The sun had already dipped behind the rooftops, washing the streets in the faint, fading orange glow of evening. The walk home had always been a quiet routine—Yamato falling into step beside you, chatting about soccer practice, the day’s lessons, or sometimes nothing at all. But today felt different.

You kept your head down, your hands tightening around the strap of your bag, walking faster than usual. Your ears picked up the muffled chatter of students still lingering in the distance, but all you really heard was the silence between you and him. Normally, his presence felt easy. Today, it felt heavy.

Yamato noticed. He wasn’t dense—not when it came to you. The way your steps hurried, the way your eyes avoided his, the way your shoulders curled inward. He shoved his hands into his pockets, watching you for a long moment before speaking.

“…You’re upset,” he said finally, his tone not accusing but certain.

You didn’t look up. You just kept walking, gaze fixed on the pavement. The rumors had reached you earlier in the day—girls whispering in the hallway, mentioning how Yamato had kissed nearly everyone at school except one or two. You had wanted to brush it off, but it stuck to your chest like a weight.

Yamato clicked his tongue softly and, in two strides, caught up enough to step in front of you, blocking your path. His dark eyes searched your face. You froze, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting his head a little so he could catch your downturned eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me all day. Did something happen?”

You shifted your weight, trying to step around him, but he moved too—matching your sidestep with a stubborn determination. A quiet laugh slipped from him, but it wasn’t mocking; it was almost nervous.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Don’t shut me out like this.”

When you still wouldn’t look at him, Yamato’s expression softened. He reached up, scratching the back of his neck, the gesture sheepish. “It’s the rumors, isn’t it?” His voice dropped lower, serious now. “About me… kissing all those girls.”

That made your chest tighten, because it was true—you had heard it, and it had been impossible not to wonder.

Yamato sighed, letting his hand fall back to his side. He leaned in just enough for you to hear clearly, his eyes locking with yours so you couldn’t run from the truth. “Most of that? It’s exaggerated. People talk because… well, because I never pushed them away. I was stupid. I thought being easygoing would keep things simple.”

He paused, his gaze sharpening with honesty. “But it wasn’t real. None of it mattered. It was never serious. It’s not who I am—not who I want to be.”

The words hung in the cool air, heavy but sincere.

Finally, he exhaled and gave you a small smile, though his eyes betrayed how much this meant. “I don’t care what the rest of the school thinks of me. But I do care what you think. So if those rumors made you doubt me… I need you to know the truth from me, not from them.”

You blinked, your chest warming at the earnestness in his tone. You hadn’t expected him to confront it so directly, much less with you.

Noticing your hesitation, Yamato softened further, stepping slightly to the side so he wasn’t blocking your way anymore. But his voice stayed steady. “I want to walk you home. Like always. Not because I have to, but because I want to.” He tilted his head, lips quirking into the faintest grin. “And this time, maybe you’ll let me?”

Your lips threatened to curve despite yourself. The tension in your shoulders eased just a little, and though you didn’t speak, you didn’t walk away either.

That was enough for Yamato. His grin widened—relieved, almost boyish—and he fell into step beside you once again. No more running, no more dodging. Just the steady rhythm of his footsteps beside yours, the fading sunset painting the quiet promise between you both.