The walk back to Sunrise Heights felt different this time. The weight of the Shinozaki name, which had always felt like a heavy cloak around Rika’s shoulders, had finally been cut away. She was officially a "nobody" now—no family backing, no safety net, just a girl with a 7-Eleven vest and a tiny apartment.
As they reached the third-floor landing, Rika didn't immediately go to her door. She stopped by the railing, looking out at the city lights.
"They're going to make Mio go through the disciplinary hearing," Rika said quietly. "She’ll probably lose her scholarship. My parents will never forgive me for 'allowing' that stain on the family record."
Rentaro leaned against the wall next to her, crossing his arms. He looked exhausted, the adrenaline of the confrontation finally fading. "And Mio? What do you think she’ll do?"
"I think... for the first time in her life, she’s actually scared," Rika admitted. "But when I left, she looked at me. Not the way she used to—not with that 'poor Rika' look. She looked at me like I was a person. Maybe that’s the first step to her becoming one, too."
Rentaro reached into his pocket and pulled out two cans of warm coffee he’d grabbed from the store’s breakroom earlier. He handed one to her.
"You did the right thing, Rika. It doesn't feel like it yet because the 'right thing' is usually the hardest to carry. But look at it this way: you don't owe them anything anymore. You’re the only person in charge of your GPA, your shifts, and your life."
Rika popped the tab on the coffee, the bitter scent grounding her. "I realized something today. Back at the station... I wasn't just staying quiet because I was scared of my dad. I was staying quiet because I was used to being invisible."
She turned to look at him. "You’re the one who made me visible, Rentaro. You saw me when I was just a 'rival,' and you saw me when I was starving, and you saw me today when I was almost a ghost."
Rentaro looked away, his ears turning a slight pink. "I just didn't want to lose the only person in this city who actually knows how to solve a triple integral. It’s hard to find good competition."
Rika laughed, a small, tired sound. "Is that all I am? Competition?"
Rentaro went quiet. He stepped away from the wall, standing close enough that Rika could feel the warmth radiating from him. He didn't say anything at first. Then, slowly, he reached out and rested his hand on top of hers on the railing.
"No," he said, his voice low and steady. "You're the person who defended me at the store. You're the person who works the graveyard shift with me. You're... you're my moral compass, Rika. I think I’d be pretty lost in this city without you next door."
Rika didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she turned her palm up, lacing her fingers with his. It wasn't the fiery, dramatic romance of a Wattpad story—it was something deeper. It was two people who had been broken by the world, choosing to hold each other together.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. "I'm not going back, Rentaro. Even if it gets harder."
"I know," he whispered, resting his head against hers. "And I'm not going anywhere either."
They stood there for a long time, the only two souls awake in the building, watching the moon hang over the "dive" they called home. The rivalry was still there, the exams were still coming, and the shifts would still be long—but the paper-thin wall between them had finally become a bridge.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsA9EFEHcCg
and then Add to home screen.