The dawn broke as rain had begun softly—barely a whisper at first—before settling into a quiet rhythm against the garden bench, the leaves, the earth. Shiho sat at the far end of the long bench beneath a crooked old tree, her hands locked between her knees, back curled forward like someone trying to disappear into themselves.

She hadn’t moved since Hiro left.

There’d been no fight. No yelling. Only his words, spoken low and firm—like someone finally letting go of something heavy they’d been carrying for years.

Yuuta doesn’t have much time to live.

That sentence still lingered in the air around her, thick as the rain, impossible to ignore. She hadn’t said a word back then. She didn't know what to say.

She didn’t realize how long had passed until Sena appeared, walking quietly through the garden path, her umbrella dripping with rain. She didn’t stop until she stood a few feet away as she shielded Shiho from the rain.

“Shiho.”

Shiho flinched at the sound of her name. Her voice had been so quiet for so long, she’d almost forgotten how sharp another person’s tone could feel.

Sena stepped closer. “I figured Hiro wouldn’t tell me everything.”

Shiho’s hands curled tightly into her lap.

“So,” Sena said, “mind explaining?”

Shiho looked down at her hands. Rain gathered in the creases of her sleeves as she gripped her skirt tight.

Sena crouched, meeting her eyes, as Shiho spoke in fragments:

“10 years ago, I fell in love with Yuuta. Hiro, Yuuta and I were bestest of friends. But, one day, Hiro confessed his love to me. I still chased after Yuuta, and confessed my love for him and did what felt like a safer option for me. I just… didn’t want to go out with Hiro. I was scared.”

Her voice shook, “And one day, due to my selfish desire to push Hiro away, I asked Yuuta to come with me to a date with me. And… he got into that accident. He was walking ahead, I’d dropped my phone, I told him to cross, I thought the road was clear…”

She pressed her palms against her eyes. Her hands shaking.

“And even after all that, I didn’t show up to meet him. I disappeared.”

Sena twitched with anger.

“Thinking I was the reason he lost everything. I was too scared to stay. So, I cut everyone off. Hiro. Yuuta. I worked on my own. I kept trying to draw. To keep the dream alive for him. I taught younger kids. I wanted to do something— anything— that made the pain useful.”

Sena listened, not moving. The umbrella’s edge dripped quietly beside her.

Shiho’s voice grew thinner. “When I applied to this studio, I didn’t know it was him. But when I saw him… I thought maybe fate was giving me one more chance to help, even if he didn’t remember.”

“And you still didn’t tell him.”

Shiho looked at Sena. Her eyes were hollow. “How could I? He seemed to be better than he was. I didn’t want to break him again.”

Sena crouched slightly, eyes level with hers.

“You knew he was alive. You knew what he meant to us. And you chose to stay silent.”

“I didn’t want to hurt him aga—”

“You already did.”

The words struck without force, but they landed hard anyway.

Shiho stood, the bench groaning behind her. She wrapped her arms around herself like it might hold her together.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered.

Sena looked at her with glassy eyes, “You don’t get to say that to me.”

Shiho didn’t move. The rain, slow and constant, blurred her figure like a watercolour losing its shape.

Sena turned and walked away without saying any further.

“I guess I really am the villain in their story…” she said, voice cracking. “But I couldn’t help it.”

—end chapter 9