"Where was I…?"
Umire echoed the question softly, as if testing the words on her tongue. Her fingers stayed curled gently around Lena's hand, too loose to be a grip—too intentional not to be. "It's… complicated," she murmured at last. Her tone made it sound like that was a perfectly acceptable answer. Like Lena should be satisfied with it.
"Oh…"
Lena's response came out thin. She wasn't satisfied. But something in Umire's voice made her bite the urge to press. She didn't want to ruin this moment—whatever this was—with questions Umire didn't want to answer. What if asking made her pull away?
"You were probably worried. My bad."
Umire's voice suddenly turned light again, and she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. "One sec—I should've done this earlier. It slipped my mind. Here." She extended the phone toward Lena. "Put in your number?"
Lena hesitated, then took it. Umire, without asking, slipped Lena's phone from her hand in exchange.
"Your home screen's a cake?" she said with a soft laugh. "It looks so good. Is that the one you gave Luka?" Her voice was calm—too calm. Casual, but watching. Always watching.
Lena quickly input her number, then waited silently for Umire to finish. Her thoughts tangled.
We're exchanging numbers… so she wants to talk outside of school?
But if she'd wanted that, why hadn't she asked before?
Maybe this was just convenience. Just logistics. Just... superficial.
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to spiral.
"All done~!"
Umire's voice rang again, sweet as sugar. She clapped her hands softly, like a child delighted with a new toy. "Now we can talk anytime. Oh! We could FaceTime late at night like real besties!" Her smile stretched wide—Lena didn't know if it was real or if she just really wanted it to be.
She decided not to wonder.
That was how she would handle Umire.
She wouldn't look too closely.
She wouldn't ask too many questions.
She would let herself fall into whatever mask Umire wore, no matter how thin it felt. No matter how much it scared her.
Lena's phone buzzed in her hand. A new contact: Bestie~. One of only four numbers saved.
Umire peeked over her shoulder. "You only labeled yourself 'Lena'? Tsk. If someone sees that, they won't think we're besties," she murmured. Her hand found Lena's again—light, familiar now—as she slipped her phone away.
"Let's hang out today. Pretty please?"
Umire's voice was almost a whisper, sweet and pleading, curling into Lena's ear like smoke. "I missed you. I haven't seen you in more than a week… I thought about you a lot, you know…"
She reached out and found Lena's hand, fingers slotting through hers with practiced ease. It was so natural. Too natural.
Lena fell into step beside her, feeling like her feet weren't quite touching the floor.
And then, mid-step, Umire turned to look at her.
Her black eyes caught the light in a way that made them look too deep, too bottomless. There was something hidden there—something watching, waiting.
"Did you think of me?" she asked, softly.
Her hand tightened just enough around Lena's.
"Did you think of me at all?"
Lena froze.
That question—like so many of Umire's—wasn't really a question. It was a test. A thread stretched tight, daring Lena to tug on it, to see what snapped.
It was a question that asked: Do you still want this dream? Even if it feels like it might be eating you alive?
"Yeah…" Lena breathed. "Yeah, I did."
And it wasn't a lie.
She had thought about Umire. Far too much. Enough to start forgetting the edges of herself.
Umire's smile bloomed like a poppy—bright, beautiful, and dangerous if you got too close.
"But I thought you were gonna hang out with…" Lena hesitated. She couldn't even remember their names. "With the others…"
Umire waved a hand dismissively, her smile not faltering for a second. "No. I'd rather be with you."
She leaned in slightly, voice soft. "I missed you. I'd rather spend time with you than anyone else. Just the two of us. You're my bestie~"
The way she said it made Lena's chest ache.
Hand in hand, they continued walking, and Lena stared down at their interlocked fingers. Her thoughts were cloudy with warmth—dangerously warm. These were the words she had always wanted to hear from someone. Anyone.
That they would choose her.
That she was enough.
That she was wanted.
She could feel the seams of the dream unraveling, could hear the whisper in the back of her head that warned her this wasn't real, that it was too much, too good, too tailored to her loneliness—but she shoved it down.
