With October coming soon, the deadline the art teacher had imposed on her students was drawing to a close.

Surprisingly, her grandmother hadn't dug too deep when Hana had asked permission to stay after school to finish her art project with Ejiro Igarashi. She had expected to have to turn heaven and earth in order for her grandma to accept, yet the sixty-something had offered no resistance. The brief explanation her granddaughter had given her, for once, was enough to lower her guard. Hana didn't complain, although she couldn't help finding it suspicious. Since when had the old woman been so understanding towards her?

For a little, the skater almost felt bad for having – partially - lied to her. It was true that Hana had spent a good part of the afternoon refining up her charcoal self-portrait portfolio, but she hadn't done it at school, nor in Igarashi's company.

Using the mirror in front of her, Hana readjusted her hair one last time. She checked that her shirt was buttoned up and tucked into her uniform skirt, and once she was sure of this, the young woman swiveled in the direction of the person carelessly seated on the desk chair. Her gaze caught the translucent eyes that watched her intently, still reading the remnants of lust floating there. Not without effort, the young woman managed - this time - to ignore them and repeated the sentence she had uttered half an hour ago.

-—'ll be off now, announced Hana calmly, noting the late hour of the evening. Thanks again for your help, Akaashi.

—Hey, aren't you forgetting somethin'?

Hana froze, not understanding the meaning of his sentence. Or rather, she feared she'd misunderstood. Her fatigue was such that her mind easily wandered, and a misinterpretation of the situation was not hard to come by.

Seeing the interrogation floating in her eyes, the young man couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. He didn't comment, however, choosing to clarify his thoughts instead. Keisuke lazily rose from his chair. At arm's length, he reached for the portfolio lying on the piano flap. In a few strides, the boy reached the pretty brunette, standing at the entrance to her room, and handed her the possession she had almost forgotten.

—I was talking about this, he said mockingly, waving the folder. It'd be a shame to leave it here after all the time and effort spent on it.

—Oh.

Hana cursed herself for her lack of concentration. Lately, her mind had really been elsewhere. She often left an assignment at home or lost some of her personal belongings. All this training and competition were exhausting her, both physically and mentally, not to mention the lovely anxiety that was growing inside her as the fateful date approached. This, combined with her cruel lack of sleep, was not helping her situation.

—I'm so absent-minded, she apologized, gratefully taking hold of the portfolio. Thank God you're here. Thanks again for the help.

The young man didn't answer immediately, taking the time to put his now free hands back into his pockets. What his companion had just said came as no surprise to him. Aside from her tired look and paler-than-usual cheeks, Keisuke could tell that something was bothering her. He sensed she was more distant, less anchored in the present. She listened less. Barely replied. Played nervously with her fingers whenever she had the chance. All this was a significant number of indications that something wasn't quite right, and while he'd initially thought it was due to the pressure of figure skating, his intuition told him it was something else.

Something she'd preferred not to share with him.

Not that there was anything wrong with that. Quite the opposite, in fact. Everyone has a chapter of their life they wouldn't read aloud, him being the first. He simply wanted to understand what had put her in such a fragile state. The hypotheses rattling around in his head were beginning to annoy him.

—Don't forget to sort out the files, warned Keisuke, lightening the mood.

His reply had the desired effect, as Hana's face relaxed a little. He even managed to wring a semblance of laughter from her.

—I'd better not forget this, she replied, clutching the portfolio tighter to her heart.

Inside the document, there were sketches of her, some for the assignment, others she'd rather keep secret. The kind Amano had laughingly suggested a few days earlier had finally come to life, but no one needed to know that. It was better this way, if they wanted to remain discreet. All the drawings had obviously been done by the expert hand of the boy in front of her who, once again, had proved how good of an artist he was. His artistic talent would always amaze her.

—tell me... are you sure you're all right?

Hana held her breath. Unconsciously, every muscle in her body tensed at that simple question. The urge to deny everything was her first thought, but the urge to spill her guts followed right behind. But she didn't feel ready to accept this second option, and in spite of herself, a nervous laugh went through her in the hope of sweeping away all questioning.

—Why wouldn't I be? Asked the brunette in return, in a tone intended to be light. I'm just a bit stressed, she conceded, offering him the semblance of a reassuring smile. That's all.

He didn't reply, merely giving her an unconvinced look. Silence fell again, leaving Hana more confused than she already was. He'd just set her up. This was not like him. The young man wasn't the type to bother with other people's problems. Why did he suddenly seem so preoccupied? No, Hana thought. She was imagining things. The only reason he seemed worried, if his state could be called "worried", had to be in fact curiosity. Yes, that's right. Just curiosity. Nevertheless...

—What makes you say that? Ventured the brunette.

—You...

The rest of his sentence died in his throat. His gaze focused on her, and Hana barely had time to blink before he had broken the small distance between them, plunging his head into the hollow of her neck. Breathless at the sudden closeness she hadn't anticipated, Hana was left speechless. A shiver ran through her. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but her mouth remained resolutely closed. Against her collarbone, Hana felt some strands of his hair brush against her, and just as she thought he was about to brush the skin of her neck with his lips, Keisuke pulled away again, as quickly as he had approached and without further explanation. His body warmth suddenly disappeared, and a long shiver ran through her again.

—As I thought so, he finally said in a low voice.

He didn't realize the turmoil he'd just caused her, so focused was he on the new information he'd just confirmed. Information that had made him wrinkle his nose and squint his eyes.

—You smell smoke, Hana. It's not like you.

Silence. There was no hint of reproach in his tone. He'd made his observation as one would observe bad weather through a window, with simplicity. As if it didn't really matter what he was talking about. So why, why did she feel such an irrepressible need to justify herself? As if she had something to make up for? It just didn't make sense. However...

