."

She made a noncommittal sound, somewhere between acknowledgment and skepticism.

"What about you? You didn't have to get involved in this. You could have walked away."

She shrugged, the movement elegant despite its casualness.

"I was already involved the moment Kanzaki sent me to find you."

"That's not a real answer, Minazuki-san."

"No, it's not."

Her lips curved into something almost resembling a smile.

We lapsed into silence again, though it was different—expectant, as if both of us were waiting for the other to speak first.

Minazuki-san shifted, drawing one knee up to her chest in a posture that seemed oddly vulnerable for someone who radiated such impenetrable strength. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon as she spoke.

"...I'm sorry..."

The words were so quiet, so unexpected, that for a moment I wondered if I'd imagined them.

"What?"

She sighed, the sound mingling with the evening breeze.

"I said I'm sorry for earlier. Pushing you about the piano... and for slapping you." Her fingers tightened around her knee. "I didn't know... I didn't understand what it meant to you. I was insensitive."

The apology hung in the air between us, fragile as spun glass. I had never imagined Minazuki Serena apologizing for anything, least of all to me. The girl who broke my nose and called me pathetic all the time, now looking almost small in the gathering twilight.

"You couldn't have known. I've never told anyone about my mother and the piano. Not even Akise knows the whole story." I said finally, making her blink in response.

“Still,” she insisted, meeting my eyes directly for the first time since we'd arrived on the roof. “I should have respected your boundaries. Instead, I tore through them like an opera singer crashing into a funeral.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me at the image. “A very glamorous opera singer, at least.”

"D-Don't push your luck, Kagami," she reddened and turned her head away, a gesture I was beginning to recognize as a shield. She was embarrassed. Or... something.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

I decided to spare her from further teasing. I wouldn't mind a more subdued Minazuki-san, so letting her feel comfortable being vulnerable was a must. I could definitely use this for my own benefits in the future, if only she would open up just a little more...

As for benefits... I couldn't help but remember the size of her—bad Shouma! Bad!

Suddenly, Minazuki-san reached into her school bag and withdrew a small plastic package.

"Here. For your face."

I took it from her, our fingers brushing momentarily, sending an inexplicable warmth up my arm. Inside the package was a fresh piece of gauze and a tube of antibiotic ointment.

"I noticed the old one came off during our... discussion," she explained, suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on her skirt. "It looks painful."

"Honestly... I can't say it isn't."

I fumbled with the packaging, endeavoring to extract the gauze with fingers that suddenly felt too clumsy for the task. After watching my struggle for a moment, Minazuki-san sighed audibly.

"Idiota, give me that. You're making a mess of it."

Before I could protest, she had moved closer, her knees brushing against mine as she positioned herself to examine my injury. Her fingers were cool and surprisingly gentle as they tilted my face toward the dying light.

"Close your eyes."

I obeyed instinctively, the command in her voice overriding any resistance I might have offered.

"This might sting," she warned before dabbing the antibiotic ointment onto my bruised skin with a feather-light touch.

The pain was there, yes, but it was nothing compared to the heat that bloomed in the wake of her fingertips. Despite that, I tried to lean away—a reflex born from years of treating my own injuries, of hiding weakness from prying eyes.

"I can do it myself."

"Clearly, you can't," she replied. Her free hand caught on my shoulder to keep me in place. "Stop squirming."

The ointment was cold against my skin, but her touch was careful, avoiding the worst of the bruising. I forced myself to remain still, hyper-aware of our proximity, of the faint scent of smoke and vanilla that clung to her uniform, of the slight furrow of concentration between her brows.

"There. That should help," she said after applying the gauze.

She didn't immediately move away. Our faces remained close enough that I could see the different shades of blue in her eyes, like fragments of a shattered sky. My pulse thrummed in my ears. I wondered if she could feel it beneath her fingers, which lingered on my skin, warm points of contact that seemed to burn against my bruise.

"Thanks," I managed, my voice emerging rougher than intended.