Kenta practically dragged us down the street, his backpack bouncing with every step.
"Trust me, this is the best part of the day! You'll thank me later."
Mei groaned behind him. "You said that about the last three stops."
"I did. And I was right every single time." Kenta spun on his heel dramatically. "This time? A theatre. Live show. Tickets already sorted. No complaints."
I exchanged a glance with Saki, who was walking beside me. She raised an eyebrow, half-amused. "Live theatre, huh?"
"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "Never been to one."
Saki smiled softly. "Me neither."
The small group fell into step, the chatter of the city fading as we approached the theatre's bright marquee. Kenta was practically vibrating with excitement, while Mei's expression was neutral but expectant, as if she already knew she'd enjoy it more than she wanted to admit.
I followed Saki into the entrance, the scent of popcorn and stage lights hitting me instantly. Something about the space felt… alive. And as I glanced at her, standing there with that quiet, observant expression, I realized I was already paying more attention to her than the theatre itself.
Kenta's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Come on! Seats are this way. Front row, my friends, front row!"
Saki laughed quietly, and I smiled, feeling the same strange warmth from earlier.
We hadn't even settled into our seats before Kenta was fidgeting like a kid on a sugar rush.
"Front row!" he whispered loudly, leaning forward so the people around us could definitely hear. "This is perfect! You'll see everything!"
Mei shot him a sharp look. "Keep your voice down. People are trying to watch the performance."
Kenta waved her off. "Relax! This is live theatre! Exciting! You're supposed to be excited!"
He leaned over me for a better view of the stage, poking my arm lightly. "Haruto, imagine if you were performing up there. You'd totally own it."
"I'd… probably trip over my own feet," I muttered, trying to shrink a little in my seat.
Saki chuckled quietly beside me. "You might surprise yourself."
Kenta ignored the exchange entirely, now whispering (or maybe not so whispering) commentary to anyone who would listen:
"Look at that costume!"
"Whoa, did you see that move?"
"I could do that better."
Mei groaned. "You could not do that better."
Despite his antics, something about the way Saki laughed softly at his comments caught my attention. It wasn't loud or attention-seeking—just genuine amusement.
And I realized I was paying more attention to her reactions than the actors on stage.
Kenta continued his commentary, completely oblivious to the growing tension inside me as I watched Saki's expressions. Every smile, every tilt of her head, felt like it had a subtle weight I wasn't prepared for.
By the time the first act ended, I was aware of two things:
Kenta was exhausting.
Saki was impossible to ignore.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, pretending to be casual, while internally reminding myself: It's just a show. Nothing more.
As the lights dimmed for the second act, a familiar face caught my eye in the aisle—Aoi, casually leaning against the seat back a few rows away, smirking like she'd planned this moment.
"Back again, huh?" she said softly, enough for me to hear. "You're really sticking to your outings today, aren't you? And still thinking you could've done better in that match yesterday?"
I exhaled slowly. "She's just joking," I muttered to myself, trying to focus.
Kenta nudged me with a grin. "Ooooh, looks like someone's causing trouble again."
Mei rolled her eyes. "Ignore him."
Saki, unaware of the tension, leaned slightly closer to me as we adjusted in our seats, her shoulder brushing mine. I felt that familiar warmth, but it was now tinged with the irritation Aoi's teasing stirred.
Aoi's smirk lingered briefly, then she turned her attention to the stage, leaving me to stew in silence.
I tried to focus on the performance, but my eyes kept drifting back to Saki.
Why does being around her feel so different today?
Kenta, oblivious as ever, leaned over. "Front row paying off already, huh?"
I swallowed, forcing a casual nod, though nothing about this felt easy.
The performance rolled on, actors moving gracefully across the stage, and I tried to focus on them. Aoi, a few rows ahead, occasionally glanced back at me, a faint smirk playing at her lips—but she didn't linger. It was more like a casual observation than anything serious.
Kenta, of course, was oblivious. "Look at that! Incredible, right?" he whispered loudly, making me flinch. Mei gave him a sharp look. "Do you ever get quiet?"
Saki leaned slightly toward me, her eyes sparkling with amusement at the same moment Kenta gestured wildly at the stage. "He's ridiculous," she murmured.
I laughed quietly, feeling that familiar warmth. For some reason, her closeness amplified everything—the music, the lights, even Kenta's antics.
