May 10, 2025

  I had spent the last hour packing my suitcase, trying to make everything fit the way it had before.

  It wasn’t working.

  Somewhere along the way, I had bought too many things—tea sets, stationery, souvenirs I hadn’t planned for. Now, I was kneeling on the floor of my hotel room, staring at the mess of clothes and travel-sized toiletries spilling over the edges of my luggage.

  I sighed, reaching for my carry-on to rearrange some space.

  That’s when I saw them.

  The hand warmers.

  I had stuffed them in the pocket of my bag weeks ago, forgotten them in the shuffle of the trip. But now, as I picked them up, the memory hit me like a delayed impact.

  Leo wiping the raindrop from my cheek, his touch lingering just long enough to make my stomach flip.

  I swallowed, turning them over in my hands.

  Then, just as quickly, another memory surfaced.

  Ethan, sitting across from me in the tea shop, his voice quiet, steady. “Tell me to stop.”

  And before that—Ethan beside me in the meeting room, watching over me when I was too sick to move.

  I inhaled sharply and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes.

  For all my data gathering, I still had no idea what to do.

  Friday, 11:30 AM – The Flight Back

  The airport was silent in that tired, mid-morning way, filled with the quiet hum of travelers moving sluggishly through security.

  The team was gathered near the gate, waiting for boarding to be called. Samantha and Eric were leaning against their luggage, deep in conversation about some show they were both binge-watching. Hannah was checking her phone, replying to messages with quick, efficient taps.

  Leo and Ethan stood apart from the group, not speaking.

  I pretended not to notice the tension between them, but it was impossible to ignore.

  When I reached for my boarding pass, Eric nudged me. “Hey, I’m not set on my seat if you want to swap.”

  I took the opportunity before I could think too much about it. “Actually, yeah. Thanks.”

  I switched my seat, settling in with Hannah and Samantha instead.

  When I glanced back toward the row I was supposed to be in—

  I found Ethan and Leo, both glowering to themselves, with Eric stuck miserably between them.

  I turned back around and put my headphones in.

  I did not sleep.

  I couldn’t.

  Because my mind kept circling back—to Leo, to Ethan, to everything that had been left unsaid.

  Because the reality was, the moment I got home, this wasn’t over.

  I still had to face them.

  I still had to figure out what I wanted.

  And I had no idea how to do that.

  Friday, 6:30 AM – The Ride Home

  Hiro was waiting near baggage claim, arms crossed, scrolling through his phone like he was seconds away from texting me to hurry up.

  Tall like our dad, with short-cropped hair and a face that always looked vaguely annoyed, he was the opposite of me in every way. People never thought we were related.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He was dressed simply—a t-shirt, jeans, sneakers—like he had barely put in effort to be here. Which, knowing Hiro, he probably hadn’t.

  My parents had insisted that he pick me up.

  With my flight landing at 4 AM on a Saturday, they didn’t want me taking an Uber across the city. Instead, I was supposed to stay at their house, recover, and head back to my apartment on Sunday.

  I hadn’t fought them on it.

  Now, as I wheeled my suitcase toward Hiro, he glanced up, his expression unreadable.

  “Yo.”

  I exhaled. “Hey.”

  His gaze barely lingered on me before it shifted past me—toward the exit, toward something else.

  I followed his line of sight.

  And there they were.

  Ethan and Leo.

  Standing near the doors, waiting for their own rides.

  Not speaking.

  Not looking at each other.

  But both of them, unmistakably, looking at me.

  I swallowed.

  Hiro’s gaze flicked back to me. His expression barely changed, but I could tell—he had noticed.

  I acted quickly. “Hey,” I said, forcing a tired sigh. “Can you grab my duffel? I feel air sick.”

  Hiro’s focus shifted immediately. “You need to sit?”

  I shook my head. “Just—bags first.”

  He huffed, but didn’t argue, reaching down to grab my carry-on.

  I exhaled, keeping my gaze forward, not looking back.

  But I could still feel them watching.

  Friday, 6:50 PM – The Question

  As we stepped out into the cool early-morning air, Hiro adjusted my duffel over his shoulder.

  Then, too casually, he asked,

  “Who were those guys?”

  I glanced at him, pretending not to understand. “Who?”

