"Lina!"
She knew that voice.
She didn't turn right away. Not because she didn't want to — but because she already knew what was coming.
Ciel appeared at her side, jogging slightly, hand raised in greeting.
"You're hard to catch today," he said, half-grin in place.
"I wasn't trying to run," she replied quietly.
"Could've fooled me." He smiled, but his eyes searched her face more carefully than usual. "So. You talked to him?"
Lina hesitated. "Renzo?"
"Mm-hmm," he confirmed, tapping the side of his head like he already knew the answer. "You said yes to him first. And then you both disappeared. I'm guessing it wasn't a debate about the weather?"
Lina's fingers tightened around the notebook she hadn't written in yet. "We talked."
Ciel stopped walking. She did too.
"What did he say?"
She looked down. "He… apologized. For acting cold. Said he made assumptions."
Ciel raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And that's all."
He looked at her for a second longer. Then let out a quiet laugh.
"You're not a good liar, you know."
Lina opened her mouth, but Ciel held up a hand.
"You don't have to tell me everything. I'm not asking for secrets. Just…" He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Can I ask you something else?"
She met his gaze. "Okay."
"Are you looking at him?" he asked. "The way I've been looking at you?"
His voice wasn't bitter. Just careful. Like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.
Lina's breath caught. "Ciel…"
"I just want honesty," he said softly. "You don't owe me a yes. But I think I deserve to know if I'm imagining something that's not there."
She looked at him — really looked.
This boy who had been by her side. Who had offered drinks, comfort, words she didn't know she needed. The one who made her laugh when she wanted to disappear.
"I don't know," she whispered.
His expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes pulled back.
"That's fair," he said after a beat. "Not the answer I wanted, but… fair."
There was a long pause between them, filled with nothing but soft hallway noise and the unspoken ache of words left hanging.
"I won't push," he said. "I meant what I said before — I'm not here to make you choose. But…"
She waited.
"If I'm not the one you're looking at… can you not smile at me like I might be?"
That sentence landed harder than any confession could.
Lina swallowed, throat tight. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," he said gently. "You're kind. That's the worst part."
He gave a small shrug, forced a smile. "But if someday… you do look at me like that?"
He stepped back, just a little — enough to let the space settle.
"I'll still be here."
And then he walked away.
Not dramatic.
Not defeated.
Just a boy who knew he wasn't the answer — but still hoped to be the maybe.