Aoi shifted in her seat briefly, as if noticing our small interaction, but quickly turned her attention back to the stage. She seemed… distant, uninterested in really involving herself with me. It was just her way of observing, teasing lightly when convenient, but nothing more.
I realized that I didn't care. Every glance I stole was for Saki now, every thought drifting toward her smile, the way she leaned into the light, the soft sound of her laugh.
By the time the intermission arrived, Aoi was gone before anyone even noticed, slipping out quietly, leaving me with the sudden clarity that… Saki had my attention entirely.
The lights brightened slightly, signaling intermission. The low murmur of people moving around the theatre filled the space, and the scent of popcorn and coffee lingered in the air.
Saki and I stood up together, careful not to bump anyone. She glanced at me, tilting her head slightly. "Do you want to grab a drink? Or… just stretch a bit?"
I nodded. "Yeah… stretching sounds good."
We moved toward the empty side of the hall, away from Kenta and Mei, who were already arguing quietly over which concession line to join. The chatter of other audience members faded around us, leaving a surprisingly calm bubble.
"Not bad, huh?" Saki said softly, leaning against the railing and stretching her arms above her head.
I shrugged, trying to act casual, though my chest felt oddly warm. "Yeah… it's actually kind of relaxing."
She glanced at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You seem different today. More… present, I guess."
I blinked. "Different?"
"You know," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Not distracted. Focused. I mean, you're usually… a bit… somewhere else."
I laughed lightly, scratching the back of my neck. "Guess I'm enjoying this more than I expected."
She smiled, and for a moment, we just stood there, looking at the stage from afar, the quiet hum of intermission around us.
"I'm glad we came here," she said after a beat. "It's… nice to just… hang out."
"Yeah," I said softly. "It really is."
There was no need for anything else. No words, no gestures—just the small, calm connection of standing together, side by side.
As the lights dimmed again and the audience began to settle, I felt something shift subtly inside me. Today wasn't just fun—it was… different. And somehow, Saki was at the center of it.
The second act ended with a round of applause that filled the theatre. Kenta clapped the loudest, nearly standing on his chair, while Mei shook her head, laughing quietly.
Saki's smile was soft, a little tired but still warm, and I found myself watching her more than the performance. She leaned slightly toward me as we gathered our things, brushing past my arm naturally.
Aoi had already slipped out quietly, her earlier presence barely leaving a mark. It was just a brief reminder that she existed, but she wasn't important right now.
Outside, the afternoon sun felt bright against our faces, the city noises rushing in after the calm of the theatre.
Kenta spun around dramatically. "Next stop, people! And this time, no complaints!"
Mei groaned. "He's relentless."
Saki laughed, glancing at me as we fell into step together. The easy rhythm of walking beside her made my chest tighten a little, in a way I couldn't ignore.
I didn't know what the next stop would be. I didn't care.
For the first time that day, all that mattered was that we were together.
The sun had dipped lower in the sky by the time we left the theatre, casting a warm golden glow over the streets. The city felt quieter somehow, the afternoon rush fading into the calm of evening.
Kenta marched ahead, practically humming, while Mei followed at a slower pace, scanning the street for a restaurant that didn't look too crowded. Saki and I fell into step together naturally, walking just slightly behind the others.
"I'm starving," Kenta announced dramatically, making everyone groan. "The theatre only counts as an appetizer in my book."
Mei rolled her eyes. "You haven't eaten anything yet. That's the problem."
Saki laughed softly beside me, and I realized I was paying more attention to her laugh than Kenta's theatrics. The way the evening light hit her face, highlighting the curve of her smile, made my chest feel… tight.
We reached a small, cozy restaurant tucked between two shops. Warm light spilled from the windows, and the smell of grilled food and spices made my stomach growl involuntarily.
Kenta pushed the door open with a flourish. "Behold! Culinary paradise!"
Mei muttered something under her breath about over-exaggeration.
We took a large table near the back, giving us some privacy from the other diners. The soft chatter of the restaurant and the clinking of dishes created a relaxed, comforting atmosphere.
As menus were handed out, Saki leaned slightly toward me. "What are you thinking of ordering?"
"I don't know… maybe something simple," I said, though my eyes kept drifting to her. "You?"
She smiled faintly. "I'll probably get the same as you. That way I can steal a bite."
I chuckled. "Good plan."
