As she got closer to the school gates, she saw Jiko leaning against the iron frame, looking rexed but also somehow distant. He stood there in the fading light, his outline sharp against the soft glow of the streetlights. Julie’s steps slowed, and she squinted a little as she looked at him. There was something different about him tonight—he seemed quieter, more reserved. Usually, he was so guarded ao himself, but tonight he seemed like he was someone else.

  She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should approach or pass by. But before she could make a decision, she called out softly.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice light but carrying an undercurrent she couldn’t shake. “Walk me home?”

  Jiko’s head lifted slightly, his gaze shifting towards her. There ause—a beat lohan usual—as if he was sidering something. Then, to her surprise, he smiled. “Sure.”

  And with that, they began walking down the quiet, winding street together—dimly lit by the occasional streetlight, the shadows long and stretg. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the sleeping town. Crickets chirped faintly in the background, blending with the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the towling into stillness. The air was cool, carrying with it the faint st of damp earth and the faint trace of blossoms that still lingered from earlier in the day.

  At first, they walked in sileheir steps fell into an unspoken rhythm—quiet and measured. Julie stole occasional g Jiko, who walked beside her with his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed straight ahead. His face was calm, as usual, but tonight there was something more—something guarded, a mask that seemed to weigh heavily upon him. It was as if he was fighting something within himself, keeping his emotions in check despite the calm exterior.

  her of them spoke at first, but the sileretched between them like a taut string—eaent heavier tha. Julie could feel it—an unspokeion hanging in the air—ohat her of them dared to voice. Her heart beat faster, the tension slowly mounting.

  Finally, uo stand the sileny longer, Julie broke it. “So… was today as bad as you thought it’d be?”

  Jiko turned slightly towards her, a small smile—just enough to soften his usually stoic expression. “It wasn’t bad,” he admitted quietly, surprising even himself. “You were right. It was... fun.”

  Julie’s lips curved into a small grin, her usual cheerfulness breaking through the quiet tension. “See? I told you. You’re just too stubborn to admit I’m always right.”

  Though they both khey'd never discussed this before, they were just trying to get past that initial awkwardness.

  Jiko chuckled softly, the sound breaking through the quiet like a cra the heavy atmosphere. For a moment, the weight between them lifted—just enough to allow the easy bahey used to share to resurface. It felt familiar, f. But as they tinued walking, the lightness slowly faded once again, leaving the unspoken words pressing heavily between them.

  As they he edge of Julie’s neighborhood, they stopped outside her house, the warm glow of the porch light casting a golden halo around her. Julie turo face Jiko fully, her eyes searg his with an iy that made his heart thrum harder in his chest. There was something in her expression—soft, yet sharp—something that seemed to see right through him.

  “I don’t get you, Jiko,” she said softly, her voice quiet but firm. “Sometimes, I think you care about me. Really care. But then you push me away, like it’s the st thing you want.”

  Jiko froze. Her words cut deeper than he expected, slig through the carefully structed walls he’d built around himself. He looked at her—the vulnerability in her eyes—an ache stirring within his chest, one he didn’t know how to deal with. His stomach twisted, and his fists ched at his sides, unsure of how to respond.

  “I do care, Julie,” he finally admitted, his voice low and measured, as if each word weighed heavy in his mouth. “More than I should.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, her breath catg ihroat. For a moment, her of them moved. The world around them seemed to blur—everything else falling away—until only the two of them remained, standing there in the quiet.

  Julie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, Jiko took a step back—quick, deliberate—almost like he was distang himself from what had just happened.

  “I should go,” he said quickly, his tone sharper thaended. “Goodnight, Julie.”

  Without waiting for her reply, he turned away, walking briskly dowreet. His footsteps echoed hollowly against the cobblestones, but he didn’t dare look back—afraid of what he might see in her eyes, afraid of the vulnerability that might break him.

  Julie stood on the porch, watg him disappear into the shadows. Her heart felt caught in a whirlwind—fusion, frustration, a flicker of hope she couldn’t shake. She leaned against the door, repying his words in her mind. “More than I should.”

  It wasn’t the clear decration she had hoped for—certain and fident—but it was enough. A small cra his armor, a glimpse into something deeper beh his careful trol. It gave her a sliver of belief—despite his walls—Jiko’s heart wasn’t as untouchable as he made it seem.

  Inside, Jiko walked quickly, his mind a storm of swirliions. He hated himself for leaving her like that—for letting fear win once again. But as much as he wao turn back—to say everything he had been holding inside—he knew he couldn’t—not yet. Not while he was still trying to make sense of the storm she had stirred within him.

  Jiko started to see Julie in a pletely new way. In the inal timeline, she’d just been Tito’s fiancée—someone always ected to his brother, alart of someone else’s life. But now, it was different. Spending more time with her, Jiko began to see beyond the surface. She was thoughtful, calm, but also warm and g—someone who genuinely cared about others, who gave so much without expeg anything iurn. She had a quiet fidehat he’d never really noticed before, and it was actually pretty captivating.