Aira thought she was ready.
After everything—
the whispers,
the looks,
the way people loved to turn someone's history into entertainment—
She thought she could handle it.
But she wasn't ready for her.
Mira showed up right after last period.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just standing near the school gate like she belonged there.
Which, apparently, she did.
Reyhan noticed first.
Aira felt it before she saw it—the way his body went still, the way his jaw tightened like he'd bitten down on something old.
"Aira," he said quietly. "You can go ahead."
She followed his gaze.
Mira.
Standing there, arms crossed, watching them with a look that wasn't hostile… but wasn't harmless either.
Aira didn't move.
"No," she said calmly. "I'm staying."
Reyhan turned to her. "You don't have to be here for this."
"I know," she replied.
"But I want to be."
That stopped him.
They walked toward the gate together.
Mira's eyes flicked to Aira first, then to Reyhan.
"So," she said lightly, "this is her."
Aira didn't miss the emphasis.
"This is Aira," Reyhan replied evenly.
"And yes. This is her."
Mira smiled faintly. "She looks… steadier than I expected."
Aira met her gaze. "And you look like someone who didn't come here by accident."
Mira laughed softly. "Sharp. I like that."
Reyhan shifted slightly. "Mira, what do you want?"
She looked at him then—not with longing, not with anger.
With something unresolved.
"I wanted to see if the rumors were true," Mira said honestly.
"And maybe… warn her."
Aira's chest tightened. "Warn me about what?"
Mira tilted her head.
"About how heavy it gets when people start expecting him to change."
Reyhan stiffened. "That's not—"
Mira raised a hand. "I'm not attacking you. I'm explaining."
She turned to Aira.
"Reyhan doesn't break hearts because he doesn't care. He breaks them because he cares too much—and doesn't know how to stay when he feels trapped."
The words hung heavy.
Aira didn't look at Reyhan immediately.
She let them sit.
Then she asked calmly,
"And did you tell him that?"
Mira blinked. "What?"
"Did you tell him that," Aira repeated,
"or did you expect him to just figure it out alone?"
Silence.
Reyhan's breath caught.
Mira exhaled slowly. "No. I didn't."
Aira nodded. "Then this isn't the same story."
Mira studied her for a long moment.
Then smiled—real this time.
"You're not here to fix him," she said quietly.
"No," Aira replied.
"I'm here to walk with him while he figures himself out."
Reyhan turned to Aira, eyes unreadable.
Mira stepped back.
"That's all I needed to know."
She looked at Reyhan once more.
"You look different," she said. "Not lighter. Just… less alone."
Reyhan didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Mira turned and walked away.
When she was gone, silence rushed in.
Reyhan finally spoke.
"She shouldn't have said that to you."
Aira shook her head. "I'm glad she did."
He frowned. "Why?"
"Because now I know what not to repeat," Aira said gently.
"And what to do differently."
Reyhan's throat tightened.
"You don't scare easily," he murmured.
Aira smiled faintly.
"No. But I choose carefully."
They walked away from the gate together.
No hands held.
No declarations made.
Just two people refusing to let an old name decide something new.
RULE #34: Don't let her name change things.
Because the past only wins when you let it speak louder than the present.