Before she could realize it, her lips twitched, moved by the reflex that was theirs: to deflect from the truth. Lie.

—Do I have to remind you that you smoke at all hours of the day? She asked, letting out another nervous laugh.

The pack of cigarettes she possessively kept was buried in her school bag, tucked into the lining she'd never had the heart to sew up. And apart from the time he'd bumped into her at the ice rink, the young woman had never put out a cigarette in his presence. So how on earth could he have come to such a conclusion? How could he have guessed?

Her excuse held water. Keisuke smoked more than he should, and blaming him was almost too easy. It was so plausible. Yet Hana had the unpleasant feeling that this time, the easy option was not to her advantage. The remark she had uttered by way of vindication seemed to have had the opposite effect.

—Didn't you notice, then? Said the boy, giving her a look torn between amusement and disappointment.

Notice what? Her intuition was screaming at her that she'd given herself away long before he'd asked that question, but no matter how hard Hana searched her memory for a clue that might have given her away, nothing came to mind. Her heart was pounding, buzzing so loudly in her ears that she barely heard his first name when he said it.

—Hana....

Keisuke paused again. He was aware that he was only prolonging this most unbearable moment of waiting, but that didn't stop him from trying to gain a little more time. He knew she was lying. Not because he could see it in her eyes, no. Nothing in her body language gave her away. Absolutely nothing.

He knew she was lying for a reason she hadn't, apparently, considered. A reason he didn't want to mention out loud, because to do so would definitely expose the truth. But since she didn't seem inclined to confess... he'd confess first.

—I haven't smoked a single cigarette while you were here, Keisuke whispered.

When she heard those words, Hana couldn't hide her astonishment, her eyes getting wide as she slowly came to terms with the fact that he was telling the truth. During the afternoon they'd spent together, she hadn't once seen him with a cigarette between his fingers. Immediately, Hana mentally reproached herself for not having noticed this earlier, even though it was she who had challenged him in the first place. He'd made an effort, and that effort hadn't even been rewarded by her noticing. She blamed herself. And as if that feeling of remorse wasn't enough, the young man seemed determined to hammer the final nail in the coffin.

—Actually, I haven't smoked for days, he added, sweeping his piercing gaze across her face as if he could read her mind. So I know the smell in your hair isn't my doing.

It didn't matter to him that she was lying. What did matter to him was the immense distress he could see in the cracks of her mask, marred by a grief that seemed to be eating her away. A pain she no longer had the strength to hide from him, especially now that he had discovered it. A pain that he was, for some unknown reason, ready to take on his shoulders just so she could catch her breath. Her whole being was crying out for help. He simply couldn't remain insensitive to it. This last thought should have tipped him off, proving once again that he was a bit too worried about his companion than what he should have, but the boy ignored that remark on purpose.

Slowly, Keisuke moved towards the young woman. He gently cupped her face, as if afraid it would burst in his hands, and forced her to look him straight in the eyes. From the way her lower lip trembled, Keisuke could tell she wanted to vent everything to him. So he had hoped that, by beating around the bush a little, she'd end up saying something about herself, that she'd share with him what was weighing so heavily on her conscience...

But as the seconds ticked away, the boy's hope slowly drowned until it completely disappeared into the depths of his being. She wasn't going to say anything, but that wasn't enough to make him give up.

—I'll ask you again, he murmured in a soft voice, running his fingers through the roots of her hair. Are you sure everything's all right?

Hana's eyes darkened further, a sign of her growing hesitation. Keisuke's questions had had the effect of opening her Pandora's box, releasing the flood of demons it contained. Her head and her heart were battling, not knowing what to do with the secret that was oppressing her.  And she, torn between these two extremes, didn't know what to listen to. One seemed determined to hide everything deep inside her, while the other was dying to tell him.

And it wasn't just that. The state of their relationship also made Hana hesitate greatly about what to do. They were people with benefits. Not friends. Did she have the right to confide in him on such a personal topic? Wouldn't she be crossing the line they'd set themselves by leaning on the shoulder he was offering her? The more she thought about it, the more she realized that the contours of that boundary were becoming increasingly blurred, that she was really beginning to think of him as an actual friend. Just as when you wake up in the wee hours of the morning and can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell asleep, Hana couldn't have told the exact moment when everything became intertwined.

She wasn't supposed to feel this way. No. She had no right to betray his trust. If he ever found out, he'd abandon her. And strangely enough, that thought frightened her more than anything else.

—Hana? The dark-haired boy called softly, worried by her silence.

Her eyelids closed for just a fraction of a second, but when the young man's beautiful eyes reappeared in her wake, her mind was made up. Hana may trust him blindly, but the fear of losing him by acting selfishly weighed far more heavily. That's why the only words she allowed herself were the following.

—I'm all right.

An eternity seemed to pass. An eternity during which neither of them made the slightest gesture, letting the words she'd just spoken sink in. Words that had definitively marked the end of this conversation, and although he wasn't entirely satisfied, he fully respected her choice.

—All right, he finally said, nodding imperceptibly.

Without warning, Keisuke leaned over to the young woman and kissed her forehead with a tenderness he didn't know he was capable of, hoping to show her some support. This sudden impulse had surprised both of them, but what followed far exceeded anything the young man could have expected.

For the first time since he'd met her, she blushed.

It was discreet, but not enough. Keisuke noticed it. In other circumstances, he would have congratulated himself on having elicited such a reaction from her. He'd probably even have been amused that she'd react like that to such an innocent kiss, after all they'd already done. If he'd known she'd blush for so little, he wouldn't have bothered so much in the past.

But right now, his thoughts were a million miles away. All he could do was watch her go. Alone. Away.

Without a word. Without a glance.