15 — Yes, I do love her.

The days were getting a little colder now, but the breeze still rustled through the campus with a peaceful softness, it made the stress of the week melt into the sun-dappled walks amongst golden trees. It was nearly sunset when Ame Misaki took a discreet glance at her phone.

Sera had sent her a message.

“Final class just ended. Meet me? ♡”

Her heart tugged. She stood from her desk in the office of her faculty building, dusted down her coat, and left with the kind of uncharacteristic haste that would’ve baffled most of her colleagues. But by now, this tug-of-war between propriety and the pull of her feelings for Sera Tsukiko had become a silent rhythm to her day.

Sera was already waiting by the side entrance of the university’s vast and little-used botanical garden. The door creaked slightly as Ame opened it and slipped inside, and there she found Sera, the golden hour light glancing off her blonde hair. She was clearly not dressed for the weather and also kind of breaking the schools dress code today in a typical gyaru fashion, dressed in a pale spring cardigan, with a couple buttons undone and pleated black skirt.

Did she plan on meeting up with me like this today? Ame would wonder, the thought making her mind swirl.

She knew she should have scolded her for that outfit, but desire had won out instead. Ame bit her lip, her resolve crumbling.

“Look who showed up…” Sera teased, smiling up at her, voice barely louder than the quiet birdsong surrounding them.

Ame replied simply with silence and rosy cheeks.

They walked together slowly beneath the glass ceiling, where vines crept up metal frames and an entire jungle of green, lush foliage hummed with quiet life. Pale lilies floated in a shallow pond beside them, and every step made the gravel crunch delicately underfoot.

Sera bumped shoulders with Ame, teasing, “You’re getting better at this sneaking-around thing. I thought you’d at least text me twice to make sure no one would be here.”

“I checked the schedules of every club that might wander in,” Ame replied smiling mischievously as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s safe. Statistically speaking.”

Sera giggled, imitating and mimicking Ame’s voice. “StaTiSticallY speaking, we’re still being a bit reckless, don’t you think?”

As if that mattered to her right now.

“…So?…” Ame murmured, gently catching her hand, “…I missed you so much today.”

They stopped behind a leafy wall of ferns, just out of sight of the main walkway. Sera looked up, heart skipping—Ame’s gaze was intense, but not cold. It burned soft and slow, like a lit candle warming a quiet room.

Then suddenly—Sera gasped lightly as Ame leaned in, gripping her waist and lifting her up against the smooth wall behind the greenhouse’s inner corridor. Her back hit the warm stone with a gentle thump, and her legs instinctively locked around Ame’s hips.

“W-wait, Ame… n-not he—” Sera began in a breathless, panicked whisper…as if she hadn’t totally dressed for the occasion.

Their lips crashed together, and her voice vanished completely, Sera getting what she had wanted all morning.

Ame kissed her deeply, thoroughly, reverently. She held her firmly, like she’d been waiting all day just to press Sera into her arms, and in that private, fragrant space of orchids and climbing ivy, it was as though they were the only things in the world.

Sera’s hands gripped and tangled in the back of Ame’s coat, her face burning crimson even as she melted into the kiss.

And for a moment—it was perfect.

But they weren’t alone.

Just across the garden path, a quiet shuffle of steps stopped cold.

June.

She froze halfway through her shortcut to the university train station, a route she only sometimes took when the light hit the leaves right. Her mouth dropped open, eyes wide as could be behind her glasses. She saw them—Ame and Sera—locked in a passionate embrace, their hands entangled, lips inseparable.

A sound nearly escaped her throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth and ducked behind a thick pillar of marble, wrapped with flowering vines.

I knew it, she thought. I knew something was up! I KNEW IT!

She stood there for a long moment, heart hammering, trying to process what she'd just witnessed. She peeked out once more and then quickly darted away, blending into the maze of floral archways until she was out of sight.

Her room was quiet save for the muffled hum of the city beyond her window. June sat propped up against her pillows, still in her uniform shirt, legs pulled up close to her chest.

Her mind raced.

Sera and Ame.

She thought back on everything.

The odd excuses, all those the glances they shared, the time Sera showed up flustered during lunch. How Sera once blushed so red when Ame walked past their table.

“I can’t just… not say anything,” June mumbled to herself.

