“I’ve been waiting so long to hear that,” she whispers, her voice muffled against him.

  Jiko feels his heart race—his chest tightens and releases all at once. He ’t remember the st time he felt this alive, this relieved. It’s like a weight he didn’t even realize he was carrying has finally been lifted off his chest. For the first time in weeks, everything feels lighter—brighter.

  They sit there in silence, simply holding each other, the autumn leaves driftily around them—like a quiet wito this newfound e. Jiko feels a warmth he hasn’t felt in ages, as though something inside him has finally shifted. He doesn’t have to pretend anymore. He doesn’t have to push things aside or hide his feelings. Because Julie feels the same—she’s here with him, in this moment, sharing this burden together.

  “I didn’t thought you will ever feel this way,” Julie says, pulling slightly away from the hug, her eyes searg his. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  Jiko swallows hard, trying to find the right words. “I guess I was scared. Scared of what would happen if I let myself care... And especially… scared of losing you. I didn’t want to mess things up.”

  Julie leans back slightly, her expression softening. “You didn’t mess anything up. But I’ve been feeling the same—fused, unsure of where we stand. And I hated the thought of losing you, too.”

  Jiko chuckles softly, his heart swelling. “Yeah, well… better te than never, right?”

  They sit in fortable silence again for a while, the world around them slowly fading away. The autumn breeze gently rustles the leaves above, carrying the st of earth and rain, creating a calm yet electric backdrop to their versation. Jiko feels an overwhelming sense of relief—finally being open, truly seen. It’s a relief unlike anything he’s felt in months—perhaps even years.

  But soon, the memories—of everything that had e before—start to creep bato his mind. The rumors, the whispers in the school hallways, the awkward enters with friends. He knows those won’t just disappear, no matter how good things feel between them now. And suddenly, the fear from before returns, sharper and more pressing.

  Julie must notice the shift in his expression because she leans clain, her voice quieter. “What’s on your mind?”

  Jiko sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just worried about what es . About eople will say, how they’ll react. This school… it doesn’t take long for rumors to spiral. And now that we’re… like this…”

  Julie frowns slightly. “So, you’re worried about what everyone else thinks?”

  Jiko hesitates. “It’s not just that. It’s… I don’t want things to get plicated between us. I don’t want you to get caught up in all of this.”

  Julie straightens, her voice firm now. “Caught up in what? Jiko, this isn’t just about what other people think. It’s about us. You don’t have to carry this alone. If you care about me, then be ho. Don’t hide anymore. You don’t have to run from this.”

  Jiko feels the weight of her words sink in, and for the first time, he realizes she’s right. They ’t trol how others react, but they trol how they ha—together. There’s no point in running anymore. No point iending.

  He looks at Julie again, searg her eyes, and something in him finally gives. “You’re right,” he says softly. “I don’t want to hide. I want to be with you—whatever es .”

  Actually, Jiko was talking about move on from the past timeline.

  Julie’s face lights up once more, and she reaches for his hand, g her fingers with his. “Good. Because I want the same.”

  In that moment, as the leaves swirl around them, Jiko feels something shift inside him—something that has been ag to break free. And though they’ve only just started, he knows this isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of something real. Something sting.

  And as they sit there together, their hawihey know they’ll face whatever es —rumors, whispers, and the uain future—together.

  The days that follow feel like something out of a storybook—unbelievably perfect yet fraught with an undercurrent of uainty. Jiko and Julie have decided to keep their newfouionship a secret for now. They’re both cautious, worried about how their families—and especially especially Jiko’s family—might react if they were to find out. It’s thrilling, yes, but it’s also nerve-wrag.

  At school, they exge shy smiles in the hallways, their fingers brushing lightly against each other when no one’s watg. It’s subtle, but in those small touches, they find reassurance—a quiet assurahat this isn’t just some fleeting crush. During lunch, they steal moments together, finding quiet ers where they talk without interruption. They share stories—school stories, family stories, even dreams about what their future might look like. It feels safe in those moments—like they’re the only two people in the world who really uand each other.

  One evening, Julie calls Jiko after everyone in her house has goo bed. Her voice is soft, but there’s an unmistakable excitemeh her words. “I’ve been thinking about our future,” she says, the words almost spilling from her before she stop them. “Do you think… do you think we’ll always feel this way?”

  There’s a pause oher end of the line. Jiko almost hear the tentative hope in her voice. He takes a breath, thinking carefully before he answers. “I don’t know what the future holds, Julie,” he says, his voice quieter than usual, weighted with a kind of quiet hoy. “But I know how I feel right now. And… that’s enough for me.”

  Her breath catches on the line, and for a moment, there’s a lull of silence—soft, like they’re both holding their collective breath, waiting for something more. But Julie eventually sighs, breaking the quiet. “That’s all I o hear.”

  Their secret retionship slowly begins to deepen their bond. They start learning more about each other—things her of them ever shared with anyone before. Jiko opens up about his struggles with his family, about the pressures he feels as the younger sibling to live up to expectations. Julie, in turn, reveals her own battles—how she’s always felt a little lost in the shuffle at school, unsure of where she truly belongs.