The sun beats down hard as I step out of school.
The day dragged by.
Too many introductions. Too many curious stares. Too many people asking questions I didn't want to answer.
I just want to go home.
I turn the corner by the gate—
And stop.
Kaito.
He's leaning casually against the wall, hair wind-tossed, a bandage on his knee, and that lazy grin that makes the second-years walking past me squeal softly.
What is he doing here?
"Yo," he says, tossing me a bottle of water. "Rough day?"
"Why are you here?" I ask, catching it mid-air.
He pushes off the wall with one foot. "Thought I'd walk you home while catching up on ten years' worth of stories. It's the one next to the inn, right? You looked like you might bolt during lunch. Thought maybe you'd appreciate a familiar face."
I narrow my eyes. "You watched me during lunch?"
He shrugs. "You're not that hard to spot. You kind of look like a cat someone dragged out of a rainstorm."
I turn away so he doesn't see the slight blush forming on my cheeks. "You haven't changed at all, either."
Kaito laughs. We start walking toward the inn.
"Really? Don't you think I've gotten more handsome? Taller? More mature?"
"You've gotten more annoying, that's for sure." I laugh.
"Seriously though," he says after a beat, "what made you want to come back here? Missed me that much?"
I consider the question. I don't want him to know that he faded from my memories with everything that happened in Tokyo. After all, he was a good friend back then.
And so I tell him.
Everything that happened in Tokyo—the good memories, the bad ones, the reason I moved back. And in exchange, he fills the walk with stories of Okinawa.
"It didn't really change that much since you left," he says. "But I do think the ocean got a bit more salty after the pool of tears you cried into it saying you didn't want to leave." Kaito smirks.
I glance at him and nudge his elbow playfully. "Screw you."
He smiles. That part about him hasn't changed at all.
His warm smile.