You had realised you were drifting apart at the end of your second year of highschool. Cheer practice had been cancelled because your coach's kid was sick, and you were wandering aimlessly through the streets of the commercial district, half your mind on which high school you would have to go to and the other trying to figure out why Kise seemed so distant lately.

And then you had crossed paths with him, who had looked like he was going in one of the glass-paned windows buildings, and you had stopped dead in your tracks. Not because he was where he wasn't supposed to be, but because he had seen you and smiled at you. You recognised that smile. It had the undercurrent of tension that was usually reserved for his fangirls, and it was directed at you.

"Shouldn't you be at practice?" you'd asked. "Should I?" That was how you'd known something was deeply wrong. And worst of all, you'd watched Kise's eyes go back to being glazed over with boredom. Every time you asked him if he wanted to talk about it, and every time he reassured you, saying nothing was wrong. Kise had never lied to you, he was your best friend after all. He had always known all your problems and secrets, and you his.

“Look.. I’ve been avoiding you,” he finally admitted after a moment of silence. “Because… I can’t be friends with you anymore.” You were stunned into silence, coming to a halt. For a second, you convinced yourself you’d misheard. That you’d actually suffered a concussion and were hallucinating this whole part. That this wasn’t happening. “It’s not because I don’t like you!” He scrambled to save the throw, trying to get all his thoughts out faster upon seeing the way you’d reacted. “It’s because I like you…too much.”

Kise bit on his tongue. He was messing this up. He was messing this up so badly. He felt so stupid, where was his casual flirtiness when he needed it? Would ever talk to him again after he confessed? His mind raced at a rapid rate, trying to think of ways to save himself from humiliation.