SUB ROSA | Wind Breaker

Arc 3 || 6. Dancing with Ghosts

Akame found herself replaying Kaji's words over and over, each syllable reverberating in her mind like an anchor she both resented and depended on. "Fuck stupid boys"—the words had been harsh, but there had been something raw and honest in his tone, a simple truth that struck her deeply. And maybe, just maybe, he was right. The boys in her life, with their tangled mix of closeness and distance, had only left her feeling more confused. The push and pull, the almost-kisses and hasty retreats, the fleeting moments of connection—all of it had created a twisted knot of emotions she couldn't untangle.

She tried to focus on Kaji's clarity, to push herself to finally create some distance, to stop feeling like she was caught in a whirlwind of desires that weren't her own. It felt like a logical choice, a way to regain control. But as the days passed, she found the decision beginning to close her off more than she'd anticipated.

She avoided Furin as much as she could, dodging the gym and the rooftop—spaces that had once been familiar, almost comforting, but now felt charged with memories and half-formed connections. And with each missed day, each lost moment, her friendship with the boys—Suo, Sakura, and Nirie—began to strain. It wasn't that she didn't care; she simply couldn't bear the thought of getting caught up again, of letting them into a place that still felt raw and vulnerable.

And as much as it hurt, she couldn't face Togame or Choji either. Togame was a reminder of an almost-love, a friendship edged with unspoken feelings she couldn't untangle; and Choji, bound so tightly to Togame, was a link to a part of herself she wasn't ready to face. She wanted space, wanted control, but the more she tried to find it, the more she found herself isolated, stranded in a loneliness she didn't know how to escape.

Without her usual routines, she was left to her own thoughts, the silence around her growing heavy and oppressive. She would catch herself slipping into memories, replaying moments with Umemiya, Suo, and Togame, dissecting each expression, each word. She would analyze their words and actions until they no longer made sense, only to hear Kaji's voice cut through her thoughts again, reminding her of the simplicity she'd been trying to embrace. "Fuck stupid boys."

But without the distractions, without the boys around to pull her out of her head, she found herself spiraling, sinking deeper into a place where her own thoughts felt like her worst enemy. The small decision to pull back, to regain control, was slowly unraveling her from the inside out, leaving her feeling more fragile and exposed than ever before.

And yet, she didn't know how to stop it, didn't know how to step back into the world she'd so carefully distanced herself from.

~

Yuta had been watching Akame more closely since that night—since he'd found her crying in Kaji's arms, her face streaked with tears, her expression broken in a way he hadn't seen before. She'd been quieter ever since, slipping further from her usual routines, becoming more distant with each passing day. She was there physically, but he could tell her mind was somewhere far away. And it worried him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had happened with Kaji that night had left a lasting mark on her. He wanted to ask, to understand, but each time he opened his mouth, he held back, uncertain if he'd only push her further away.

One evening, as they sat in the living room, he decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. She was curled up on the other end of the couch, her focus seemingly absorbed in the book she held, her gaze fixed, distant, as though even the words on the page couldn't fully draw her in.

Yuta took a breath, steeling himself, and leaned forward, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

"Help me understand," he said quietly.