I'm a human tug of war, how do I cut the chord?
Feel like I′m stumbling blind
And with the angel on my right, telling me to pick a side tonight
Too hard to fight, heart over mind, no

The night air was warm and heavy as I stepped outside the door. The heat of the day still seemed to hang in the air, oppressive and stuffy, like an immovable veil that lay over the city. A gentle breeze caressed my arms, but it didn't really cool me down.

I crossed my arms and stared thoughtfully at the smooth, pristine surface of the pool, which gently reflected the light from the surrounding lamps.

I nervously played with the golden pendant around my neck, working it with my fingers, feeling the delicate shape of the anatomical heart whose contours were so familiar to me. Makoto had given it to me - back then, shortly after I had learnt that I needed a new heart to live on. As a talisman, he had said.

"I know it's not a real one, but if I could, I'd give you one right away," he'd said when I'd opened the little box with the pendant inside. "I'd even give you my own heart if I could."

I blinked at him in amazement.

"Nonsense, you couldn't live without a heart."

"Well, maybe not." He had grinned, but there was something serious in his eyes. "But if I could, I would have given it to you anyway. No question."

I shook my head in disbelief.

"You weirdo," I lightly poked him in the side. "And what am I supposed to do when you're gone?"

He just shrugged his shoulders.

"Quite simple. Move on, of course."

I felt a small smile tugging at my lips as the memory rose up in my mind - so vivid and yet so unreal, as if it were from another life. It seemed so distant, almost like a scene from an old film, not something that had happened to me.

The Tsuki from back then had still been full of hopes and dreams, despite her bitter diagnosis. She hadn't let it get her down so easily, had always believed that there was a straw for her to grasp at.

But life had taught her otherwise. It had shown her that there wasn't always a solution, no matter how strong her will to survive had been. That there were moments when you were powerless, when you had no choice but to accept fate. And just at the moment when she had thought everything was hopeless, she had ended up here. In this strange, messed-up world where she had the chance to leave it all behind and start all over again. But somehow her past always seemed to catch up with her.

Makoto.

He still meant a lot to me. Perhaps too much. He had been by my side in my darkest hours, had always built me up when I no longer had the strength. I knew how passionate he could be when it came to me, when it was about something close to his heart. But today... I had never seen him like this before.

The way he had confronted Chishiya, the uncontrolled anger that had burst out of him - that wasn't the Makoto I knew. He had never been one to pick fights. He was usually calm, even-tempered, always careful to avoid conflict.

And now? Now all it took was a single word from Chishiya, a single challenging look, and Makoto was unrecognisable. As if the mere fact that he was breathing, that he existed, made him furious.

I pressed my lips together.

Was it really just jealousy?

Or was there more to it than that?

Whatever it was, it annoyed me. It annoyed me that he let Chishiya provoke him so much. That he couldn't control himself. That he thought I couldn't take care of myself and would succumb to Chishiya's charms as soon as he snapped his fingers.

Why did he always have to interfere in my affairs? He acted as if we were still a couple, as if he could tell me who I could and couldn't spend my time with.

And then there was that embarrassing scene at the ball. He'd embarrassed me in front of Chishiya, treated me like I was a helpless thing who didn't know what was good for her without him.

But it wasn't just Makoto I was annoyed with. No, it was also Chishiya. His provocative manner. His indifference, which was only an act because I knew exactly how much he enjoyed upsetting Makoto. He had goaded him with every casual comment, every sneer, as if the whole thing was nothing more than an entertaining distraction for him.

This absurd power play between the two of them... as if I was nothing more than a fucking prize.

And the worst thing about it - that maybe Chishiya really thought so. That for him it was just a game that gave him pleasure.

A soft sigh escaped me as I continued to stare at the smooth surface of the pool. The reflection of the lights danced on the surface, calm and untouched. A contradiction to the storm that was raging inside me.

Just at that moment, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Here you are." The unexpected voice made me flinch briefly. I turned round and saw Makoto standing on the steps leading to the entrance hall. His gaze was hard to read, his posture tense. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

"I needed some fresh air," I said curtly and let my gaze wander over the empty hotel grounds again.