She closed her eyes, sighed deeply, and picked up her phone.

“Hey, Sera. Think I may have accidentally left one of my class papers with you after Business class? Could I come by tonight to grab it?”

There was a pause, and then Sera’s bubble popped up. “Huh? Oh… maybe? I was kind of juggling your stuff with mine earlier. Sure, come over!”

June stared at the message for a moment, then stood up, her hands trembling just slightly.

Her heart was thudding harder than it should’ve been.

It wasn’t the paper. There was no paper.

She just… needed to talk.

She couldn’t sit here all night knowing that the biggest, most secret thing in Sera’s life was suddenly not a secret to her anymore.

The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting gentle golden bars across the floor of Ame and Sera's apartment. It was peaceful—almost deceptively so.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Sera chirped, pulling on her light hoodie as she leaned in to kiss Ame on the cheek. “June’s coming over. She said I might have something of hers from business class.”

Ame, sitting cross-legged on her office chair, eyes focused on a paper she was grading, nodded. “Alright. I’ll be in here. Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, Sera exited to wait by the front door.

The knock came gently. Sera opened the door with a bright smile, “June!”

June returned the hug tightly, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Hey! Thanks for letting me swing by.”

“Of course,” Sera said, ushering her in. She moved to take June’s jacket, but hesitated just for a second. Timing it perfectly, she slid open the closet door just as June passed, hoping to keep things smooth. But it was too late—June’s eyes caught a glimpse of an all-too-familiar black jacket with gold embroidery hanging neatly on a hanger.

Ame’s jacket.

The breath caught in her throat.

It’s her. It really is her. She’s the roommate too?!

She felt her mind spiral. Everything she suspected now completely confirmed. Her body stiffened in place for a moment too long.

Sera glanced back, laughing innocently. “I know, right? The place is nice, huh?”

June blinked, stumbling over her words. “O-Oh! Yes! I can’t believe it—it’s so cute.”

Sera smiled warmly and gestured to the couch. “Sit, I’ll grab you some cookies! Want anything to drink?”

June sat gingerly, like the furniture might give out beneath her. “No, just water’s fine.”

As Sera passed her a plate of cookies and began searching through her bag, she asked, “Want to watch something while I look for your papers?”

June's hands trembled slightly as she reached for a cookie. “Sera…” she said, her voice quieter than intended.

Sera looked up, puzzled. “Hm?”

“It’s not about the papers…” June said, almost in a whisper.

Sera blinked. “Huh? What do you mean…? Then… why did you—?”

There was a pause.

“I…” June’s voice cracked. “I saw you… and Ame…”

Everything froze.

Sera stood motionless, still half-kneeling by her bag.

The words echoed in her skull as if the world had stopped spinning.

Saw you and Ame… Saw you and Ame…

“No…” Sera murmured, voice shaking. “What are you talking about?”

“In the garden,” June added softly. “I—I saw everything.”

Sera’s mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came.

Her knees gave out, and she sat down slowly, shaking her head. “June, it isn’t… it’s not what it looked like, I… I…”

Her vision blurred. Tears welled up before she could stop them. Her voice cracked mid-sentence, and everything she feared came crashing in like a tidal wave.

What if this ruins everything? She wretchedly thought.

My place at the school.

Her job.

Our secret.

She couldn’t hear June anymore—only the rapid beating of her heart and the overwhelming rush of panic crashing through her thoughts.

“Sera—hey, hey, it’s okay!” June reached out, eyes weary, grabbing her hands. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I swear. I just… I had to say something. You looked so scared…”

Just then, Ame—inside her office, pressed up against the door—heard their voices. Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t make out every word, but Sera’s cries, June’s urgent tone—it wasn’t good.

She pushed open the door and stepped out quietly, just as Sera collapsed forward into June’s arms.

“I-I’m sorry June. I didn’t mean for this to happen…” Sera choked. “A-Ame’s everything to me…a-and… I didn’t want to lie to you. I didn’t want to lie to anyone. But I…I had no choice!”

June tried to comfort her, rubbing her back gently. “Sera, It’s okay! You don’t have to try to justify yourself anymore! I know…trust me I know how you feel…”

“…You must love her so much…don’t you..?” June’s gaze was serious and intense, if nothing else she just wanted the best for Sera.

Sera paused.

