The Life We Pretended

episode 10

The silence from yesterday didn’t leave. It followed Aru into the next morning, settling somewhere deep inside him, not loud, not overwhelming, but impossible to ignore. It wasn’t the kind of silence that meant peace. It was the kind that carried questions, the kind that made every small thought feel heavier than it should. When Aru opened his eyes, he didn’t move immediately. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling that quiet tension sitting in his chest. “…I didn’t understand anything yesterday,” he murmured to himself. “…And I still don’t.” But something had changed. He wasn’t trying to run from it anymore.

He sat up slowly and walked to the mirror. The same reflection greeted him, unchanged, familiar, almost too familiar. He studied himself longer than usual, noticing details he had never cared about before—the way his hair fell, the softness of his features, the way his expression looked slightly more serious than it used to. “…Nothing is different,” he whispered. “…So why does everything feel different?” His hand lifted slightly, stopping just before touching the mirror. For a second, it felt like he was looking at someone else. Not because he didn’t recognize himself—but because he didn’t fully understand himself anymore.

“Aru.” His mother’s voice broke the moment. “You’re late.” “I’m coming.” He turned away quickly, pushing the thought aside, but it didn’t disappear. It stayed, quiet and patient.

At breakfast, the atmosphere felt tighter than usual. His mother watched him more carefully, her sharp eyes noticing the smallest delay in his movements. “You’ve been distracted these days.” “…Have I?” Aru replied, trying to sound normal. “Yes. Focus on what matters. Don’t let unnecessary things take your attention.” “…Okay.” His answer came automatically, but inside, it felt empty. Because he didn’t know what mattered anymore. Or maybe he did—and that was the problem.

When he reached school, he didn’t rush. He didn’t search immediately like before, but he also didn’t avoid it like yesterday. He walked normally, letting his steps guide him forward, but his awareness was sharper than ever. He felt it before he saw it. That quiet presence. And when his eyes finally lifted—Rei was there, near the window, exactly where he always stood. Their eyes met for a brief moment. No surprise. No hesitation. Just recognition. Aru didn’t look away immediately this time. He held the gaze for a second longer than usual before turning toward his friends.

“Aru!” they called, pulling him in like always. “You look better today,” one of them said. “…Do I?” “Yeah. Less dead,” another laughed. Aru smiled faintly. “That’s a weird compliment.” “We mean it in a good way.” They continued talking, joking, staying close around him. They didn’t question him. They didn’t ask about Rei. They trusted him completely. And somehow, that trust made it easier for Aru to stay calm. But it didn’t stop him from noticing.

Because this time, Rei noticed too.

During class, Aru didn’t force himself to look away. He didn’t force himself to look either. He just… existed. And somehow, that made everything feel more natural. But the tension between them didn’t disappear. It changed. It became quieter, deeper, less obvious—but stronger.

When lunch came, Aru stood up slowly. His friends looked at him, already understanding. “…Go,” one of them said with a small smile. “…You don’t even need to ask anymore.” Aru hesitated for a second. “…You’re sure?” “We trust you.” That word again. It stayed with him as he walked away.

This time, he didn’t rush. And when he reached the tree—Rei was already there. Sitting. Waiting. Just like always. But today, something about it felt different. “…You’re early,” Aru said as he approached. “…You’re not late,” Rei replied. A small pause followed. Then Aru sat down beside him. Closer than before. Not by much. But enough to notice.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence returned—but it wasn’t the same as yesterday. It wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t confusing. It felt… full.

“…You didn’t avoid me today,” Rei said suddenly. Aru blinked slightly. “…I wasn’t trying to.” “…Yesterday you were.” Aru looked down for a second, then admitted quietly, “…Yeah.” “…Why?” Aru exhaled softly. “…I thought it would make things easier.” “…Did it?” “…No.”

Rei nodded slightly, as if that answer made sense to him. “…I didn’t like it,” he added. Aru looked up quickly. “…What?” “…You avoiding me.” The words were simple. Calm. But they carried something real. Something direct. Aru felt his chest tighten slightly—not in a bad way, but in a way that made everything feel more intense. “…I didn’t like it either,” he admitted.

The wind moved softly around them, carrying a quiet stillness that wrapped around their words. “…Then don’t do it again,” Rei said. Aru let out a small, almost amused breath. “…You make it sound simple.” “…It is.” “…It’s not,” Aru replied, his voice softer now. “…I don’t understand what this is.” Rei didn’t respond immediately. He just looked at him. “…Me neither,” he said after a moment. “…But that doesn’t mean we have to stop.”

That answer stayed between them.

For a long moment.

Aru looked at him carefully now, noticing things he hadn’t paid attention to before—the calm in his eyes, the steadiness in his voice, the way he never seemed rushed or unsure, even when he admitted he didn’t understand something. “…You’re strange,” Aru said quietly. “…You said that before,” Rei replied. “…And I still mean it.” “…You’re not normal either.” That made Aru pause. “…I know.”

The honesty between them felt different today. More open. Less guarded.

“…Yesterday,” Rei said, “when you said it felt weird…” Aru tensed slightly. “…Yeah?” “…I thought about it.” “…And?” Rei looked ahead, his expression calm but more thoughtful now. “…It felt weird to me too.” Aru blinked. “…Seeing you with others?” “…Not exactly.” Rei paused for a second, choosing his words carefully. “…Not being the one you were looking at.”

Silence.

Aru’s breath caught slightly.

“…That’s…” he started, then stopped. “…I don’t know what to say to that.” “…You don’t have to say anything,” Rei replied. “…Just don’t pretend you don’t feel it.” Aru looked down, his fingers tightening slightly against the ground. “…I’m not pretending.” “…Good.”

The distance between them disappeared a little more after that.

Not physically.

But something deeper.

Something harder to define.

They stayed there longer than usual, talking about small things, random thoughts, things that didn’t matter—but somehow felt important when shared between them. Time passed quickly, almost unnoticed, until the bell rang again.

After school, they walked together like always. But this time, there was no gap between them. Their steps matched naturally, their pace aligning without effort. They didn’t need to adjust. It just… happened.

“…You’re closer today,” Aru said without thinking. Rei glanced at him. “…You moved closer first.” “…Did I?” “…Yeah.” Aru didn’t deny it. Because he knew it was true.

As they walked, their hands brushed slightly.

Just for a second.

But neither of them pulled away immediately this time.

They didn’t hold on either.

They just… didn’t rush to separate.

And somehow, that felt more significant than anything else.

“…This is weird,” Aru murmured. “…Yeah,” Rei agreed. “…But not bad.” Aru nodded slowly. “…Not bad.”

They reached the crossing again, but this time, the moment didn’t feel like an ending. It felt like a pause. Like something that would continue no matter what.

“…Tomorrow?” Aru asked. “…Tomorrow,” Rei confirmed.

That night, Aru stood in front of the mirror again. Same reflection. Same life. But now, he wasn’t questioning himself.

Not the way he had before.

“…I don’t understand this,” he said quietly. “…But I don’t want it to stop.”

Across the city, Rei sat by his window, looking out at the quiet night.

“…Neither do I.”

Two lives.

Still hidden.

Still unchanged.

But now—

The distance between them had disappeared.

And something stronger had taken its place.

Something neither of them could ignore anymore.