Makoto stepped up next to me, but he didn't say anything. An uncomfortable silence fell over us. The only sound came from the cicadas chirping loudly from the bushes.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence.

"If you're worried - Chishiya's fine."

His tone was calm, but there was a bitter undertone.

"How nice," I replied sarcastically.

What else could I say?

Of course I was relieved, but there was a great risk that Makoto would take it the wrong way again.

"Are you angry now?"

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and then gave him a scathing look.

"Are you serious? Of course I'm angry. You... I don't know what's got into you. Why are you behaving like this? Chishiya and I were just talking to each other normally. And you... you're almost acting like we... had a secret date."

Makoto snorted contemptuously and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Oh come on, Tsuki. Be honest. You know damn well he didn't just want to have a nice chat with you."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him.

"So what if he did? I can decide for myself who I talk to. I don't need a minder telling me who I can and can't trust."

"Trust?" He laughed dryly. "You can't seriously believe that you can trust him."

"And you can't seriously believe that you can dictate what I do!" I took a step towards him to glare at him. "What's next? Are you going to control where I go, what I think?"

He pressed his lips together and gritted his teeth.

"Tsuki, I-"

"No!" I raised a hand to silence him. "You acted like a complete idiot today. Like you're some caveman who needs to mark his territory. I'm not a trophy, alright?"

Makoto laughed bitterly.

"Because I don't want you to get involved with someone who's just using you? I'm just worried about you... Is that so wrong?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"You don't care about me," I replied, a touch calmer but still sharp. "You care about losing me. And you know what? Your behaviour is only getting you closer to that goal."

His expression changed. The anger gave way to something else - insecurity. Hurt. Remorse. There was a silent admission of guilt in his eyes.

"Tsuki, I'm sorry. I-... I don't want to lose you."

His voice was quiet, almost brittle.

I exhaled heavily and forced myself to stay calm.

"Then stop treating me like an underage little kid. I'm not your property, Makoto."

He stared at me, opened his mouth, but seemed to change his mind. He stroked his hair with an erratic gesture. Something still seemed to be bothering him.

"I know," he finally said. "I know. I was just..." He let the sentence hang in the air, as if searching for the right word. "Angry."

"Yeah, I could tell," I replied dryly.

He snorted and turned slightly to the side, letting his gaze glide over the pool. A moment of silence fell between us, infinitely heavy.

Then he suddenly said:

"There's only one thing I want to know. The dress... Where did you get it?"

He looked at me warily from the side. My stomach involuntarily tightened.

How did he come up with this now?

His eyes rested expectantly on me while I searched for an answer that wouldn't upset him.

But... why actually? Why lie?

I no longer owed him any kind of accountability. He was no longer my boyfriend.

I raised my chin slightly, almost defiantly.

"Chishiya gave it to me," I said without looking at him.

I heard him draw in a sharp breath.

"I see," he muttered, his voice sounding hollow. "And you couldn't tell me that?"

"No, because I knew how you would react," I replied firmly. "You would have misunderstood."

He laughed tonelessly.

"Misunderstood? I don't think there's much to misunderstand, is there? It's obvious what he's trying to do..."

I crossed my arms and looked at him.

"Oh yeah, explain it to me. What's he up to?"

"He wants to win you over and drive a wedge between us. Why can't you see that, Tsuki?"

I snorted.

"Do you ever listen to yourself? It's just a dress, Makoto. I took it because I liked it. Chishiya knew that. He just wanted to do me a favour. But as soon as someone is nice to me, you immediately sense a sinister conspiracy."

Makoto let out a hollow laugh that sounded nothing like him.

"Nice... he's certainly not just nice," he grumbled softly.

"Listen, Makoto. I know you mean well. You think you have to protect me from him, but even if it's like you say. Even if you're right, it's still my decision, not yours. I want to find out for myself whether I can trust him or not. And if I fall flat on my face? Then so be it."

"I don't want you to get hurt, Tsu..."

His voice was quieter now, almost raspy.

I turned back to him. The anger in me hadn't completely gone, but it was overlaid by something else - tiredness. Resignation. The wish that this stupid argument would finally end.

"I know," I finally said. "But you can't protect me from everything. And sometimes I just want to make my own decisions and make my own mistakes. Do you understand that?"

