"If I go to Stanford," Shirogane began, his hand twitching near hers on the cold metal rail, "the distance won't just be measured in miles."
Kaguya felt her face flush a crimson that would have put a beet to shame. The "Love Detective" Chika Fujiwara was nowhere to be found, and Ishigami was likely buried in a dark corner of the student council room, yet the pressure was higher than any formal debate. "If I go to Stanford," Shirogane began, his
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" Kaguya whispered. It was a cliché, a literary trap, but in this moment, it felt like the only truth she could manage. It was a cliché, a literary trap, but
"It is," he said, his voice steady yet thick with unsaid things. "But I'm not looking at the moon, Shinomiya." "Then I suppose I’ll just have to make
Kaguya finally looked at him, her icy exterior completely melted. "Then I suppose I’ll just have to make sure the distance between our hearts is zero before you leave."
The sterile moonlight of the Shuchiin Academy rooftop felt like a spotlight on a stage where neither actor knew their lines. After the chaos of the Dual Confessions Culture Festival, the air between Kaguya Shinomiya and Miyuki Shirogane had shifted from tactical warfare to a terrifying, quiet vulnerability.