The streets were quieter than usual, the soft glow of the city lights casting long shadows along the pavement. The gentle hum of distant traffic and the occasional footsteps of passersby were the only sounds breaking the silence.
Keiko walked beside me, her hand still in mine.
I had no idea how we ended up . Holding hands. Walking in silence.
I should say something.
But I was too focused on how warm her hand felt.
The moment stretched between us, comfortable yet charged with something unspoken. I wanted to hold onto it just a little longer.
After a few minutes, she finally broke the silence.
“You’ve been acting a little different today.”
I glanced at her. “Different?”
She tilted her head, studying me with quiet curiosity. “Like… there’s something on your mind.”
I swallowed. “Well… there is.”
She waited patiently.
I stopped walking and turned to her. “Keiko… are you really okay? After everything that happened?”
She blinked, then smiled. “I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to worry about me, Ryuko.”
“I do worry,” I admitted, my grip on her hand tightening slightly. “Because… I—”
The words caught in my throat.
Keiko’s eyes softened. “Ryuko?”
And Keiko still didn’t know.
But standing here, under the streetlights, with her looking at me like that… it made me want to forget everything and just be Ryuko.
Just for this moment.
So instead of words, I gently squeezed her hand.
She smiled at me, squeezing back. “I don’t know why, but when I’m with you… I feel safe.”
My heart almost burst.
The moment stretched between us—quiet, warm, undeniable.
Then, suddenly, she giggled.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“You’re blushing,” she teased.
I covered my face with my free hand. “I—No, I’m not—”
“You totally are,” she laughed.
I groaned, turning away in embarrassment. “This is why I don’t get romantic…”
Keiko chuckled and pulled me back by the hand. “You don’t have to say anything, Ryuko. Just stay a little longer.”
I looked at her in surprise.
We continued walking at a slower pace, hand in hand. The night air felt crisp, carrying with it a sense of something new, something fragile yet precious.
After a while, I finally found the courage to ask.
“Keiko… about the old man. The boss...”
She let out a small sigh but didn’t pull away. “The truth is… he was never the real owner of Manna’s Kitchen.”
Keiko nodded. “He just came around to flirt with me a couple of times and I was just trying to be polite.”
I felt my jaw tighten. That old man…
Keiko continued, her voice calm but firm. “I’ve been working at Manna’s Kitchen for nearly ten years. Miss Manna really trusts me, which is why she made me the manager and gave me the freedom to run the restaurant as I see fit.”
I felt relieved hearing that. At least Manna’s Kitchen was a good place for her. A place where she was valued.
Keiko smiled fondly. “Miss Manna is like a good friend of mine now. She’s really busy and rarely comes by, but of course I give her reports every month.”
I nodded. That made sense. The real owner wasn’t neglecting the restaurant—she was just busy, trusting Keiko to handle things.
“But well… lately, her father started coming around and…”
She trailed off, her fingers tensing slightly in my grasp.
I could see it in her expression—the discomfort, the unease.
I stopped walking again and turned to her. “Forget it, Keiko,” I said gently. “What’s important is that it’s clear now. You don’t have to think about it anymore.”
She looked at me for a moment before nodding, her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah. You’re right.”
I smiled at her. “I’m always right.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled back. “Oh, sure.”
The playful banter eased the weight of the conversation, and soon, we were walking again, the warmth of our intertwined fingers grounding me.
But as we strolled through the quiet streets, a thought crept into my mind.
If I were Ryusei right now, would Keiko be able to open up to me ?
Would she feel this safe?
Would she… love me again?
I glanced at her—at the way her hair caught the glow of the streetlights, at the way her lips curled slightly as if she were deep in thought.
And right now, she was happy with Ryuko.
But I wasn’t just Ryuko.
And I wasn’t sure if she could ever look at me the same way again, if I was Ryusei.
I let myself hold onto her hand just a little tighter.