The easy banter continued as we ordered, Kenta teasing everyone about what they were picking and Mei rolling her eyes at every joke. But through it all, I noticed Saki more than anyone else—the way she concentrated on the menu, how her laughter was quieter and calmer than Kenta's, how just being near her felt… comfortable.
The sky outside deepened into a rich, velvety blue, and I realized that the day had slipped past almost without me noticing. Theatre, snacks, laughter… and now this quiet moment, sitting across from Saki, felt unexpectedly important.
The food arrived quickly, steaming and fragrant. Kenta immediately dug in, completely ignoring any table manners. "This is amazing! I told you this place would be perfect!"
Mei raised an eyebrow, cutting into her meal neatly. "You said that at the café too."
"Details, details," Kenta waved her off. "The important thing is taste!"
Saki picked up her fork, glancing at me before taking a small bite. "It's good," she said softly, smiling at the flavors.
I nodded, trying to focus on my own plate, but my attention kept drifting to her. The way she carefully sampled each bite, the little hum of satisfaction she made—it was strangely comforting.
Kenta jabbed at my shoulder. "Hey! Don't zone out! You're supposed to be enjoying this, too."
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, smiling despite myself.
Mei, meanwhile, was silently enjoying her meal, occasionally rolling her eyes at Kenta's exaggerated reactions to every bite. "You're hopeless," she muttered under her breath, though the corner of her mouth twitched as if she was amused.
Saki laughed quietly at something Kenta said, a soft sound that made my chest tighten a little. I caught her eyes meeting mine for a fraction of a second before she looked down at her plate again.
The conversation flowed naturally, everyone contributing little comments about the food, the theatre earlier, and random jokes that had been floating around all day. It was light, easy, the kind of atmosphere that made the day feel… slower, calmer.
At one point, Kenta tried to start a mini debate about who could eat the spiciest dish, dragging Mei into it. Saki rolled her eyes, smiling at their antics, and I realized I was just content watching her react to it all. The way her expressions shifted with each laugh, each comment, made everything else fade a little.
By the time the last bite was gone, the evening outside had grown darker, the streetlights casting a warm glow over the sidewalk. Kenta leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "Best outing ever, hands down."
Mei shook her head. "You really do exaggerate everything."
Saki laughed softly again, and I smiled, feeling that quiet warmth I'd been noticing all day.
By the time we stepped out of the restaurant, the sky had fully darkened. Streetlights lined the road, their glow reflecting faintly on the pavement. The city felt quieter now, like it was easing into the night.
Kenta stretched his arms overhead. "Man… I'm exhausted. But totally worth it."
Mei checked the time on her phone. "If we don't head back soon, we're going to miss the next train."
"Alright, alright," Kenta said, already turning toward the station. "Mission accomplished."
The walk back was slower than before. No rushing, no excitement pushing us forward. Just tired legs and lingering warmth from a day well spent. Saki walked beside me, her steps matching mine without either of us trying.
The train ride home was quieter than the one earlier. Kenta dozed off almost immediately, his head tilted awkwardly to one side. Mei stared out the window, earbuds in, completely at peace. I stood beside Saki, holding the strap above us, the gentle sway of the train rocking everything into stillness.
Neither of us spoke much. We didn't need to.
When we got off at our station, the night air felt cool and familiar. The streets were quiet, lit by the soft glow of streetlights that made everything look slower, calmer.
Kenta yawned loudly. "I'm dead. I'm going straight to bed."
Mei laughed. "Same. See you tomorrow."
They headed off first, their voices fading as they disappeared down the road.
Saki and I walked side by side, like we always did. Our houses were already in sight, sitting right next to each other at the end of the street. It was such a normal view that I almost didn't think about it.
Almost.
"Today was fun," Saki said, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," I replied. "It really was."
She glanced at me, smiling softly. Not the bright, energetic smile she showed everyone else. This one felt quieter. Just for the moment.
We stopped in front of our houses at the same time.
For a second, neither of us moved.
"Good night, Haruto," she said.
"Good night, Saki."
She took a step toward her door, then paused, like she wanted to say something more. In the end, she just gave a small wave and went inside.
I stood there a little longer than I needed to, staring at her closed door before unlocking mine.
Later that night, lying in bed, I couldn't stop replaying the day. The café. The theatre. Dinner. The way she'd walked beside me the whole time, like it was natural. Like it was always meant to be that way.
Living next door suddenly didn't feel like a coincidence anymore.
And that realization made my chest feel strangely tight as I closed my eyes.