Chapter 24

Miku.

Kaito was so cute, acting all in love like that! I inched my finger slightly off the camera lens so that only my face was reaching his end.

"Kaito?" I said.

"Y-Yes?"

"It's okay. You can turn the phone around now."

I watched my screen as it stopped showing his carpet and started showing his face, tired and hidden in the shadows.

Kaito.

My heart was beating in my ears, and I could barely make sense of what was going on.

This must be a dream. Obviously, it has to be a dream.

I looked down at Miku's face, crystal clear across the phone's screen. Her wet hair stuck to her face. Even though it was four at night, she didn't look the least bit sleepy.

"Kaito, I don't know who this girl is, but she sounds totally insensitive," Miku's words stomped across my heart. I wasn't sure if I should be relived or sad. She didn't know that I was talking about her.

She didn't know how much I loved her, and at that point...it was at that point that I couldn't hold it back anymore. I had to tell her now. Len was angry with me, I tried to apologize to Rin, Mikuo wasn't on great terms with me, and I didn't show up during Miku's music club meeting. It was four in the night, my eyes were dry from tears that I wouldn't admit that I had shed. The cold air licked the nape of my neck, soft and slender fingers of the spring breeze pulling me close and whispering, stinging my ears. And I loved Miku so much. I wasn't going to hold back anymore. I had kept it a secret all these years, but now...

"Miku," I said with a sharp exhale. Our eyes met, my cobalt against her teals, a screen, cameras and satellite signals in between, "You're my princess. I've always loved you."

Gumi.

"Are you cold?" Yuma's voice hung over me as his fingers wrapped around the ball of my shoulder. I shook my head. We were walking home after our crazy shopping spree, and Yuma had insisted that he hold the bags.

"Not too cold," I said, "But it's crazy how the temperature dropped."

"Yeah."

We stood on front of my home, looking up at the door. Yuma's hand slipped off of my shoulder and squeezed my hand tightly.

"My dad's at work, and my mom knows that I'm late at times," I said.

"So you won't get int trouble?"

I shook my head. "She trusts me," I said, "Knows that I'm a responsible person."

"You are," Yuma said as I turned to look at him.

"Good night," I said, the words barely managing to escape my throat, "Thanks for everything."

Yuma nodded, and then he ran his index finger gently along my cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded, feeling like that was enough. Taking my bags from his hands, I opened the door and stepped in, looking back for a second as he waved.

As soon as I shut the door, I felt the urge to see him again. I dropped my things to the floor and pulled the door open again. He was gone.

But I still had that photograph, the photograph of himself that he took for me. He wanted me to have it. When I went up to my room after checking on my mom, who was already asleep, I lay down in bed with the photograph pressed tightly against my chest.

Yuma was nicer than I had ever imagined. He didn't rush me, and his touch was gentle, just like his speech. He wasn't the kind of guy who'd go around picking fights or fooling with girls. He was just himself, and in my eyes, that made him perfect.