Unraveling the calm

Chapter VIII

Ayano barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Budo's intense gaze, heard his words repeating like a mantra: I'm the only one who truly understands you. It sent a chill down her spine, not because she feared him—but because she feared the part of herself that didn't want to let go.

The next morning, she stood before the mirror, smoothing out her uniform. Her reflection was calm, composed, unshaken. But beneath the surface, her mind was a storm.

She had to stay focused. Taro was the goal. He always had been. Yet, as she left the house and walked toward Akademi, she couldn't stop the creeping thought that maybe, just maybe, Budo had become something else—a distraction, a rival, or worse, a temptation.

The day passed in agonizing slowness. Ayano kept her distance from Taro, not wanting to risk another encounter with Budo. But her resolve wavered when lunch rolled around, and she spotted Taro sitting beneath a tree in the courtyard. Alone.

She hesitated, her hands tightening into fists. This was her chance to make progress, to remind herself why she was doing all of this. But before she could take a step, a voice spoke from behind her.

"Thinking about making your move?"

She turned sharply to find Budo standing there, his arms crossed and an infuriatingly smug look on his face.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she snapped, her tone sharper than usual.

Budo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her irritation. "You know, for someone so good at hiding in the shadows, you're not very subtle when you're staring at him like that."

"Leave me alone," Ayano said through clenched teeth, trying to push past him.

But Budo didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "What's your plan, Ayano? Wait until he notices you? Or are you going to make sure no one else gets the chance to steal him away?"

Her blood ran cold. His words were too close to the truth, too close to the dark thoughts she tried to bury.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice barely steady.

"Oh, I think you do," Budo replied, his smirk fading into something more serious. "You're not the only one willing to do whatever it takes, you know. I've done my own share of... unsavory things."

Ayano's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying," Budo said, stepping closer, "that you're not as alone as you think you are. You don't have to hide from me, Ayano. I see you. The real you. And I'm not scared."

Her heart raced, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She hated how much his words affected her, how they stirred something deep inside that she didn't want to acknowledge.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

Budo's gaze softened, but his intensity didn't waver. "Because I know what it's like to want something so badly it consumes you. And because I can see you're losing control. You think you're unstoppable, but you're not. Not alone."

For a moment, Ayano didn't know what to say. His words were like a lifeline and a dagger all at once, cutting through her defenses and offering something she couldn't quite grasp.

"I don't need your help," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Budo smiled faintly, but there was no amusement in it. "Maybe not. But I think you'll come to realize that having me on your side is better than the alternative."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Ayano standing there, her mind racing. She hated how easily he could unnerve her, how he seemed to see through her so completely. But more than that, she hated the small, dark part of herself that wanted to believe him.

As she turned back toward Taro, she realized with a sinking feeling that she couldn't focus on him anymore—not with Budo's shadow looming over her.

This wasn't just about Taro or her plans. This was a battle she hadn't anticipated, one that had nothing to do with her original goal. And for the first time, Ayano wasn't sure who would win.