The next day's rehearsal started tense.
Akira arrived early, lights already set, script marked with new timing notes in red pen.
Sora arrived on time—for once.
She noticed the red ink immediately. "You stayed up late."
"Some of us prioritize efficiency."
She ignored the jab and took her spot.
They ran Act 2.
Akira's delivery was clipped. Sora's energy felt restrained.
During the wrist-catch moment, he released her faster than scripted.
Sora stopped mid-line. "What was that?"
"Adjustment. Keeps the pacing tight."
"That's not pacing. That's avoiding."
Akira didn't respond.
They reset.
Same thing happened again.
Sora dropped her arms. "Okay. What's your problem?"
"No problem."
"Bullshit." She stepped closer. "You've been weird since yesterday. Since the field."
Akira looked past her. "We have work to do."
"No. We have a problem to fix first." She crossed her arms. "If you're mad about Ren, just say it."
"I'm not mad about Ren."
"Then why do you look like you want to murder the next person who mentions his name?"
Akira's jaw tightened. "Because you're distracted. And distraction costs us the performance."
Sora laughed—cold. "Distracted? I'm here. I'm on time. I'm running lines. You're the one who's been icing me out since you saw me laugh with a friend."
"He's not just a friend."
Sora blinked. "Excuse me?"
Akira realized too late what he'd said.
Sora's eyes narrowed. "You think I'm—what? Flirting? Planning to ditch the project for ramen dates?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
Silence.
Sora took a step back. "You know what? Fine. Think whatever you want. But don't pretend this is about the performance. This is about you being jealous and too stubborn to admit it."
"I am not jealous."
"Then prove it." She grabbed her bag. "I'm taking the rest of the day. You can run lines with the mirror. Seems like you prefer that anyway."
She left.
Akira stood alone on stage.
He didn't chase her.
He told himself it was better this way.
But the auditorium felt too big without her voice filling it.
Later that evening he overheard two drama club girls in the hallway.
"…heard Sora got another scholarship offer. Tokyo. She's seriously considering it."
"Really? After all this work on the festival?"
"Yeah. Said something about not wanting to be second forever. Maybe she's done chasing Takahashi."
Akira froze behind the corner.
Done chasing.
The words sank in like lead.
He walked home in silence.
By the time he reached his room, he had convinced himself:
She was leaving.
She had already decided.
And the project—the partnership—was temporary.
He opened the shared document.
Deleted the note he'd added last week: "Sora's spin – keep. Works."
Replaced it with: "Revert to original spacing. Maintain distance."
He saved it.
v6.1
Then he closed the laptop.
And stared at the ceiling until the room went dark.