This is what I want.
Even if it was fake. Even if it slipped through her fingers tomorrow.
She'd take it.
"Where should we go…?" Umire murmured.
They'd made it to the front doors of the school. She leaned casually against the wall, letting go of Lena's hand. Lena's palm still tingled from the contact.
"Any ideas?" Umire asked.
"I'm fine with anything," Lena replied, almost too quickly. She didn't want to sound like she was too eager—but she was. God, she was.
Before Umire could respond, a voice cut through the air.
"Umire!"
A group of classmates approached from across the courtyard, the same ones who had asked her to go to the arcade.
"You coming with us?" one of them asked brightly.
For a moment, Umire was silent. Then—so quiet Lena barely caught it—she let out a breath. A sigh. Not annoyed. Not tired. Resigned.
And just like that, her face lifted. A new smile slid into place—polished, perfect, presidential.
"No, sorry. I can't hang out today," she said, straightening from the wall like a marionette returning to performance.
"Aww, dang it," one of them pouted. "We finally get the class president free and now you're busy?"
"Sorry~" she chimed again. Her voice sounded hollow to Lena now—compared to how she had spoken moments ago.
Then a girl in the group tilted her head. "Who's this?"
All eyes turned to Lena.
She froze. Panic rose in her chest like water in a sinking ship. "Um… I…"
"Isn't that the new girl?" someone murmured. "What was her name again…"
And then—like she always did—Umire reached for her.
Her fingers laced with Lena's once more, and she lifted their hands in the air like some kind of ribboned trophy.
"Well, she would be the reason I can't hang out today," Umire said, smiling.
This time… Lena could almost believe it was real.
"We've got plans," Umire added brightly, already turning away. "Bye~! Come on, Lena."
And just like that, she was pulling Lena down the steps.
Behind them, someone muttered, "Why's Umire hanging out with her…?"
Lena heard it.
But Umire didn't look back.
And Lena didn't let go.
They walked in silence, hand in hand, until the school gates were behind them. The moment they stepped past them, Umire released Lena's hand and turned to her with a too-sweet smile.
"By the way… I have something for you," she said, voice light, fingers digging into her bag. "Ah—here it is."
She drew her hand out, closed into a fist, then slowly opened it in front of Lena.
A necklace. The pendant was shaped like half a heart, a jagged edge on the right side where it had been split. The metal gleamed with a dark crimson, swirling faintly with veins of black like smoke curling through wine. The letter U was engraved at the center in a looping script.
"This one's yours," Umire said softly. Then, she pulled out its twin—another half-heart, this one etched with the letter L. She held the pieces close, and with a click, the magnets in the pendants snapped together, forming a complete, sharp-looking heart.
"And this one's mine," she whispered. "We're officially labeled besties."
Lena just stared. Something about the metallic glint of the heart caught the light wrong, like it was made of something heavier than steel. Like it had a gravity of its own.
"Here. I'll put it on you. Turn around."
Lena obeyed, half-dazed. She felt Umire's fingers sweep her hair aside, the cold press of the pendant settling on her chest, then the soft click as the clasp locked into place. Her skin prickled at the chill, and she distantly observed that the pendant mustve been weighted as it it felt far heavier then a normal necklace..
"There." Umire's breath ghosted against her ear before she pulled back.
Lena looked down. The pendant rested just above her heart, its cold edge biting faintly into her skin. A strange warmth bloomed in her chest. She wasn't sure what.
"Okay, now you do mine!" Umire chirped, spinning and gathering her hair up in one hand. "Come on, hurry up!"
Lena hesitated.
There was something surreal about the exposed nape of Umire's neck—pale, perfect, delicate. A faint pulse danced just under the skin. The wind whistled, though there wasn't any wind. Her heart thudded too loudly in her ears.
She lifted the necklace.
Carefully, she slipped it around Umire's neck, fingers trembling slightly as she fastened it. When she let go, Umire released her hair, letting it fall back into place like silk.
