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.
Chapter 6
We walk side by side, the warm pavement still radiating sunlight beneath our feet.
Kaito kicks a pebble forward, hands stuffed in his pockets, not looking at me as he says,
"You really haven't changed that much."
I blink. "And where did that come from?"
"You're still like a cat."
I stop. "What's this sudden obsession with comparing me to a cat?"
He grins, slowing down too. "You really don't remember?"
I shake my head.
"You used to climb the railing outside your grandma's inn," he says, smirking at the memory. "All quiet, perfectly balanced, eyes locked on nothing and everything at the same time. The neighbor's dog would bark like crazy and you wouldn't even flinch."
My eyes widen a little.
That... does sound like me.
"And once," he adds, chuckling, "you stole an onigiri from my lunch when I wasn't looking. Sat under the porch and stared at me like you were the one being wronged."
I look away, pretending to be annoyed. "That doesn't make me a cat."
"Sure it does," he says, now walking a little ahead of me—backwards. "Besides, I always used to call you Neko-chan. Ren would laugh about it, remember? Calm on the outside, chaos if anyone gets too close. Moody, elegant, unpredictable—and you only come out when the moon's high. Just like last night."
"Shut up," I mutter, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
"And Mizuno," he continues, tapping his chin like he's thinking deeply. "Mizu, like water. Cats hate water—except you. You used to sneak off to the rocks alone just to watch the tide. Even back then."
"…So?" I murmur.
"So, I guess you're a water cat," he says, now walking beside me again. "Rare and hard to understand. But kind of beautiful, once you stop trying to figure it all out."
My heart stutters.
Beautiful?
I glance at him. His face is calm, like he didn't just say something that made my chest feel like it's filling with sunlight and seawater.
Kaito doesn't wait for a response. He just walks ahead, casually waving over his shoulder.
"Come on, Ayu-nyan. I'm starving."
"…Ayu-nyan!?" I call after him, horrified.
He just laughs.
It echoes in the breeze like a summer bell.
Then he turns back, and says—
"I missed you. Welcome back, Ayumi."
And continues walking forward, head leaning back on his hands.
I don't chase after him right away. I just stand there, hand against my chest.
Something's shifting.
I don't know what it is yet—
But it's like the tide's started to pull me somewhere soft.
Somewhere warm.