Makoto looked at me for a long time. Then he rubbed the back of his neck, sighing as if he was fighting an internal battle.

"Alright..." He sounded exhausted. "Then I just hope you know what you're doing."

He didn't look convinced, but at least the tension in his posture had eased a little. My mouth twisted into a half-hearted smile.

For a moment, we just stood there, not saying a word, not continuing the argument. It almost felt as if we had reached a point where there was nothing more to say.

Then Makoto's lips slowly curled into a grin, the all-too-familiar mischievous twinkle entering his eyes.

"Buuuut," he said, stretching as he took a step closer. "You still deserve to be punished."

"What?" I blinked in confusion, but before I could even protest, I felt his arms suddenly wrap around my waist.

"Makoto, no-!"

But it was too late. With one swift movement, he had hoisted me over his shoulder as if I were just a bag of feathers.

"MAKOTO!" I gasped, startled, and immediately began to kick wildly. "Put me down IMMEDIATELY! I'm warning you!"

He laughed, completely unfazed by my attempts to fight back.

"I'm sorry, but a fair punishment must be meted out."

With effortless determination, he headed for the pool as I continued to wriggle.

"Makoto, don't do this! I swear, if you do, then- "

But my threat turned into a startled squeak as I saw him approach the edge of the pool.

"MAKOTO, NO!"

Without hesitation, he let go of me.

A sharp cry escaped me, then I was swallowed up by the cool surface of the water.

For a moment, everything was muffled - the noise of the ball, the voices, even my own thoughts. The water enveloped me, the chlorine stinging my eyes, but I immediately kicked upwards and broke through the surface, snorting.

" - I'll kill you!" I finished my previously interrupted sentence with a gasp and briskly wiped the wet hair from my face.

My gaze flitted frantically across the water until I spotted my crown floating lazily on the waves. I grabbed it and put it back on my head with exaggerated dignity.

Makoto stood at the edge of the pool, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a triumphant smile on his lips.

"Well, do you feel a bit... cleansed?"

I blinked at him, stunned - then, without warning, I splashed a full load of water in his face.

"Hey!" He laughed, wiped the water from his eyes and shook his head. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

I twisted my lips into a mischievous grin.

"Not really. But this might."

With a few strong strokes, I approached the edge of the pool and pulled myself out of the water with difficulty - only to grab his ankle in a flash.

"Tsuki, don't you dare!"

But before he could continue, I pulled him forwards with a powerful jerk.

There was a loud splash as Makoto fell headfirst into the water. I knew that he hadn't fallen because of me. He had jumped as soon as he knew what I was going to do. When his head popped back up, he spat out a small fountain of water and looked at me with a look of mock indignation on his face.

"That screams revenge."

I just laughed and swam backwards away from him.

"Come and get me!"

He grinned challengingly.

"With pleasure."

And so our little water fight began - and for a brief moment I actually managed to forget everything. Chishiya. Our argument. The games. The whole world outside.

The water enveloped me, cool and refreshing, as we splashed each other, racing to dive and escaping each other again and again. It was silly and childish, but that was exactly what I needed at that moment.

However, I soon realised how the wet, heavy dress was getting in the way of my swimming. Without giving it much thought, I pulled it over my head and threw it to the edge of the pool, where it landed on the tiles with a thud. Makoto did the same and stripped off his wet shirt so that we were both floating in the water in just our underwear. I didn't mind - after all, it was hardly any different to swimming in a bikini.

We laughed, chased each other through the water and for a moment it felt as if I had been transported back to a time when everything was still normal. To a world without games, without fear, without mistrust. Just Makoto and me.

But at some point my strength left me. Panting, I swam back to the edge of the pool and pushed myself up. The cold tiles pressed against my back as I let myself sink onto them exhausted, my feet still dangling in the water.

Next to me, I heard Makoto pull himself out of the pool with a slight groan and drop down next to me, breathing heavily.

Even he was out of breath after our little competition - and that meant something.

"Are you out of practice?" I teased him with a grin as I turned my head towards him.

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"It's been a while since my last training session," he gasped, running his fingers through his wet hair. "Guess swimming competitions aren't that popular here."