"Now we're matching," Umire said, turning around. Her smile was bright enough to burn. "I always wanted to do this. And now I can."
Lena swallowed. "Umire…"
"Now," Umire said brightly, latching onto Lena's hand again, "where should we go?"
She tugged her along, muttering ideas aloud like they were planning something sacred. Lena followed in a stunned quiet. It was the first time anyone had wanted to hang out with her outside of school. Sixteen years, and this was the first time.
She should've been happier. Should've been… normal about it.
"How about the arcade?" Umire mused, before frowning. "Wait, no—Lia's group will be there. Never mind."
There was a strange pause after that. Then Umire snapped her fingers. "Oh! What about a café? We could study a bit—Mr. Yon said I need to keep tutoring you, remember?"
Lena nodded. "I'm fine with that."
Umire's eyes sparkled.
"Perfect. We can go to my place afterward and watch a movie or something. It'll be fun."
Then her grip on Lena's hand tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough that Lena noticed.
"It's a date then," Umire beamed, as if nothing in the world could ever go weong between them.
"To your house?" Lena echoed, blinking as if she hadn't heard right. The words sounded casual, but to her, they might as well have been an invitation into an entirely different world.
She had never been to anyone's house before.
Not for a hangout. Not for snacks or sleepovers or baking cookies in warm kitchens like the girls in class used to talk about between themselves. She used to eavesdrop on them laughing in the hallway, listing off movie nights and borrowed clothes and shared secrets—and pretend like it didn't sting. Pretend like she didn't wonder what it might be like.
Maybe she always told herself it would just be awkward anyway. That way, it hurt less to be excluded.
"Yeah! Or—do you wanna go to your house?" Umire offered quickly. "I don't mind either way. Though…" she paused dramatically, "I do really wanna see your place. Omg, wait—we could bake something together! Like brownies or cookies or those cute little animal cupcakes! That would be so fun!"
She let go of Lena's hand and skipped ahead, her steps light and carefree, like she was made of something that couldn't be weighed down. When she reached the end of the sidewalk at a crosswalk, she turned back around, leaning forward slightly, her long hair falling like a curtain around her face.
She watched Lena approach with an expression that was… soft, and bright, and unreadable all at once.
Lena quickened her steps to catch up.
"So," Umire asked, eyes locked on her, "what do you wanna do?"
"I'm not really sure." Lena hesitated. "I'm good with anything. I've never really… hung out with anyone after school before."
"Wait—really?" Umire's voice lit up, bursting with surprise. Then came a wide, sparkling grin. "So I'm your first? Like—your very first?"
Lena blinked again, her ears ringing faintly. "…Yeah."
Umire looked thrilled, though Lena couldn't quite grasp why. There was a strange kind of excitement dancing in her eyes—like Lena had just gifted her something rare and precious.
"You're kinda my first too, you know," Umire said, her voice softer now. "I mean, I've gone out with people after school before—group things. Club things. But not like this. Not one-on-one. This is the first time I've hung out with a bestie after school. You're the first best friend I've ever had."
Then the crosswalk light changed. She turned and grabbed Lena's hand again—without hesitation, without warning—and tugged her forward into the street.
Lena followed, heart stumbling, her fingers tangled in Umire's grip.
"I'm your first?" Lena repeated once they reached the other side of the road. She looked at Umire sideways. "You've never… done this with anyone else? Not just one-on-one?"
"Nope," Umire said cheerfully. "Not like this. It's always been surface-level with others. You're the first person I've wanted to spend time with like this. It just feels…right, you know?"
Lena didn't know. Her brain was stuck on the warmth of Umire's hand and the weight of the necklace on her chest. The pendant was cold against her skin, but her body felt oddly warm—like she was sitting in sunlight, but also a little too close to a fire.
There was something about the way Umire said it. So easily. So certainly. It made Lena feel like she'd stepped into a role she hadn't auditioned for. A lead in a play she didn't understand.
She murmured. "…Yeah."
"Baking sounds fun, right?" Umire asked, oblivious—or maybe not. Her voice was light again. "We could do that. Or we could go to my place first, and then make something at yours next time. It could be our thing."
