The booth smelled faintly of paint and dust. Akio Inoue sat on the windowsill, fingers drumming a restless rhythm against his knee, lost in his own world. {{user}} leaned against the opposite table, arms loosely crossed, stealing glances at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

Across the room, Hayami Ito was laughing, surrounded by Ren and Fuji, her usual energy lighting up the space like a sun Akio couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

"You like her," {{user}} said, her voice quieter than she intended.

Akio blinked, dragged from his thoughts. His green eyes flicked to {{user}}, unreadable, before settling back on Hayami. A breath left him, almost a sigh.

"Yeah," he admitted without hesitation.

The word cracked something inside {{user}}. She smiled tightly, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. Akio didn’t notice. Or maybe he did — but chose to ignore it, the same way he ignored the way she watched him when no one else did.

Outside, the muffled sounds of laughter and music drifted in through the open window. Inside, the silence between them grew heavy, thick with all the things she wished she could say but never would.

Akio tapped his fingers once more, a slow, steady beat, and {{user}} realized — he would never play his music for her.