I chuckled softly.

"That's a shame. But let's be honest - a game of spades where you have to swim or dive, that would be something. You'd definitely beat anyone at it hands down."

Makoto grimaced thoughtfully, as if he was actually imagining the idea.

"I'll put it on my next wish list for the game makers," he replied dryly.

I laughed and let my head sink back onto the tiles, my eyes closed for a moment.

The warm night air and the gentle lapping of the water had a calming effect. Right now, I could have lain here forever without thinking about tomorrow.

The stars above us twinkled clearly in the dark sky, while the cicadas in the bushes sang their monotonous song - a sound like endless summer nights. Everything seemed so peaceful. Almost too peaceful, considering where we were. For a brief moment, I wished it could stay like this. This feeling of ease, of light-heartedness. This temporary escape from reality. Perhaps it was due to the cocktail I had drunk earlier - more out of frustration than pleasure. But now it was all gone, as if washed away.

I tilted my head a little to the side. Makoto was lying right next to me, his feet also dangling lazily in the water. But instead of looking up at the sky, he looked at me. I swallowed hard as I looked into his familiar dark eyes, which scrutinised me gently.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," I said quietly.

I didn't know why I suddenly felt the need to apologise. Maybe because I was really sorry at that moment. Or maybe because I wanted to fill the silence between us with words so that I didn't have to think about the strange feeling that was creeping up on me.

"I forgot," he said with a barely noticeable shake of his head.

"Really?" I turned slightly towards him. "And what about Chishiya?"

His face darkened a little.

"He's harder to forget. Especially since you're still working with him."

"That's right. I work with him. That's all," I said curtly, but I sensed that it was a lie, one that I was obviously trying to tell myself again and again.

In the meantime, I had long since realised why Makoto had known about the dress. Chishiya had slipped it to him, perhaps only subtly, but deliberately. There was no other possibility. And if that was true, then Makoto was probably right about something else too: Chishiya wanted to turn us against each other.

The thought made me feel uneasy.

Why was he doing that?

Did he just want to get Makoto out of the way so he could have a clear path? Was it just a game for him, a means of entertainment? Or was he secretly seeking revenge for his injured lip? No, that seemed too trivial. Chishiya wouldn't care about such a small thing.

"Do you really trust him?" Makoto asked after a while, his voice calmer this time, but also worried.

I hesitated.

"Hm, I don't know."

"You know," he contradicted. "You just don't want to admit it."

I pursed my lips.

"Do you really think I'm that naive? That I don't realise when someone is taking advantage of me?"

"No," he said thoughtfully and rolled onto his side, resting his head on his arm as he scrutinised me calmly. "But I think you want to see something good in everyone, even if they don't deserve it. You've always been like that."

He smirked quietly to himself, as if he was thinking of something in particular - a shared memory perhaps.

I pressed my lips together and averted my eyes. His words hit me unexpectedly. Perhaps because they had a kernel of truth. Maybe because I was secretly afraid of exactly that - that I was wrong. That I was deluding myself. That I was clinging to a hope that didn't exist.

"And even if that's true," I replied quietly. "What would be so bad about that? It's not all black and white, is it? People aren't just good or bad. They are... more complex. I just try to see them as a whole and see behind their facade."

Makoto looked at me silently for a moment before letting his gaze wander into the distance, up into the darkness as he searched for an answer. His fingers slid over the wet tiles, lost in thought, drawing invisible patterns as a strange silence fell between us.

"I know," he finally said quietly. "And that's exactly what I admire about you."

His voice sounded calm, almost thoughtful, but he still didn't look at me.

I furrowed my brow and a soft, unbelievable chuckle escaped my throat.

"Oh, come on. You're just saying that now."

But Makoto showed no sign of smiling. I turned slightly to the side, scrutinising his profile in the dim light of the pool, waiting to see if he would continue talking. He still didn't look at me, seeming to collect himself instead.

"You have this unwavering faith in people," he finally continued. "Even when they disappoint you, you don't give up on them. You always try to see the good, no matter how hidden it is."

He ran a hand over his face thoughtfully before continuing with a slight shake of his head:

"I... I sometimes wish I could see the world the way you do. But I'm not like that. I'm more realistic. Or maybe just more pessimistic."

