Chapter Text
The ball ended without announcement.
The lights remained on, the music still filled the hall at a low volume, but something essential had ended. People began to leave little by little, as if they instinctively knew that staying would be an intrusion. That story wasn't collective.
Rin stayed.
Not because he expected something.
But because, for the first time, he didn't feel like running away.
The air was lighter without the masks, without the social games, without the need to seem unreachable. He observed the empty hall when he heard footsteps approaching—firm, familiar, inevitable.
"You always hated long goodbyes," Sae said, stopping a few steps from him.
Rin didn't turn around immediately.
"You always arrived late," he replied.
Sae accepted that defenselessly.
"I know."
The silence that formed wasn't uncomfortable. It was honest. For the first time in years, neither of them was trying to win that conversation.
"I didn't come here to ask you for anything," Sae continued. — Not even to correct the past.
Rin finally turned around.
— Then why?
Sae stared directly at him, without calculation, without rehearsed coldness.
— Because I needed to see if it was still you… or if I had created someone who no longer existed.
Rin felt something align in his chest.
— And?
— And I was wrong. — Sae took a step forward. — You're not who I left behind.
Rin held his gaze, firm.
— I'm not.
— But you're someone I would choose today.
That word carried too much weight to be said lightly.
Choose.
Not summon.
Not evaluate.
Not compare.
Rin took a deep breath.
— I don't want to live in the shadow of who you were to me — he said. — Nor be the correction of an old mistake.
Sae nodded.
— Me neither. — He paused briefly. — I want to walk alongside who you are now.
The hall seemed too small to contain it all.
Rin took a step closer.
"This won't be easy."
"It never was for me," Sae replied, almost smiling.
They stopped inches from each other. There was no rush. There was no audience. Just that old tension, now transformed into something more solid.
Rin was the first to extend his hand.
Not as a challenge.
As a choice.
Sae accepted.
The touch was simple. Real. No exaggerated promises, no dramatic oaths. Just the silent certainty that this wasn't an impulse—it was a decision.
On the other side of the hall, Shidou watched for the last time before turning his back, chuckling softly.
"Characters…" he murmured. "Always the inevitable ones."
Bunny walked through the exit without looking back, carrying with her the bitter understanding that some stories don't wait for those who hesitate.
Julian Loki simply nodded to himself, as if acknowledging an inevitable outcome.
Rin and Sae walked together to the exit.
Side by side.
No masks.
No audience.
No need to prove anything.
Because some connections don't need to be announced.
They simply… happen.
And, once started,
they can't be undone.