Inevitable Intertwining

Hidden Variables

By now, texting Kenma had become part of Hana's daily equation.
She solved chemistry problems during lunch breaks and solved Kenma's late-night "what game should I play?" dilemmas after hours.
They didn't label what they had-not yet. But Hana knew, deep in her mitochondria, that it was real. That it mattered.

Their messages were simple, light. Yet every pixel felt heavier with a secret thrill.

Kenma:
This exhibit looks fun.
A picture of a glowing nebula model in the science museum.

Hana:
I'm already outside, don't you dare go in without me.

Kenma:
:|
Fine.

She had been looking forward to this all week.

The Tokyo Science Museum was vast, dreamy, and not overcrowded on a Saturday morning-just the way she liked it. Kenma showed up in a grey hoodie and cap, looking lowkey but weirdly... cute. He didn't look like a gamer boy pulled into a date. He looked like hers.

"Is that the mitochondria display?" she gasped, already skipping toward the glowing interactive exhibit. "Kenma, look! It moves when you touch the membrane."

He blinked. "You're too excited about a cell."

"And you're not excited enough. We need balance," she grinned, poking his side.

They moved through space exhibits, optical illusions, and a rotating projection room that made them both dizzy. Somewhere between making a model volcano explode and sitting through a simulated earthquake, Kenma took a photo of Hana when she wasn't looking-smiling at a display about chaotic systems.

He saved it.

They were about to head to the museum's rooftop garden for a break when-

Hana's phone buzzed.

Not just a message.

A video call.

KAGEYAMA.

Her spine straightened. Kenma noticed the shift in her eyes immediately.

She hesitated before picking up, trying to angle her phone away from any reflections.

"Hey," she said, too cheerful.

On-screen, Kageyama looked bored and mildly irritated, in that typical Kageyama being a control freak about Hana way.

"Where are you?" he asked flatly.

"Out."

"Out where?"

"I'm just... getting some air."

"Who're you with?"

There it was.
The question. The suspicion.

Hana's throat dried. Kenma quietly leaned against a nearby pillar, looking away, trying to pretend he wasn't listening-but every nerve in his body was tuned into this moment.

"I'm alone," Hana answered softly, her fingers tightening around her phone. "Just... walking around."

A long silence.

Kageyama's brows furrowed. "Call me when you're home."

Hana nodded. "Okay."

He hung up without a goodbye.

She let out a slow exhale, heart pounding. Her fingers trembled just a bit as she lowered her phone.

Kenma didn't say anything at first.

Then, in his quiet voice: "Are you okay?"

Hana nodded, trying to summon a smile. "Yeah... it's just-Kageyama. He worries too much."

Kenma stared at her for a moment longer, then looked away toward the sky-lit atrium.

"Must be exhausting... being someone else's shadow all the time."

Hana blinked.

She didn't expect him to say that.

But when she looked at him-really looked-she didn't see judgment. Just... understanding. Deep, silent, impossible understanding.

And maybe something more.

"Not with you," she said softly.

Kenma turned toward her.

And smiled.

They didn't talk about Kageyama again for the rest of the day. Instead, they watched star simulations, argued over Pluto's demotion, and bought identical astronaut keychains from the gift shop.

But as they walked back toward the station, Kenma's pinky brushed against hers.

And she didn't pull away.