Harua and Yuma have always been something more than friends, but never quite lovers.One day, Harua moves away.

*****
"If things were different..."
 "Yeah. If only."
*****

They were never just friends.

But they were never more than that either.

Harua had always been there—next to Yuma, just within reach but never fully his. It was an unspoken thing between them, lingering in the spaces between playful shoves, in the way Yuma always saved Harua's favorite snacks without being asked, in the way Harua always waited for Yuma to finish talking before offering a quiet smile.

But unspoken things never lasted forever.

And today, Yuma was losing him.

The Last Day

Yuma leaned against Harua's bedroom doorframe, watching as he packed.

"You don't have to leave, you know." His voice was light, teasing. But it wavered at the end.

Harua paused, fingers tightening around a sweater before shoving it into his suitcase. "I kind of do."

Yuma scoffed. "Who even moves for school? Nerd behavior."

Harua laughed softly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's a good opportunity."

Yuma clicked his tongue. "I could find you opportunities here."

Harua zipped his suitcase shut. "Yeah?" He turned, smiling slightly. "And what would those be?"

Yuma smirked. "Official Yuma Sidekick. Full benefits. No moving required."

Harua rolled his eyes. "Tempting."

"Then stay."

The words slipped out before Yuma could stop them.

Silence.

Harua swallowed. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Yuma asked, but he already knew.

Harua sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. "You make it sound easy."

"Maybe it is."

Harua shook his head. "It's not."

Yuma clenched his fists. It could be. If only you let it.

Flashback: The Night Yuma Almost Confessed

It had been raining that night.

They were walking back from practice, Harua's umbrella barely big enough to cover them both. Yuma had kept inching closer, his shoulder pressed against Harua's, their footsteps matching.

Harua had been rambling about something—maybe a song he liked, maybe some random fact about the stars—Yuma wasn't listening.

He was staring at Harua's lips.

Thinking.

Imagining.

His fingers twitched. His heart raced. He just had to say it.

"Hey, Harua—"

A car zoomed by, splashing a wave of water at them.

Harua shrieked, gripping onto Yuma as they stumbled away from the puddle, drenched.

The moment shattered.

Harua groaned dramatically. "That was awful."

Yuma swallowed back the words that had been at the tip of his tongue and smirked instead. "That's what you get for making me share an umbrella."

Harua shoved him, laughing. "Oh, shut up."

Yuma laughed too.

But his heart ached.

The Almost Confession

They walked to the station together, steps slower than usual, neither of them rushing.

Harua's train wouldn't leave for another hour. But Yuma knew—knew in his gut—that an hour wasn't enough. Not for this. Not for them.

He kept stealing glances at Harua, memorizing the way his hair fell over his forehead, the way he adjusted the strap of his bag absentmindedly, the way he felt like home.

Harua caught him staring. "What?"

Yuma exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing. Just... don't forget me, okay?"

Harua smiled softly. "That's impossible."

Say it now, Yuma thought. Say it before it's too late.

He opened his mouth—

"Yuma."

Harua's voice was gentle, but his eyes were firm. "If things were different..."

Yuma's breath hitched.

Don't say it.

Don't give me hope.

He forced a grin. "Yeah. If only."

And just like that, the moment passed.

Flashback: The Night Harua Almost Confessed

They were lying on the dorm rooftop, side by side, staring at the sky.

Yuma had been rambling about something—maybe a new hobby, maybe a ridiculous dream—Harua wasn't listening.

He was staring at Yuma's hands.

Thinking.

Imagining.

He'd wanted to reach out, to lace their fingers together.

Instead, he pressed his hands to his chest and whispered, "Yuma."

Yuma turned his head. "Yeah?"

Harua opened his mouth, but—

A firework exploded in the distance.

Yuma grinned, eyes lighting up as he turned away to watch. "Whoa, did you see that?"

Harua let his words die on his tongue.

And just smiled instead.

The Goodbye

The train pulled in.

Harua turned to him. "You'll be okay?"

Yuma shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. "Duh."

Harua rolled his eyes. "Liar."

Yuma sighed, looking away. "You'll be okay?"

Harua hesitated. Then, so quietly Yuma almost missed it—

"...Yeah."

But his fingers were curled tight around the strap of his bag.

The train doors opened.

Harua took a step forward.

Yuma grabbed his wrist.

"Wait."

Harua looked back, eyes wide.

Yuma swallowed. "One last thing."

Harua nodded slowly. "Okay."

Yuma wanted to say everything. How Harua had always been his favorite part of the day. How no one made him laugh like he did. How this—they—had always felt like something unfinished.

Instead, he took a shaky breath and said—

"Don't be a stranger."

Harua's face crumbled just a little.

Then he smiled.

"Never."

And then—just like that—he was gone.

Almost, Always

Yuma stood on the platform long after the train left, hands in his pockets, staring at the empty tracks.

He replayed every moment, every almost confession, every almost touch, every almost kiss.

They had always been something more than friends.

But never quite lovers.

And now?

Now, they were just almost.