---
It was a sunny afternoon—bright, deceptively peaceful.
Mika stood outside the school gates, gripping her phone tightly. Her hands trembled, not from the cold, but from the message she'd just received.
Harukoo was back.
He wasn't coming back to her.
But he had returned—to school, to life, to someone else.
She didn't believe the rumors at first.
Harukoo?
The quiet guy she used to ignore?
Her forgotten shadow?
Dating Silva, the school's transfer beauty?
Impossible.
Until she saw it.
They had been walking down the hallway, his arm lazily slung around Silva's shoulders. He smiled at her—genuinely. Like he used to try and smile at Mika.
Silva had leaned up to whisper something in his ear.
He chuckled.
Not just a polite laugh—he genuinely laughed.
It was the first time Mika realized…
She had never heard that laugh before.
Not when she was around him.
Not even once.
The Confrontation
Later that day, she saw them behind the school building, where couples sometimes met to avoid crowds.
Silva had pulled him in for a kiss—slow, soft, possessive.
It wasn't rushed or awkward.
It was a kiss shared between people who belonged to each other.
And that's when Mika snapped.
"You're really dating her?"
Her voice sliced through the air.
Harukoo looked up, calm but unreadable.
Silva raised an eyebrow, but didn't move away. She laced her fingers with his instead.
Mika's chest heaved.
"Her? Really?"
Harukoo tilted his head slightly. "I don't owe you an explanation."
Silva smirked, but stayed silent.
Mika took a step forward. "You're doing this to hurt me, aren't you?"
He blinked slowly. "Do you think everything revolves around you?"
She froze.
"Let me guess," he said, voice suddenly sharper, "you finally noticed me the moment someone else did. Convenient."
"That's not—" Her voice cracked. "I cared about you, Harukoo."
"You cared?" His voice stayed calm, but something flared in his eyes. "You cared so much, you dated a guy who only wanted your body."
Mika flinched.
"How do you—?"
"I was the one who saved you, Mika." His words dropped like stones. "Not that senior. He ran off after seeing the trouble. I was the one who stepped in."
Silence.
Absolute, devastating silence.
Mika staggered backward.
She remembered that night—the fear, the alleyway, the comforting hand she thought belonged to the senior she idolized.
But… the grip had been stronger. The voice had been softer. The words—
"You're safe now."
It was him.
Harukoo.
"You never even looked at me," he said, voice quieter now. "Not really. And when I needed someone—anyone—you looked away."
Mika's eyes flooded. "I was scared. I didn't know how to—"
"I did," he interrupted. "I knew how it felt to be scared. To be forgotten. And I still helped you."
She reached out, desperate. "Please, Harukoo. Just… talk to me. Just once."
He took a step back.
Silva finally spoke. "He doesn't belong to you anymore."
Mika turned to her, face pale. "You don't even know him like I do—"
"Maybe not the old him," Silva said coolly. "But this version? This man? I know exactly who he is."
She leaned into Harukoo's side.
"He's mine now."
Mika dropped her hand.
Reality hit her harder than any slap.
Harukoo wasn't trying to hurt her.
He just didn't need her anymore.
She left without another word.
But her steps were uneven. Her chest felt hollow.
And as she passed through the gates, she realized…
She was now the ghost in someone else's memory.
---