I fell silent, letting his words sink in.

Makoto sighed softly, his fingers playing with a loose thread on his soaked trousers before he finally stroked them through his dripping wet hair in an erratic movement. Only then did he slowly turn his head to look at me.

And that's when I felt it. A slight tug in my stomach. A feeling that was familiar, but still felt different than before.

A moment of silence fell over us, interrupted only by the gentle lapping of the water and the distant chirping of the cicadas. I felt his gaze resting on me, warm and penetrating at the same time, and yet I didn't dare look at him directly.

"You say that like it's something special," I finally murmured, trying to break the strange tension between us.

"It is. You are special, Tsuki," he said, without any mockery in his voice.

I stared at him motionlessly, watching as he lifted his hand to wipe a strand of wet hair from my forehead. But instead of taking it away, he stayed there before slowly sliding his fingers down my face. My breathing tightened involuntarily and became shallower. But I did nothing to stop him.

Perhaps because his touch was still so familiar to me, because it brought back memories of that time together, when we had barely gone a single day without each other. When my heart had beaten euphorically faster because of him as soon as he had even come close to me. And some of that was still there. But it was different. More like an echo of that feeling. Something to think back on fondly. But also something I no longer longed for.

Makoto leant closer to me, his fingers sliding lower until they reached my collarbone - right where the gold pendant lay. He touched it with the tip of his finger, as if to remind me of what we had once meant to each other. As if he could restore the connection between us with a single touch.

"I miss you."

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

My heart skipped an uncomfortable beat.

"Makoto..."

I lifted my eyes, looking at him. His face was suddenly much too close. His hand went to my waist, warm and familiar. I opened my lips, not knowing what I wanted to say, but before I could even make a sound, he bridged the last distance between us.

His lips gently placed themselves on mine. Not pressing, not demanding - just careful, tentative, as if he wanted to see how I reacted.

My body stiffened briefly and for a moment I couldn't think straight.

And then... I allowed it.

Hesitantly. Not because I wanted to. Not out of desire. But out of reflex.

Because it was familiar.

And yet... something was wrong.

As he kissed me, an image flashed in my mind - another face, another pair of lips that I had never kissed, but whose touch I suddenly tried to imagine with terrifying clarity.

Chishiya.

It was absurd. Ridiculous. And yet, at that moment, he was more present than the person I was with.

Makoto's kiss was warm, soft, familiar - but it didn't make anything flare up inside me. No fire, no pulling, no tingling. Nothing. My fingers tightened around the damp fabric of my top, and suddenly everything felt too tight.

This was wrong.

Not because Makoto was treating me badly. Not because he wasn't serious. I knew how much he loved me.

But I... I didn't. Not anymore.

Because my heart had long since moved in a different direction.

I hastily tore myself away, my breath coming in gasps.

"I-" My voice faltered. I shook my head, as if I could shake off the confusion he had caused in me. Makoto looked at me, completely transfigured.

"Tsu-"

"I'm sorry. I can't do this."

Completely headless, I stood up, picked up my wet dress from the floor with unsteady hands and ran.

Away from him.

Away from that kiss.

My bare feet slapped on the cold tiles, the water dripping from my body, but I didn't stop, didn't look back once, not even when Makoto called my name behind me. Still, he didn't follow me. Maybe he knew there was no point. That he had lost me long ago.

Suddenly the ground was torn from under my feet. I fell roughly to my knees, but quickly picked myself up again and carried on running, ignoring the burning sensation on my skin without giving it another thought. A storm of emotions was raging in my head, which had built up inside me.

I kept running without really knowing where I was going. I didn't want to go back to the ball, I didn't want to go back into the crowd. I just wanted to go somewhere where I could be alone, where I could think.

But when I finally came to a stop in front of a door, shaking, panting, with my dress clutched tightly to my chest, I realised where my feet had taken me.

The infirmary.

My hands were cold, my arms clutching my body as I stood in front of the door. I didn't even know exactly why I had come here. All I knew was that it was the only place I wanted to be right now.

Slowly, I raised a trembling hand.

Then I knocked.