Chapter 20 — Echoes of the Past
The arrival of Satsuki Aihara sent ripples through the entire class.
Everyone remembered her. How could they not? Satsuki had been the embodiment of confidence and control.
With just a glance, she could manipulate a group, sow discord, or silence whispers. Her absence had felt like the lifting of a storm cloud. But now, the sky had darkened once again.
She wasn't loud or disruptive—not in the obvious sense. She sat in the back, smiled when called on, and greeted teachers politely.
But her presence was a constant hum beneath the surface, like a dissonant note in a perfect melody.
Elira felt it immediately.
At first, it was just glances. Then whispers. A few students who had begun to open up to the twins now hesitated before speaking to them. Some even pulled away altogether. The warmth of the post-festival days began to cool.
Kaito noticed, of course.
And he didn't hesitate.
"I want you two to stick with me more than ever," he said to Elira and Elena during lunch. "If she tries anything—"
"She hasn't," Elira interrupted. "Not yet."
"But she will." Elena's eyes were sharp. "I can feel it."
Elira didn't respond. She stared at her hands, fingers curled slightly.
"I thought I was done being afraid," she whispered.
"You are," Kaito said firmly. "You're just remembering how strong you've become."
...
But memory was a cruel thing.
That Friday, as the students left the classroom in pairs and small groups, Satsuki approached.
She stood in front of Elira's desk, tilting her head.
"It's been a while," she said, voice smooth. "You look different."
Elira met her gaze. "People change."
"They do. Some more than others."
She looked toward Kaito, who was already standing beside Elira, arms crossed.
"I don't think we've met," she said to him.
"We have now," Kaito replied evenly. "And I know exactly who you are."
Satsuki's smile faltered just slightly. But only for a moment.
"Protective, are you? How noble."
"Just decent."
"I see. So this is what high school turned into—fairytales and bodyguards."
Elira stood up. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.
"You don't get to come back and pretend nothing happened."
Satsuki blinked. "I'm not pretending. I'm observing. Seems you've bloomed quite a bit. Makes me wonder what kind of soil helped that happen."
Elena stepped between them. "Try anything, and you'll wish you stayed gone."
A pause. Then a chuckle. "Relax. I'm not here to stir up the past. Just catching up."
She turned and walked away, her long hair swaying. But Elira's stomach twisted. Because Satsuki didn't need to shout or insult.
She planted seeds. And waited for them to grow.
...
Over the weekend, Kaito insisted they take a break from everything.
He invited the twins to visit a quiet spot by the lake just outside town. It was a place he used to go with his grandfather—a peaceful hideaway tucked between trees and still water.
The day was calm, the sky overcast but kind. They brought snacks, books, and Elena's camera. Kaito even borrowed a small portable speaker and played soft instrumentals while they sat on a picnic blanket.
It was the first time in days that Elira truly smiled.
They read. They napped. Elena sketched dragonflies by the water's edge. Kaito lay with his arms behind his head, eyes half-closed.
"This place feels safe," Elira murmured.
"It is," he said. "Because you're here."
He turned his head toward her.
"I want you to know… I'm not going anywhere. No matter what ghosts show up."
She looked down.
"There are parts of me I still hate," she said. "Moments I remember and wish I could erase. And when I saw her—Satsuki—it was like those moments came back to life."
"I know."
"But you made them quieter."
He reached for her hand.
"You made them smaller," she added.
He gently squeezed her fingers.
"You made me want to believe that I'm not broken."
"You're not," he whispered. "You're just… healing."
She rested her head on his shoulder. "That's scarier than being numb."
"I know. But it's worth it."
The next week at school, the tension lingered—but it didn't consume.
Kaito stayed close. Elena kept her eyes sharp. And Elira began to carry herself with a quiet steadiness that surprised even her.
Satsuki, true to her word—or lie—didn't directly attack. But she made her presence known. Her words were subtle. Her laughter, always a touch too loud when Elira was nearby.
Her stories, sprinkled with familiar details from middle school days, told in the presence of people who now hesitated to remember which side they had stood on.
It wore at Elira.
But she didn't fold.
On Wednesday, a surprising thing happened.
A girl named Mizuki—someone who had once laughed at the twins behind their backs—approached Elira at lunch.
"I heard what she said. About you. That story she told…" Mizuki fidgeted. "It wasn't true, was it?"
Elira looked up, surprised. "No. It wasn't."
"I thought so. It didn't sound like you."
"Thank you for asking."
Mizuki gave her a small, awkward smile. "People change, right?"
Elira nodded. "They do."
It wasn't a victory. But it was something.
...
That night, she sat on the roof with Kaito again. The stars were clearer than usual.
"I think I'm starting to understand," she said.
"Understand what?"
"That happiness isn't about being free from pain. It's about having someone to face it with."
Kaito smiled, then leaned in close.
"And you're not alone."
She looked at him, heart beating faster. "Kaito…"
He reached out and brushed her cheek.
"You make me feel like I'm not just living for others anymore," he whispered. "You make me want things. Small, quiet things."
She kissed him, soft and slow.
And when she pulled away, she was crying.
Not from sadness.
But from finally believing that someone had chosen her—not out of pity, but out of love.
Below them, the city hummed with life.
And somewhere in that sound, the echoes of old pain were slowly being drowned out by something gentler.
A new melody.
To be continued...