Chapter Four: The Places They Watch From
Monday came too quickly.
By first period, the familiar hum of lockers and fluorescent lights had returned, trying to drown out whatever softness Kira had gathered over the weekend. The hallways were a flood of bodies again—laughing, shouting, shoving. She moved through them like always, silent and steady, clutching her sketchbook close to her chest like a secret.
But something was different.
She could still feel the warmth of Mina's fingers brushing her ear. Still feel the weight of her words: "I like being near you."
Kira had replayed them like a favorite song, over and over, until the edges softened and blurred.
She hadn't expected to see her so soon.
But there Mina was—leaning against Kira's locker, arms crossed, one foot tapping lightly to some silent rhythm in her head. Her braid from yesterday had unraveled into waves, and she wore a black bomber jacket over a maroon T-shirt, the kind of look that made her seem untouchable and human at once.
Kira slowed, her breath catching.
Mina looked up and smiled.
"Hey," she said, like the word was just for her.
Kira nodded. "Hey."
Mina reached into her bag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Here. Notes from lit class. You zoned out the last fifteen minutes."
Kira blinked. "You noticed?"
Mina grinned. "I notice a lot more than people think."
Their fingers touched briefly as Kira took the paper. It felt like someone had lit a match inside her palm.
And then someone cleared their throat behind them.
Kira turned to find three girls standing a few feet away—bright-eyed, glossy-lipped, dressed like they walked through life with filters on. One of them leaned in, whispering something to the other, who laughed behind a perfectly manicured hand.
Mina didn't flinch.
She gave them a look—casual, unimpressed—then turned back to Kira.
"Wanna walk me to class?" she asked.
Kira's heart skipped.
"Okay."
They walked side by side.
No one said much, but that didn't matter. The silence between them had changed. It was no longer filled with uncertainty, but with awareness. With something blooming just under the surface.
People stared.
Kira felt it immediately. The subtle shift in the air. The way conversations slowed as they passed. The way people looked at Mina, then at her, then back again, like trying to solve a puzzle they didn't understand.
She hated it.
But Mina didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she did and didn't care.
Either way, it made Kira's stomach twist.
By the time they reached Mina's class, Kira's fingers were clenched so tightly around her sketchbook that her knuckles had gone white.
Mina turned to her.
"Don't disappear today," she said softly. "I want to see you after school."
Kira hesitated. "Why?"
"Because it's easier to breathe when you're around."
And with that, she slipped into the classroom, leaving Kira stunned in the hallway, heart pounding so loudly she thought someone might hear it.
She hid in the art room during lunch.
It was the only place she felt safe from the noise—the only place no one looked at her twice. The teacher, Mr. Kohn, barely acknowledged her presence anymore, used to her slipping in with her sketchbook and sitting in the far corner, away from everyone else.
Today, she didn't draw.
She stared at a blank page, hearing the whispers echoing in her head.
Mina Park was with that girl.
Did you see them?
Is she, like… into her?
She hated how quickly people wanted to turn something gentle into something scandalous.
She hated how fragile it all felt now.
But most of all, she hated how much she wanted to be seen—by Mina, just Mina—and how the world made even that feel dangerous.
After school, she didn't go to the library. She didn't wait outside.
She went to the rooftop.
No one came up there. The door technically stayed locked, but Kira had found a way months ago—there was a loose panel in the stairwell she could pry open, climb through a narrow gap, and end up standing beneath the wide, empty sky.
She sat on the edge of the rooftop with her knees pulled to her chest, wind tangling her hair.
The city buzzed below. Car horns. Distant shouts. A dog barking somewhere.
She didn't cry.
Not quite.
But something burned in her chest, wild and quiet, like a scream with nowhere to go.
The door creaked.
Kira froze.
Footsteps. Then a head popped through the panel. Messy braid. Black jacket.
Mina.
"You didn't come," she said, crawling through.
Kira looked away. "I didn't want to ruin things."
Mina sat beside her, not touching, just near.
"You didn't."
Kira swallowed. "They were staring."
"I know."
"Whispering."
"I know."
Kira turned to her, voice trembling. "Aren't you scared?"
Mina was quiet for a moment. Then, "Terrified."
Kira blinked.
Mina continued, "I've spent my whole life pretending not to feel things too deeply. Smiling so no one could see how badly I wanted to scream. Being 'cool' so they'd leave me alone." She looked over. "But then you came along. And you didn't ask for anything. You just saw me."
Kira's throat tightened.
Mina reached out, her fingers brushing Kira's hand gently.
"They'll always talk, Kira. That's what people do. But I'd rather be talked about than keep pretending I don't want this."
Kira stared at their hands. At the space where skin met skin.
"This?" she whispered.
Mina smiled. "Yeah. This. You and me. Whatever it turns into."
Kira leaned in slowly. She didn't know how to ask. She didn't know if she had to.
Their foreheads touched first.
Then, shyly, gently, like the first break of light after a long night—
Their lips did.
Soft. Barely a kiss. More like a question asked in the quiet.
But it was enough.