It didn't feel like there was a "before" anymore.
That was the difference.
Before, no matter how much I adjusted, no matter how much I stayed, there was always a clear line in my mind—between who I was then and who I was now. Like everything here existed after something else, something separate.
Now… that line didn't feel as clear.
Now it felt like everything had started to blend together.
"You're quiet."
I glanced at Kairo. "You say that every time."
"And it's always true."
I let out a small breath. "Maybe I just don't feel like arguing anymore."
"You stopped a while ago."
"I noticed."
Silence settled between us, but it didn't feel empty. It felt complete, like nothing needed to be added.
"You're not thinking about leaving," he said.
"…No."
The answer came naturally.
Without hesitation.
"And you're not forcing that."
"I'm not."
Kairo watched me for a moment. "You stopped a while ago."
"I know," I said. "I just didn't realize how much it changed things."
"It changes everything."
I almost argued.
But I didn't.
Because this time—
It didn't feel like something I needed to question.
"You're not unsettled anymore," he said.
"I am," I replied. "Just not in the same way."
"How?"
"It's quieter," I admitted. "Before, everything felt like it was pulling me in different directions. Now it just… stays."
"That's because you stopped resisting."
"That again."
"Yes."
I shook my head slightly, but there was no frustration behind it.
Because I already knew—
He wasn't wrong.
"You're still thinking about him," Kairo said.
"I am," I admitted. "But not in a way that matters."
"That will fade."
"I know."
"But you're not holding onto it."
"I'm not trying to," I said. "I just don't want to pretend it didn't matter."
"It didn't change anything."
"I know," I replied. "But it still mattered."
Kairo didn't argue. He just accepted it.
"You're calmer," he said.
"I think I just stopped fighting myself," I admitted.
"You did."
I nodded slightly. "…Yeah."
That felt right.
More than anything else.
"You're not holding yourself back," he added.
"You've said that already."
"And it's still true."
I glanced at him. "You really don't let anything go."
"No."
Of course not.
"That doesn't mean everything has some deeper meaning," I said.
"It does."
I shook my head slightly, but I didn't argue.
Because arguing didn't feel necessary anymore.
"…Maybe," I admitted.
Silence followed, but it didn't stretch.
It stayed close.
"You don't step back anymore," Kairo said.
I paused.
Because he was right.
"I didn't notice," I admitted.
"I did."
Of course he did.
"That doesn't mean anything," I said.
"It does."
I looked at him, and this time—
I didn't look away.
"…Then what does it mean?"
Silence.
Then—
"You tell me."
That answer again.
"You always say that."
"Because you always avoid it."
"I'm not avoiding it."
"You are."
I exhaled slowly.
"…It means I don't feel like there's a 'before' anymore."
The words came out steady.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Silence followed.
"And?" he asked.
"And it means… this feels like it's just part of me now."
That truth settled between us.
Quiet.
Real.
Kairo didn't respond immediately, but I saw it—that subtle shift.
"You finally understand," he said.
"I think I do."
"You do."
I let out a small breath.
"…Yeah."
Another pause followed, but it didn't feel uncertain.
It felt… complete.
"You're not leaving," Kairo said.
"…No."
The word came easily now.
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
And this time—
It didn't feel like something I accepted.
It didn't feel like something I chose.
It felt like something that had always been there.
Something that no longer had a beginning.
Something that simply… existed.