The karaoke room finally fell silent.
A moment ago it had been filled with off-key singing, loud laughter, and dramatic performances that should never be spoken of again. Now, only the faint echo of their voices remained, clinging to the walls like a memory that refused to leave.
The door slid open, and one by one, they stepped out into the cooler evening air.
"Ohh man, all my energy is gone," one of the boys groaned, stretching his arms like he had just survived a battle.
"Same," another replied, rubbing his throat. "I think I lost my voice somewhere in there."
Minato let out a weak cough, placing a hand on his chest. "You think that's bad? My voice is completely broken."
As if on cue, his next attempt to speak cracked so badly it sounded like a malfunctioning instrument.
The group went quiet for half a second.
Then—
laughter exploded.
"Ahh Minato, your problem is worse than ours… our poor boy," one of them said, trying and failing to stay serious.
Minato pointed at him, offended. "You're laughing now, but when I become a famous singer, I won't forgive any of you."
"That's never happening," someone replied immediately.
More laughter followed.
A girl brushed her hair back, smiling brightly. "But honestly, it was really fun. We should do this again sometime."
"Why not?" one of the boys said.
"Of course," another girl agreed. "Next time we'll pick harder songs."
"That's a threat," Minato muttered.
"Exactly," she replied with a grin.
The group lingered for a while longer, exchanging small comments, reliving the funniest moments, teasing each other over missed notes and dramatic failures. The night had settled comfortably around them, the earlier noise replaced by a softer rhythm of conversations and footsteps.
Eventually, as all things do, the moment began to thin.
"Alright, I should head home," someone said.
"Yeah, me too."
"See you tomorrow."
"Don't forget the homework."
"Don't remind me."
One by one, they began to part ways, waving, laughing, stretching out the goodbye just a little longer than necessary.
Until—
only a few remained.
And then—
only two.
Shin Hitori glanced to the side.
"So… only we two left, huh?" he said.
Tachi stood beside him, hands loosely by his sides. "Hmm… yeah."
A brief silence passed between them, not awkward, just unfamiliar.
Then Tachi looked ahead, thinking for a moment.
"Since we're going in the same direction… and we still have some time," she said slowly, "why don't we spend a little more time before heading home?"
Hitori considered it.
Not long.
Just enough.
"I guess… yeah. We can go," he replied.
Tachi smiled lightly. "Alright then. Let's go."
They began walking, not in a hurry, letting the night guide their pace. The streets were quieter now, lit by scattered streetlights and the occasional glow from open shops. The noise of the earlier crowd had faded into something distant, something softer.
They talked about...
But it didn't feel forced.
After a short walk, they stepped into a small café tucked between two buildings. A bell chimed softly as the door opened.
Inside, it was warm and calm.
The kind of place where time slowed down without asking.
They ordered simple food and sat across from each other.
For a while, it was just the sound of cutlery and quiet background music.
They talked a little more after that.
Small things.
Nothing heavy.
Nothing complicated.
But somehow—
it felt different.
After finishing their food, they stepped outside again.
The air had cooled further.
The streets had grown emptier.
They walked side by side, their footsteps echoing softly against the pavement.
"I really enjoyed today," Tachi said, a small smile on her face.
Tachi glanced in side briefly.
"…Yeah. Same here."
And this time—
he didn't sound uninterested.
They reached a point where the road split into two.
One path dimly lit.
The other a little brighter, but quieter.
Tachi stopped.
"So… this is where I go," she said.
She turned slightly. "See you in the library."
Shin nodded.
"Ok…"
Tachi took a step forward—
"No, wait."
Tachi paused and turned back. "Hm? What?"
Hitori looked down the darker path for a second.
Then back at him.
"…It's really dark here," he said. "I'll walk you home."
Tachi blinked.
Just once.
Surprised.
"Ah… I—thanks," she said, a little unsure. "I really appreciate it… but you'll be late too."
"Don't worry. It's fine."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No overthinking.
Just a simple statement.
Tachi studied his expression for a moment.
Then smiled softly.
"…Okay. If you say so."
They walked again.
This time down the darker road.
Streetlights stretched farther apart here, leaving pockets of shadow between them.
But neither of them seemed to mind.
Their footsteps filled the quiet.
Their presence—
just enough to push the silence away.
And for once—
Hitori wasn't just walking beside someone.
He had chosen to.