Chapter 24 – Aya’s Past & The First Sight Reveal

The apartment was unusually quiet.

Haru sat on the couch, knees tucked up, fingers curled tightly around the cup of lukewarm tea she hadn’t sipped in the last ten minutes. Her mind buzzed, heavy with thoughts she couldn’t push aside anymore. The warmth of Aya’s gaze. The weight of her kiss. The way Aya never flinched, never faltered, even when the world whispered behind their backs.

And the one question that refused to leave her.

Why?

She heard the soft sound of the front door clicking shut. Aya had returned from a quick run to the convenience store. Plastic bags rustled in her hands.

“Haru?” Aya called out gently as she walked in.

Haru stood up. Her voice was quiet, almost afraid to break the fragile peace between them.

“Aya… Can we talk?”

Aya blinked. Then she gave a small nod, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. “Of course.”

They sat opposite each other at the dining table. No smiles. No teasing. Just the tension of something raw and real, sitting between them like a third person.

Haru swallowed hard. “I need to ask you something. And I don’t want a joke. Or a deflection. Just… the truth.”

Aya tilted her head slightly, intrigued but unreadable. “Okay.”

“Why me?” Haru said. “Why risk so much—for me? Your reputation, your career. Why kiss me on that balcony? Why… love me?”

Aya was silent for a moment. Then she leaned back in her chair, eyes softening with something like nostalgia.

“You really want the answer?”

Haru nodded.

Aya looked out the window, her voice turning quiet, almost hesitant.

“It was orientation day. The teachers' meeting before school started. You were late—your papers were a mess, and you kept dropping them. You apologized at least ten times in two minutes.”

Haru flushed slightly. “I remember that. I was a wreck.”

Aya smiled gently. “Yeah. But even while fumbling like that, you still smiled at every person who gave you a weird look. You laughed nervously, made a self-deprecating joke, and bowed three times to the vice-principal.”

“That’s not exactly flattering…”

“It was human,” Aya said simply. “You were… warm. So warm in a room full of cold professionalism and forced smiles. You didn’t pretend. You were nervous, honest, but still kind to everyone.”

She met Haru’s eyes now. “In that moment, I thought: She’s sunshine. Not blinding, not loud. Just soft, quiet sunlight that makes everything feel okay. I wanted to keep that close.”

Haru’s breath caught.

Aya continued, voice softer now. “Then we ended up living together. At first, I thought it’d fade. That crushes always do. But every little moment just made it worse. The way you sing to your kettle in the morning. How you fold laundry like it's an origami ceremony. How you always leave me the last slice of cake but pretend you ‘weren’t hungry.’”

“That’s not true!” Haru whispered, ears red.

“It is,” Aya grinned. “You didn’t even touch your tiramisu that night. I knew.”

Haru tried to scowl, but her expression crumbled. Aya reached out across the table, resting her hand over Haru’s.

“I fell in love with the way you live, Haru. Gently. Sincerely. That’s why it’s worth the risk. Because loving you doesn’t feel like a gamble. It feels like… coming home.”

Haru’s fingers tightened around hers, lips trembling.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I was scared too,” Aya admitted. “Scared you’d run. That I’d ruin what we had. But when you kissed me back… I knew.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Then Aya stood, walked around the table, and knelt beside Haru’s chair.

She leaned close, her breath warm against Haru’s ear.

“You’ve been mine since that day,” she whispered. “You just didn’t know it.”

Haru’s heart thudded so hard she thought it might burst.

When Aya pulled back, Haru didn’t let go of her hand. She stared at her—really stared—and finally saw it. All of Aya’s quiet patience. Her restraint. The way she never pushed, always waited, always watched.

She cupped Aya’s face.

“Then I guess… I’ll have to make up for lost time.”

Aya grinned. “I look forward to it.”

Outside, the evening city lights flickered like stars come down to earth.

And inside, two hearts finally beat in the same rhythm.