Then, slowly—almost like breaking a dam—she cried out, “Yes I love her! I love Ame!”

Ame stood frozen in the doorway, the air punched from her lungs by those words.

Sera turned her tear-streaked face over her shoulder—and there stood Ame.

Her gray eyes wide with emotion, lips parted in shock.

“Ame…” Sera whispered.

June looked between them both, stunned for a moment. “Ame…”

Without hesitation, Ame quickly walked towards them.

She sat beside Sera and taking her hand. Her presence was a calm in the chaos.

“I love Sera too,” Ame said gently, her voice firm and true, locking eyes with June. “More than anything.”

The room went still again.

Then, June exhaled, a long, shaky breath before smiling faintly.

She started. “I knew something was going on, but I didn’t know how deep. All I can say is, now I am glad I was right…because now I know the true extent of just how much you care about each other.”

Sera exhaled. She closed her eyes, leaning her head onto Ame’s shoulder, trembling still.

June stepped forward, her eyes shimmering with the weight of everything unspoken. She opened her arms—not with judgment, but with the quiet gravity of understanding.

“Come here,” she said softly, a simple invitation that carried the heft of forgiveness.

Sera hesitated only a heartbeat before stumbling into her, her body trembling with a week’s worth of fear. She clung to June, burying her face into the crook of her shoulder as the sobs came freely. And then, without a word, Ame knelt beside them, folding herself into the embrace from the other side. The three of them melted into each other, bound together.

“I promise I won’t say a word,” June whispered, her voice trembling but sure. “Your secret’s safe with me. Always.”

Ame’s breath caught, her voice so low it was almost a prayer. “Thank you.”

And then, muffled through tear-stained fabric and a heart cracked open, Sera whispered, “I love you, June.”

June didn’t reply with words. She only pulled them both closer, burying her face in Sera’s shoulder. For a long time, none of them moved.

The silence didn’t need to be filled.

Later that day, sunlight spilled across the room, slanting through the open windows and bathing the bed in a warm glow. The world outside was beginning to hush—the distant hum of city life softening into silence—as if the day itself knew not to disturb them.

Sera lay curled against Ame, her body half-draped over her, head resting gently on Ame’s chest. The rhythm of Ame’s breathing rose and fell beneath her ear, each beat a lullaby. Their fingers were loosely interlaced, resting between them like a fragile thread of trust woven into flesh.

Sera’s golden hair was strewn like silk across Ame’s collarbone, strands catching the light like threads of fire. Her blue eyes blinked up slowly, drowsy and dreamy. In that moment, she looked weightless.

Ame smiled, trailing her knuckles along Sera’s cheek. “Well… I had a feeling this would happen one day.”

Sera rolled her eyes with a tired laugh, swatting weakly at her. “Shut up…”

Their laughter floated gently between them, not loud—just real. Just theirs.

For a while, they said nothing, tangled up in the golden hush, hearts beating in time. The room didn’t need conversation. It needed only the shape of them, fitting together.

Then, in a small, hesitant voice, Sera asked, “So… what do we do now?”

Ame didn’t answer right away. She pressed her lips to the crown of Sera’s head, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice firm but warm. “Together.”

Sera melted back into her, her face tucked into Ame’s neck, as though her body instinctively knew where it belonged. Ame's hand moved in slow strokes through her hair, each motion steady, soothing, anchoring.

Time passed without notice.

Then, with a breath that trembled slightly at the edges, Ame spoke again.

“Sera?”

“Mmm?” came the sleepy reply, eyes still closed.

“I meant to ask before all this… but…” She hesitated. “I’ve been invited to a family dinner this weekend. Would you… come with me?”

Sera’s eyes opened, lifting her head just slightly to meet Ame’s gaze. “A family dinner?”

Ame looked off to the side, her voice quieter. “Yes. It might be… formal. A bit much. But I want you there.”

There was no pause.

Sera quickly nodded. “I’d love to.”

Relief washed through Ame’s eyes like light through water. She reached up and brushed a loose strand of blonde hair behind Sera’s ear, her fingers lingering just long enough to feel the heat of her skin.

“Thank you.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the room, they lay together in a soft tangle of limbs and whispers, the evening wrapping around them like a secret. And in that quiet space between sunset and stars, the future no longer felt like something to fear.