Our thing.
The words landed gently. But they rooted somewhere deep in Lena's chest, heavy and hard to pull out.
She looked at Umire again, really looked—at the easy smile, the relaxed grip on her hand, the pendant around her neck that mirrored Lena's own.
And for the first time in her life, Lena wasn't just lonely.
She was seen.
Maybe a little too much.
Something bitter began to grow in the pit of her stomach as a certain person popped into her head.
"You really haven't done this with anyone else?" Lena asked again.
"Yep!" Umire chimed, her voice sing-song and sweet. "We're almost there. The café has really nice cakes—you might like it." Her pace was easy, her hand swinging beside her as she walked ahead, the street stretching golden under the fading light.
Lena walked slightly behind her, her thoughts dragging like weights around her ankles. Her fingers brushed the heart-shaped pendant around her neck—the cool metal still lingering with Umire's warmth—and her chest tightened without warning.
Her mouth moved before her mind could stop it.
"What about… Yuna?"
Umire didn't answer right away. The question hung awkwardly in the air, jagged and unwanted.
She kept walking, but her steps slowed. "Yuna…?" Her voice came, distant. "Well, yeah. I've hung out with Yuna alone before. But…" She trailed off, and Lena heard the shift. Her tone lost its lightness. "That's different."
Lena looked up at her, but Umire didn't elaborate. Her gaze was forward, expression unreadable. The silence after that answer felt thick and pressing—like walking into a fog. Lena wanted to ask how it was different. Why Yuna and Lena didn't fall into the same category in Umire's mind. What made this special. Or if it even was.
But she couldn't get the words out.
Umire turned to her again, too casually. "By the way… did Luka eat your cake?"
Just like that, she changed the subject—slicing clean through the tension.
Lena flinched at the question, caught off guard. "Yeah… I've been eating lunch with him and Sarah. And… Kai too," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. "While you were gone."
Gone. That word sat heavy in her chest, even if she didn't know why.
She hated how familiar this was. The bitter edge rising again. That ugly, gnawing ache. It always started the same: she met someone, got close, got attached. And then she wanted more. Too much. She started hoping—hoping they'd pick her over everyone else.
It never ended well.
"Luka said the cake looked old…" Umire murmured.
They were close to the café now—a small, tucked-away place nestled between taller buildings, its windows glowing a soft amber. Potted plants lined the entryway like little sentries. A worn wooden sign swung above the door. 'CAFE' was painted in pale script, half-faded from rain and time.
Umire slowed to a stop in front of the entrance. Her fingers brushed the door handle, but she didn't push it open.
"…Was that cake meant to be for me?" Umire asked quietly.
Lena stopped walking.
The world seemed to tip.
How… how did Umire know that?
Her heart thumped loudly in her ears. Her mouth went dry. "I… I made it when I baked the cookies. I didn't…" She stumbled over her words, fingers tightening at her sides. How was she supposed to voice out loud how she wasn't sure if—if Umire would think it was weird. Or too much. Didn't wanna come off as…Clingy. She always overthought every interaction to a painful degree.
She hated how small her voice sounded.
Why did she always do this?
Why did her chest always feel like it was splitting open when someone looked at her too kindly, or with too much distance?
"Why didn't you give it to me?" Umire asked.
Lena stared at her.
"I—" she began.
"Why'd you give it to him?" Umire's voice was soft, but something new had seeped into it. Something sharp. A bitter undercurrent that wrapped around the words like barbed wire.
Lena's stomach dropped. The dreamlike haze she'd been floating in—the sweetness, the necklaces, the matching pendants—suddenly cracked.
Just for a second.
And then, just as quickly, it was gone.
Umire turned to the door, her usual bright voice snapping back into place like nothing had happened. "We're here! Come on, let's order—I'm craving something chocolatey."
She pushed the door open.
Lena stood frozen for a breath too long, the air around her feeling too still. Her fingers curled around the edge of her sleeve again, pulling at the thread.
Then she followed Umire inside.