Walla and bridges
The next morning arrived too quickly.
Light spilled through the curtains, soft and indifferent.
I woke to an unfamiliar warmth beside me.
Takuya was still there.
Not moving. Just watching.
His dark eyes held something I couldn’t name—a careful patience, a quiet resolve.
I wanted to pull away.
But I stayed.
Breakfast was a silent ritual.
He made coffee without asking if I wanted any.
I sipped slowly, eyes on the window.
The city felt both endless and suffocating.
After Emiko left for school, I found myself alone with Takuya again.
Words caught in my throat.
I wanted to ask him how he knew.
How he saw through me.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I just sat.
He waited.
Eventually, he spoke.
“I’ve been watching you.”
I blinked.
“Not in a creepy way.”
His lips twitched, but he kept his tone serious.
“I mean… since we were kids.”
The words landed like stones in my chest.
“I never stopped.”
I didn’t know how to answer.
He reached out, his hand resting lightly on mine.
I froze.
Then, slowly, I let my fingers curl around his.
For the first time, the walls felt less like protection.
And more like a fragile beginning.