A Different Script

The World Moves Without Me

The two sat there in silence for a moment. The echoes of their earlier lines still lingered in the air. The faint scent of dust and sweat from the stage lights hung heavy.

“You think they’ll actually wait for him?” Kana finally asked.

“They said they will.”

“Yeah, but producers lie all the time. If they think he won’t come back, they’ll replace him.”

“They won’t.”

Kana looked up at her, frowning. “You sound sure.”

“I am. Aqua’s not someone you replace.”

Kana opened her mouth to argue, but then stopped. There was truth in Akane’s tone — quiet, sharp, and absolute.

After a long pause, Kana’s voice softened.
“I still can’t believe he—” She stopped herself. “You know.”

Akane’s eyes lowered. “I know.”

“Do you think he’s… in pain?”

Akane hesitated.
“I think he’s pretending not to be.”

Kana sighed. “That sounds like him.”

They both knew what that meant. Aqua would rather drown than let anyone see him struggle.

Akane started gathering her things. “Let’s go. You’ll overthink if we stay here.”

Kana groaned but followed, dragging her bag along the floor. “You talk like my therapist.”

“I’m cheaper.”

“And meaner.”

Akane smirked. “Someone has to keep you alive.”

As they reached the door, Kana glanced back one last time at the dark stage — at the empty mark with Aqua’s name still taped to the floor.

“He better come back soon,” she muttered. “This place feels dead without him.”

Akane didn’t respond, but her silence said the same thing.

Outside, the night was cool.
The city lights reflected off puddles from an earlier rain. Cars hummed by, and the faint smell of street food drifted from the corner stalls. For a brief second, it almost felt normal.

Kana shoved her hands into her pockets. “You hungry?”

Akane blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Kana shoved her hands into her pockets. “There’s that ramen place across the street. It’s open late.”

Akane hesitated — then nodded. “Alright.”

They walked side by side, the sound of their shoes on wet pavement filling the gaps their words couldn’t yet. Inside, the ramen shop was small and warm, the kind of place that smelled like broth and nostalgia. A faint song played from an old radio behind the counter.

They sat at the far end, by the window.

Kana didn’t look at her when she said, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier. About you being insane.”

Akane gave a small, almost invisible smile. “You meant it at the time. It’s fine.”

Kana frowned into her bowl. “Still. You didn’t deserve that.”

Akane stirred her noodles slowly. “I think we both said things we didn’t mean.”

That quiet honesty — it disarmed Kana more than any argument ever could.

For a few minutes, they just ate. No pressure. No tension. Just two tired girls sitting in the same storm.

Then Kana spoke again, softer this time. “Do you think he’s gonna be okay?”

Akane didn’t answer right away. She lifted her gaze, her expression unreadable but gentle. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

Kana stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah… I know.”

There was something comforting about hearing it from her, even if Kana didn’t know the whole story.

When they finished eating, Kana leaned back in her seat, letting out a small laugh. “You know, this is weird. You and me. Actually talking.”

Akane smiled faintly. “It’s not that weird.”

“It is,” Kana said, smirking. “You used to look at me like I was the problem.”

“And you used to act like you were.”

Kana blinked — then actually laughed. “Okay, fair.”

The shopkeeper called out something cheerful as they paid. When they stepped outside, the air was cold but fresh. The moon peeked through the clouds, pale and distant.

Akane opened her umbrella and held it halfway over Kana. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Kana rolled her eyes but stepped closer. “Thanks.”

For a while, they walked quietly under that single umbrella, their reflections gliding together across puddles. It wasn’t friendship yet — but it was peace.

And somewhere far away, in a dim hospital room, Aqua’s eyes stayed open in the dark — unaware that, for once, two of the people who’d always been divided by him were finally standing on the same side.