Yet, the deeper their e grows, the more they’re faced with challehey hadn’t anticipated. Jiko bees hyper-aware of how others perceive them—of the rumors and specution that swirl like whispers behind his back. He stantly deflects questions from friends, brushing them off with half-hearted ughs or subtle ges in topic. Teachers at school start to notice too, them curious gnces whehey’re seen together.

  Julie, however, grows more bold in her approach. She refuses to hide—partly because she’s tired of the secrecy, but mostly because she’s tired of pretending it’s something she should be ashamed of. “Why should we have to keep this a secret?” she asks one day, frustration edging her voice. “We shouldn’t have to hide, Jiko.”

  “I know,” Jiko replies, his gaze fixed on the ground. He hates feeling like they’re tiptoeing around the truth, always wary of what might happen if someone finds out. “But you know how it is. People talk. And… I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  Julie sighs, looking down at her shoes. “But hiding like this isn’t fair. We deserve to be happy without feeling like we’re stantly sneaking around.”

  Jiko doesn’t have a respo least, not ohat sounds promising. He knows she’s right, but the fear of what could happen if Tito finds out, if their families find out, is something that clutches at him like a tight grip. He feels torween what he wants and what he knows he o protect—Julie included.

  The tension starts to weigh on both of them, though her is willing to back down from how they feel. They tio find their stolen moments—passing notes iween csses, sharing quiet ughs in secluded spots, and long phone calls that stretch te into the night. But it’s clear that every moment feels tinged with hesitation, as though they’re walking on thin ice.

  And then, oernoon, the iable happens. Jiko hears a group of students talking—whispers that make his skin prickle with unease. “Did you see them again? Jiko and Julie… they’ve been spending so much time together. They’re practically inseparable now.”

  Jiko’s stomaots, aries to brush it off at first. It’s just the usual high school gossip—nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. But as the days go on, the rumors spread further, seeping into versations with teachers, slipping through the hallways like a growing storm.

  One day, after school, Jiko finds himself ered by some of his cssmates. He’s standing by his locker, exging books with a friend, when someone suddenly leans in—half-joking but with a sharp edge to their tone. “Hey, Jiko. What’s this I hear about you and Julie? People say you twetting… close.”

  Jiko freezes. His heart races, and he quickly adjusts his posture, f a casual smile onto his face. “It’s nothing,” he answers, trying to sound nont. “We are close from beginning. We’re just friends.”

  The ughter that erupts around him is tinged with disbelief. “Sure, Jiko. Friends who are always hanging out together, sneaking g each other in the hallways. What I know, man and woman ot be friends, especially the way you guys ag..” The group snickers, and though they mean it as a joke, Jiko feel the weight of their words—how they’re already starting to believe the rumors.

  The following day, Jiko’s dread bees a reality. That evening Tito approaches him—casually at first, but with an unmistakable seriousness behind his eyes.

  “What’s this I hear about you and Julie?” Tito asks, raising an eyebrow, half-joking, but his tone carries something more than mere curiosity. “People say you two are... close.”

  Jiko’s heart sinks. He freezes, his stomach twisting. He knows what’s ing—what Tito suspects. But still, part of him tries to py it cool. “It’s nothing, brother. I have already told you before, we don’t have any romantic feelings,” he says quickly, giving a half-hearted ugh.

  Tito leans in slightly, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something suspicious—something Jiko ’t quite brush off. “You sure about that? Seems like you’ve been spending a lot of time together tely.”

  Jiko’s fiighten around his books. He feels trapped—guilt gnawing at him, though Julie means nothing to Tito in this timeli doesn’t matter. The fact that someone else might think they’re involved is enough to make him feel like he’s crossing some invisible line.

  “I’m just looking out for her,” Jiko says quickly, though even he knows it sounds flimsy. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

  Tits, but Jiko tell he isn’t vinced. “You better be careful, Jiko,” Tito says, his voice lower now. “People talk, and things spiral out of trol fast.”

  Jiko forces a nod, though inside, he feels uneasy. Tito might shrug it off now, but Jiko knows his brother—how protective and sharp he be when it es to those he cares about. And that thought—Tito suspeg something, even if it’s just in passing—makes Jiko’s chest tighten further.

  Later that evening, Jiko sits alone, scrolling through his phone, his mind rag. Julie’s name pops up on his s. He hesitates for a long moment before deg to call her—knowing they o talk.

  “Hey,” Julie answers, her voice soft but cautious.

  “Julie,” Jiko says, his tone serious. “I think we o talk. This thing with the rumors… it’s getting worse.”

  There’s a pause oher end. “Yeah, I know,” Julie admits softly. “People at school keep bringing it up. They’re making it seem like we’re hiding something.”

  “I don’t want this to spiral out of trol,” Jiko says, his voice low, edged with frustration. “But I’m worried—worried about what might happen if my brother hears about it. Or our families.”

  Julie sighs. “Why is your main always your brother… You are ag like a girl, who is protected by goon brother. Well, I’m tired of hiding, Jiko. I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore. We shouldn’t have to be afraid of eople think.”

  Jiko leans back against his bed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. But it’s not just about us. It’s about what es . We’ve got people watg us—speg, and it’s starting to feel overwhelming.”

  For a moment, her of them speaks, the weight of their situatioling heavily between them. Jiko feels torn—part of him wants to stand his ground ahe world, while another part is weighed down by the fear of sequences.