The next time Reiji saw Miko, it was under fluorescent lights and quiet tension.
They were back in the café. Usual table. Usual drinks. But something felt off.
She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
He didn't ask about Kaito. Not directly. But it hung between them like a fog.
"Did you watch the other one I recommended?" she asked, trying to steer them back to comfort.
He shook his head. "I've been busy."
She nodded. "Same."
A pause.
"Miko," he said slowly, "if you ever wanted to stop seeing me—professionally—I'd understand."
She blinked. "Why would you say that?"
He studied her. "I saw you. With someone. Kaito Yukishiro."
Her lips parted slightly. Not in shock—but in recognition. So he knew.
"It's just coffee," she said, voice neutral. "We bumped into each other. Nothing serious."
Reiji gave a short laugh. "You're not great at lying."
"I'm not lying," she said softly. "But it doesn't matter, right? This is still just a job."
He looked away.
She continued, quieter, "You're not my only client."
That stung more than it should've. He knew it. But hearing it said aloud stripped something raw inside him.
"Right," he said, standing. "Guess I needed reminding."
She reached out instinctively, but stopped herself. "Reiji—"
But he was already walking away.
Outside, the city lights blurred in his vision. For the first time, he felt something sharp under the numbness.
Jealousy.
And something that scared him more—fear. Not of losing her.
Of never having had her to begin with.