Chapter 20 – Confession Sealed

The apartment was silent when Haru returned that evening. Too silent.

She toed off her shoes, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Aya’s words from earlier still blazed in her mind like neon:

She’s with me.

Those three little words had detonated inside her chest, scattering every defense she’d built. She hadn’t been able to think about anything else—not Shinichi’s awkward face, not the whispers in the staff room. Only Aya. Aya, who looked at her like she was something worth claiming.

She checked the living room. Empty. Her bedroom. Empty. Then she heard it—the faint whisper of night air.

The balcony.

---

Aya stood there, leaning against the railing, the city stretched out behind her like a sea of glittering stars. The cool breeze toyed with her hair, brushing strands across her sharp cheekbones. Her white T-shirt clung to her in the soft glow of the balcony light, and Haru’s breath caught hard in her throat.

Aya didn’t turn right away, but Haru knew she’d felt her presence. Aya always did.

When Aya finally looked over her shoulder, her eyes were shadowed but steady. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Haru stepped out, shutting the glass door behind her. Her palms were slick with sweat, her pulse a hurricane. “Aya…”

Aya’s gaze flicked to her, then back to the city. “If you’re here to tell me what I did earlier was out of line…” She exhaled sharply, her jaw tight. “I already know. But I don’t regret it.”

Haru’s throat burned. “Aya—”

“I’m done pretending, Haru.” Aya’s voice was low, fierce, like a blade honed to the edge. “If that means you hate me, then fine. I’ll take that. But I won’t sit back and watch someone else take what I—”

“Aya!” Haru’s voice cracked like thunder in the quiet night. Aya froze, eyes snapping to hers.

Haru stood there trembling, chest heaving, every word clawing to get out before fear could cage it again.

“I don’t care,” she said, her voice shaking but growing stronger with every syllable. “I don’t care about the rumors. Or what people say. Or… or what this means for our jobs.”

She took a shaky breath, eyes burning with tears she didn’t even try to stop. “I just… I want you too.”

---

The silence that followed was so thick Haru could hear the wind thread through it. Aya stared at her like the world had stopped spinning beneath their feet.

And then—slowly, deliberately—Aya pushed off the railing and closed the distance between them in three measured steps.

Her hand came up, warm and steady, cupping Haru’s face with a tenderness that made Haru’s heart shatter and bloom all at once.

“You have no idea,” Aya whispered, her breath brushing Haru’s lips, “how long I’ve wanted to hear that.”

Haru barely had time to gasp before Aya kissed her.

Not like the storm under the streetlight. Not like the impulsive, desperate claim that had left Haru shaking days ago.

This kiss was slow. Deep. Certain. The kind of kiss that unraveled every fear, every doubt, replacing them with nothing but warmth and want.

Haru melted into it, fingers curling into Aya’s shirt, clinging like she’d fall apart if she let go. The world narrowed to the press of Aya’s lips, the taste of her, the heat of her body sinking into Haru’s bones.

When Aya finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the cool night air.

---

Aya’s voice was a husky rasp against her mouth, so soft but so certain it sent shivers down Haru’s spine:

“Good.” A smile—slow, wolfish, and heartbreakingly tender—curved Aya’s lips as she whispered, “Because I’m never letting you go.”

Haru’s knees nearly gave out, but Aya’s arms wrapped around her before she could fall, holding her close as if she belonged there—because she did.

And for the first time, Haru stopped running from the truth and let herself drown in it.

Under the city lights, Haru clung to Aya and thought, wildly, fiercely, like a vow etched into her soul:

Whatever comes next… I’ll choose you.