Kiyozune - Cold hands

Cold hands

The island nights were always colder than people expected.

By the end of the special exam, exhaustion had settled over every group like sediment - slow, inevitable, total. The usual noise of competition had finally quieted, leaving only the sound of waves and distant voices carried by the wind. Most students had already retreated to their tents.

But one light remained on.

Ayanokoji stopped in front of Horikita's tent. His hands were cold from the outside air. He pulled the entrance flap aside without announcing himself.

She was already standing.

Not because she had been waiting - that much was obvious from the way the blanket was still pulled tight around her shoulders, like she had thrown it on in a hurry the moment she heard footsteps outside. She stood near the back of the tent, keeping the full length of it between them. Her face was flushed. Her eyes, however, were as sharp as ever.

"...What are you doing here?"

Her voice came out rougher than usual.

A fever, then, Ayanokoji noted. As expected.

He stepped inside without answering and let the entrance flap fall closed behind him.

"You weren't at the strategy meeting."

"I'm aware."

"You also ignored your phone."

"I didn't realize you were monitoring me."

"Monitoring is an exaggeration."

She exhaled - not quite a scoff, not quite a sigh. Something worn and tired in between.

"If you came here to say something unnecessary, then you can leave."

"I'm here for you."

Horikita's breath caught slightly. She recovered a moment later, composure settling back into place.

He is an enemy now, she reminded herself.

"There's no reason for that. We have nothing to say to each other."

"I came to check on a friend."

The word landed quietly. Horikita let out a short, incredulous laugh - the kind that didn't reach her eyes, worn thin by exhaustion and something harder to name.

"We both know you've never truly viewed anyone as a friend. Let alone me."

It should have sounded harsh. Instead, the exhaustion had worn the edge off it. It came out almost sad.

Ayanokoji said nothing for a moment. Then he stepped forward.

She didn't move - didn't want to let him unsettle her - but her grip on the blanket tightened slightly.

"If you don't have anything intelligible to say, then get out."

"You still haven't directly asked me to leave."

"What?"

"If you genuinely wanted me gone," he said, "you would have said it clearly already."

He stepped closer.

Her chin lifted. "Get out."

Another step.