The rooftop was quiet, the kind of quiet you could only find above the noise of the school. The breeze tugged at your sleeves as you sat near the edge, knees drawn to your chest, staring out at the city. Spring had arrived, and the cherry trees below swayed in pink clusters, petals drifting into the wind like forgotten promises.

You didn’t hear the door open behind you—but you heard his voice.

“You’re quitting?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

Maki stepped closer, his shoes scraping softly against the concrete. He stopped a few feet away, just enough space to give you the choice—to speak, or stay silent.

“I heard from Minji,” he said. “She said you left the studio early. That you told the teacher you’re done.”