(Ren's POV)
I started noticing him everywhere.
Not because he was loud or trying to get my attention—but because he wasn't. Yuto kept his distance in a way that felt deliberate, like he was respecting something I never clearly explained.
That somehow made it worse.
During class, he didn't lean over my desk anymore. At lunch, he only glanced at me once before sitting with his friends. And yet, every time our eyes accidentally met, my chest tightened like I'd been caught doing something wrong.
I was the one who asked for space.
So why did it feel empty?
—
"Partner up for the next assignment," the teacher announced.
I stiffened.
Names were called out one by one.
"Ren Mori. Yuto Kori."
A quiet murmur spread through the room.
I kept my expression neutral.
Yuto turned to me. "Library?"
I nodded.
The walk there was silent, but not awkward. Just careful.
The library smelled like old paper and something faintly sweet, like dust warmed by sunlight. We sat across from each other at first, books stacked neatly between us like a barrier.
"I'll check the references," I said, standing up too quickly.
"I'll come with you," he replied.
We stopped in front of the same shelf.
At the same time.
We reached for the same book.
Our fingers touched.
My breath caught.
It wasn't sudden. It wasn't dramatic.
Just… warm.
Yuto froze, then slowly loosened his grip, like he was giving me time to pull away.
I didn't.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"It's fine," I said, softer than before.
He smiled faintly. "You say that a lot."
I hugged the book lightly to my chest and walked back to the table. He followed.
This time, he sat beside me.
Not close enough to touch.
Close enough to feel him.
When he leaned in to point at a paragraph, his shoulder brushed mine. The contact sent a quiet shock through me, something light and dizzy.
He noticed.
"I can move if—"
"No," I said too quickly.
I paused. "…It's okay."
He stayed.
The room felt smaller.
Time passed without either of us noticing.
When we finally packed up, the sky outside the window had turned soft orange.
"Ren," he said as we stood.
I looked at him.
"I'm trying," he said simply.
My chest tightened.
"…I know."
And for the first time, I meant it.
—
That night, I checked my phone without thinking.
A new message.
Yuto:
Thanks for today.
I stared at the screen, then typed.
Ren:
Me too.
I lay back on my bed, phone resting against my chest.
Maybe distance wasn't about pushing someone away.
Maybe it was about learning how close I could let them get.
To Be Continued.