February 25, 2026. Ten days until the scholarship deadline.
Sora woke up to three missed calls from the Tokyo admissions office—follow-up reminders, polite but firm. She silenced her phone and stared at the ceiling until her alarm screamed.
Rehearsal was in three hours.
She arrived early for once.
Akira was already there, sitting cross-legged on the stage with a stack of new cue sheets, highlighters in four colors, and a thermos of black coffee. He looked up when she entered.
"You're early."
"Miracles happen."
He handed her a cue sheet without comment. The notes were in blue—her favorite color. Small changes: more space for her spin, adjusted lighting to catch her ponytail during the chaos metaphor.
Sora stared at the page.
"You… rewrote the cues."
"Improved them."
She looked at him. "You didn't have to."
"I know."
Sora sat beside him—closer than usual. Their shoulders almost touched.
Akira didn't move away.
They worked in near-silence for thirty minutes. The only sounds were pen scratches, page turns, and the occasional soft clink of Sora's bracelet against the stage.
Finally she spoke. "I'm still thinking about Tokyo."
Akira's pen paused. "I know."
"I got another email today. They want a final answer by March 7. No extensions."
Akira nodded slowly.
Sora continued. "If I say yes… I leave right after the festival. New city. New school. No more chasing rankings. No more… this."
Akira looked at her. "This?"
"Us. Arguing. Fixing. Almost touching. All of it."
Akira's voice was quiet. "You make it sound temporary."
"Isn't it?"
Akira looked down at the cue sheet. "I don't want it to be."
Sora's breath caught.
He continued. "I've spent years thinking second place was the enemy. Then I realized… second place was the only person who ever made first place feel worth fighting for."
Sora stared.
Akira met her eyes. "If you go… I lose that."
Sora swallowed. "And if I stay?"
Akira hesitated. "Then we keep fighting. Keep fixing. Keep… figuring this out."
Sora laughed softly. "You're terrible at feelings."
"I know."
She bumped his shoulder lightly. "But you're trying."
Akira's ears went pink. "Don't get used to it."
They sat in silence a moment longer.
Then Sora said, "I have until March 7. I'm not deciding today."
Akira nodded. "Fair."
She stood. Offered her hand.
He took it.
She pulled him up.
They didn't let go immediately.
Sora smiled—small, real. "Let's run Act 3. I want to see your terrible feelings in the blocking."
Akira almost smiled back. "You'll regret it."
They started the scene.
And for the first time in days, the tension felt like possibility instead of pain.