(V3) Chapter 12: The Most Complicated Thing in Universe

They stepped outside into the private balcony attached to the side of the condominium. The city sprawled before them—glimmering lights blinking across the skyline like quiet fireflies. The wind was cooler now, brushing their faces gently.

Takamine rested her hands on the railing, her hair fluttering behind her in the breeze, and her face, ever so defined and seamless, was slightly bathed in the glow of the city.

“I wanted to thank you. Properly,” she said, her voice softer now, more grounded.

Haru leaned beside her, keeping a respectable distance. “You already did.”

“No,” she said firmly, “I didn’t. Not really. I didn't feel like words were enough in exchange for the safety of Shizumi.”

She turned to him then, her expression unreadable under the dim light—but her eyes were earnest.

“I've never seen Shizumi that happy.” she started, slightly caressing the straight ends of her hair. “Dad would always scold me for not giving her enough of what he expects, maybe because we're too formal to each other as a family. Your interactions came natural, so she let out the side she barely showed anyone up.”

Haruki exhaled, absorbing the thoughts.

Their daily lives revolved around power dynamics, hierarchy and respect. Meanwhile, all other families operate in pure connections and compassion for each other.

“And I don’t trust people easily, Ishida.” Takamine followed up. “Especially not around Shizumi. But...you did something today that I can’t ignore. You protected her. Without hesitation. Without asking for anything.”

Haru shrugged, hands in his pockets. “You’d have done the same for someone you cared about.”

Takamine’s gaze lingered on him a second longer than necessary. “Maybe. But still—thank you.”

A moment passed.

Then another.

And just when the silence started to stretch too long, Haru spoke up, his eyes on the far distance, “You’re not as scary as you act, you know.”

Takamine blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, yeah, you’re sharp. Intense. But you’ve got that softness. It shows. Our brief interactions in the school only meant business, and I don't expect to talk to you on a personal level.”

Her lips parted—maybe to argue, maybe to deflect—but she didn’t speak.

She just stared at him, torn between annoyance and something gentler.

Finally, she muttered, “You talk too much.”

“And yet,” Haru grinned, “You brought me out here.”

Takamine’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“Don’t you mention what happened at Mukojima inn.”

Haru choked, and then let out a suppressed chuckle.

“Too defensive? Or too conclusive?”

A sigh.

Takamine rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “I only brought you here because I didn’t want Shizumi to see you get thrown out.”

“So you were protecting me?”

No answers. Just silence.

And when Haru turned to her, he gasped.

She came closer, and closer.

And pulled him to an embrace. Under the bright moon and stars, Haru never thought that anything this warm would happen between them.

She just rejected him months ago, and now, he was being held tight by the girl he thought he would not be able to love.

He can feel the warmth and supple contours of her body, the softness of her chest, her trembling arms and the raw vulnerability of the moment.

And her heart, warm and rapidly beating.

And maybe, this moment is better from being wild and bare unlike before. Because he finally felt Takamine’s essence of being free.

She chose to act like this out of her heart’s desire, not because she was desperate and curious.

She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. And held him tightly.

“I was saving her the drama of seeing this side of me.” she voiced against his body, muffled. "I was tasked to act independently, to care for Shizumi, to let her lean on me, to protect her. Little did they know I badly wanted the same thing too."

She grasped harder, her knees way more than buckling beneath her.

"I am trying to endure expectations...and try to keep a steady face. They want me to do what they only like, and not the things I like. I have no right to choose for myself."

Haru caressed her back softly, calming her. "So that's why you’re not very good at saying nice things, huh?”

“I’m not in the habit of it." she replied. "But to you, it felt easier.”

They remained silent for a few heartbeats before Haru nudged his nose against her silky hair emitting a sharp scent of crushed orchids.

“If there will be a day you'll be able to choose something for once, what would it be?”

Takamine lets go of the embrace, and wipes a stray tear from her eye.

She smiled, it wasn't as happy—but plaintive. But it was beautiful, she was beautiful.

It was as if diamonds were falling to her skin.

For the first time, Haru didn't see Takamine.

She saw a woman trapped in a cycle of others trying to decide for her, as broken as he is, but trying to build a fragile facade.

Time slowed. Enough to catch shooting stars.

“I want to choose love,” she simply admitted. “For it was the most beautiful thing I can never have.”

Stunned, Haru didn't speak.

Didn't reply.

He just listened, and broke his gaze and turned to the city.

The same went for Takamine.

They just stood there in silence, letting the wind clear the tangled feelings between them.

That second their eyes met, she was entirely different.

Not the sharp-tongued honor student. Not the overachieving guardian. Not the untouchable Takamine.

Just a girl, craving warmth in a world that gave her nothing but expectations.

And Haru—he felt himself fold under the gravity of it.

Not because he pitied her.

But because in that moment, he realized:

She wasn’t just choosing love.

She was asking if it would choose her back.

“Love is the most complicated thing in the universe. How are we supposed to understand that?”

Haru’s question remained in the air between them for a moment.

“By taking it slowly. You said it before. By real experiences and keeping a close connection. By dancing in the rain. By using my own failures. As long as it's real, we'll be able to discover it.”

Maybe it's true. Love can be discovered in shared moments, let alone knowing each other's flaws and weaknesses.

That kind of connection cannot be made just by skimming on the surface.

“Then let me make it easier—if you ever need help again, with her, or anything else... just say the word.” Haru spoke.

She tilted her head, watching him curiously. “Why?”

“Because despite everything...I don’t hate you.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“And I think,” he added, “part of you doesn’t hate me either.”

Takamine didn’t reply.

But after a long pause, she looked down, gripping the railing tighter, then whispered, just loud enough for him to hear—

“I never hated you, nor wanted to reject you that day.”

Haru turned, eyes widened.

It wasn’t just a confession.

It wasn’t just an act of forgiveness.

It was more.

It was worthy of a demand.

But it was enough.

For now.

“I understand.”

"What do you mean?" Takamine asked.

"You did say something, right?" Haru tilts her head in confusion.

“I don't remember.” she replied with a suppressed giggle.

She already playfully feigned ignorance. But it was not worth the effort to press the issue further.

Haru can't break the mood either.

“Come on,” she finally said, turning to the door. “I’ll walk you to the gate.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one walking you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

And yet... she waited for him to fall in step beside her.

Their shoulders brushed, just once, as they walked in silence.

But neither of them pulled away.