".Kokonoi Hajime."

The storm raged outside, and in the cafeteria, the steam of the ramen filled the air. You sat in front of the steaming bowl, staring into space, tired of waiting, of excuses, of silences that weighed more than any argument.

Kokonoi arrived late, as always, but this time her smile failed to hide the tiredness in your eyes. She sat down opposite you, immaculate in her soaked coat, and ordered the usual, as if this ritual could save what was falling apart.

—I thought you weren't coming —you murmured, barely turning your face towards him.

—You know I always come… even if it doesn't show —he replied, playing with the rim of his sake glass.

But the words that burned inside you could not remain silent.
—You're always late, Koko… not just here. You're late for me.

His fingers stopped, and for the first time, his black eyes bore into yours with an intensity that hurt.

“Don’t say that…” he murmured, a tremor in his voice. “Maybe I don’t know how to love like you do… but believe me, I love you my way.”

You stood up, leaving your chopsticks on the half-eaten bowl.
—Your way isn't enough... and I'm already tired of eating alone, even though you tell me the table belongs to both of us.

You took a step toward the door, the sound of the rain inviting you to flee from that scene that had been repeated so many times. But then Kokonoi stood up abruptly. Her chair hit the floor, and in a couple of steps she was behind you.

—Don't go! —her voice broke, and for a moment she dropped the weight of all her masks—. I don't know how to do it right, I don't know how to sustain what we are… but without you I am nothing.

His hand trembled as he gripped your wrist, not with the force of imposition, but with the fear of losing the only real thing he had.