  Hiro didn’t take the bait. “The tall one who only has one expression,” he said, unlocking the trunk, “and the guy who looks like he sells counterfeit Taylor Swift concert tickets.”

  A startled laugh escaped me. “Oh my god.”

  Hiro smirked. “So?”

  I shook my head, loading my suitcase into the trunk. “Just colleagues.”

  “Sure,” he said, not even pretending to believe me.

  We didn’t talk much on the drive. The quiet felt comfortable, familiar.

  But as we got closer to home, Hiro broke the silence.

  “You’re okay though, right?”

  I looked out the window, watching the familiar streets blur past.

  I should’ve just said yes.

  That was the easy answer.

  But instead, I hesitated.

  Then, finally, I murmured, “Yeah.”

  Then, softer—“I will be.”

  Hiro didn’t push.

  He just nodded once, like that was enough for him.

  And then he let it go.

  Saturday, 6:00 PM – The Unspoken Question

  Dinner was the same as it had always been.

  Mom poured miso soup into bowls, carefully placing each one in front of us, portioning rice and food onto small plates.

  I helped, moving beside her without thinking, the rhythm of it automatic.

  It was comforting.

  It was simple.

  At the table, Dad and Hiro were already deep into an argument about something pointless.

  “No, you don’t need a new coffee machine,” Dad said, waving his chopsticks at Hiro.

  Hiro scowled, scooping more rice into his bowl. “It’s old.”

  “Old doesn’t mean broken.”

  “It doesn’t not mean broken.”

  Mom sighed, setting down the last soup for herself. “Enough, you two. Eat before it gets cold.”

  I bit back a small smile, letting the warmth of the moment settle over me.

  For the first time in days, I felt untangled.

  Then Hiro, mouth half-full of rice, glanced at me and said, “By the way, those two guys were staring at you at the airport.”

  I froze mid-reach for my soup.

  Dad arched a brow but said nothing.

  I turned to Hiro slowly. “What?”

  Hiro swallowed, completely unfazed. “The two guys. The tall one who looked like he was brooding about world hunger, and the other one who looked like he was planning a heist.”

  I kicked him under the table.

  Hiro grunted but didn’t call me out.

  Mom, who had been watching the exchange, set down her chopsticks, took a measured sip of soup, and then turned to Hiro.

  “Do you want more soup?”

  Hiro blinked at her. “Huh?”

  She smiled. “More soup?”

  A beat of silence.

  Then Hiro shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

  Mom refilled his bowl.

  And just like that, the conversation moved on.

  I didn’t know if she had let it go—or if she was just waiting for me to be ready to talk.

  Either way, I wasn’t ready yet.

  For now, I just wanted to stay right here.

  Where it was quiet.

  Where I didn’t have to choose.

  Sunday, 8:00 PM – The Internal Debate

  I lay on my couch, one hand resting on Mochi’s warm fur as he curled beside me, purring softly.

  I had spent the entire day trying not to think.

  It hadn’t worked.

  My mind kept circling back—to Ethan. To Leo. To the way everything felt so much heavier now.

  I kept asking myself the same question:

  Why do I keep going back to Leo?

  I knew Ethan was the right choice. Logically.

  Ethan was steady, reliable, certain. He had never made me chase him, never made me question where I stood.

  But Leo—Leo was still there.

  And I hated that he was still there.

  Because I didn’t know if it was because I still wanted him, or because I hadn’t let go yet.

  Leo had always drawn me in. He was unpredictable, relentless, effortlessly charming.

  When he wanted to, he made me feel like I was the only person in his world.

  And when that happened, I only saw him.

  But that wasn’t all he was.

  He was also exhausting.

  Frustrating.

  A constant push and pull, never fully giving, never fully taking.

  And I knew—I knew—that would never change.

  Ethan, on the other hand, was the opposite.

  He didn’t make me chase him.

  He was just there.

  Waiting.

  But maybe that was the problem.

  Maybe I wasn’t used to something so simple.

  Something so easy.

  And that terrified me.

  Because what if I finally chose certainty—and I didn’t know what to do with it?

  I sighed, rubbing my temples.

  I wasn’t going to figure this out tonight.

  But I did know one thing.

  Something needed to change.

  I couldn’t keep working like this.

  I needed space—from both of them.

  Tomorrow, I was going to talk to Hannah.

  Because I couldn’t control my feelings.

  But there were still some things I could control.