Midnight Regret | SANO. Manjirou (Sequel)

Chapter twenty three

As Mikey and I make our way upstairs, I can feel the tension building with each step. The air between us feels thick, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. My heart pounds in my chest, and my mind races with thoughts of what I’m going to say, what I need to hear from him.

I glance back at Mikey, watching as he follows me, his hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes downcast. There's something different in the way he carries himself now, like he’s bracing himself for something—something that neither of us can quite name yet.

W

hen we reach my room, I open the door and step inside, the familiar comfort of my space wrapping around me. I leave the door slightly ajar, waiting for Mikey to follow before I quietly close it behind him. The soft click of the door closing echoes louder than it should, and for a moment, the only sound is the quiet rustle of Mikey shifting awkwardly in place.

He glances around the room, his eyes lingering on the small details—the lavender candle burning on my nightstand, the neatly made bed, the bookshelf filled with novels I’ve read a dozen times. It’s like he’s trying to ground himself in anything other than the conversation we’re about to have. Finally, he turns back to me, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

"Sasuke won’t like this," he mutters, almost as if he’s saying it more to himself than to me.

I let out a small, soft chuckle, shaking my head. "Don’t worry about Sasuke. I’ve got him under control." I smile, trying to ease some of the tension, but I can tell Mikey isn’t fully convinced. His brows furrow slightly, and he hesitates before nodding.

I walk over to my bed and sit down, patting the space next to me. "Come sit," I offer, my voice gentle but firm. "We need to talk."

Mikey doesn’t sit immediately. He hovers near the edge of the room, his gaze darting toward the door as if he’s considering leaving, but then he seems to make up his mind. He steps forward and sinks down onto the bed beside me, his posture tense, like he’s bracing for something difficult.

"I want to ask you something," he says suddenly, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

I blink in surprise, not expecting that. "Okay," I say, my tone careful. "Ask away."

He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers raking through the strands as if he’s trying to gather the courage to speak. He looks down at his hands, then back at me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

"Are you… dating South?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s something desperate in his tone, something pleading.

I stare at him for a moment, completely caught off guard by the question. South? That’s what this is about? I almost laugh, the absurdity of it catching me off guard, but when I see the seriousness in Mikey’s expression, I swallow the laugh and try to keep my tone light.

"No, I’m not dating South," I say, shaking my head with a small smile. "Even when he confessed, I turned him down. I don’t like him that way—he’s just a friend."