Unraveled Ties-Chapter 53: A Song, A Swing, and Stories

The city had slipped into evening by the time Reiji and Sena met near the karaoke lounge.

Sena arrived first, waiting under a streetlight, phone in hand but not really using it. She wore a beige jacket over a dark fitted top and black jeans. Her hair flowed freely, catching the soft orange of the lamps above. Reiji paused for a second when he saw her — not just because she looked beautiful, but because something about her felt different tonight. Softer.

As he approached, she glanced up. “You’re late,” she said, brushing her bangs from her eyes.

“You’re early,” he countered with a slight smile. “You look good.”

Sena blinked at that. She hadn’t expected the compliment to come so easily from him. A small blush crept onto her cheeks, but she masked it with a shrug. “You’re learning.”

They entered the karaoke lounge — warm lighting, cozy booths, and the faint muffled echoes of off-key singing drifting from other rooms. Inside their own booth, Sena practically dived into the tablet menu, flipping through song lists.

“Pick something,” she said, grinning.

“I don’t sing,” Reiji muttered, sitting back.

“That’s perfect. You’ll lower the bar.”

Despite his protests, Reiji sang. Badly. Sena clapped anyway. Then she sang, swaying to the beat and glancing at him between verses. The tension faded with every chorus, and before long, they were trading duets and joking about each other’s pitch.

After about an hour and some snacks, they both slumped back on the couch, tired from laughing more than singing.

“Okay, maybe we’re not karaoke people,” Sena finally admitted.

Reiji chuckled. “Took you that long to realize?”

Sena stood and stretched. “There’s a park nearby. It’s quiet. Let’s walk a bit.”

---

The air outside was cool, the sky clear. They walked in silence at first, side by side, the crunch of gravel beneath their feet the only sound.

The park wasn’t crowded. A few benches, dim streetlights, and further in, an old swing set. Sena made a beeline for it.

“You’re seriously gonna get on that?” Reiji asked.

“Why not?” she replied, sitting down and giving herself a small push. “Come on. Push me.”

He hesitated, then stepped behind her and gently pushed the swing.

They stayed like that for a while — the rhythmic creak of the chains lulling them into a calm.

“So,” Reiji said eventually, “what were you like in middle school?”

Sena laughed softly. “Bossy. Quiet. A bit of a loner.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I wasn’t exactly social.”

He nodded. “I guess I was pretty invisible back then too.”

Sena turned to glance back at him. “What’s your favorite subject now?”

Reiji thought for a moment. “Math, maybe. Or literature, depending on the teacher.”

“That’s weirdly balanced,” she teased.

He smiled. “What about you?”

“English. I like words. I guess that’s why I like writing.”

They chatted casually — about boring school assemblies, teachers with odd quirks, a time Reiji forgot his entire presentation at the front of the class and blanked out. Sena laughed at that, actually laughed — head tilted back, eyes sparkling.

Reiji grinned. “You weren’t always this easy to talk to.”

“You weren’t always trying,” she countered.

The swing slowed again, and after a quiet moment, Reiji spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

Sena looked at him, wary but open.

“How did you and Aoi end up together?” he asked, careful, gentle. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

Sena was quiet for a while. The wind tugged gently at her hair.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it,” she said finally. “Just... don’t get weird on me.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

She leaned back, looking at the stars peeking through the branches.

“We met in middle school. I wasn’t close to many people. My parents were never around — always busy, always fighting. Missed most of my school life. Sometimes, I think they forgot about it altogether.”

She paused. Reiji didn’t speak — just listened.

“Aoi was the complete opposite. Happy. Involved. Always had people around her. I used to envy her... but she never treated me like I was invisible.”

Sena’s voice softened. “She’d talk to me. Sit beside me during events. Stick around when I thought no one would. I didn’t even know I needed someone until she just... stayed.”

Reiji glanced down. Something in his chest shifted.

“She was the first person I let in. And one day, I realized I didn’t want her to leave.”

“You confessed?” Reiji asked quietly.

Sena nodded. “Before high school. I told her that if we got in together, I wouldn’t hold back.”

She smiled faintly. “She cried.

Then she smiled. And stayed.”

Reiji looked at her, guilt creeping up from his chest to his throat.