The Space Between Us
Copyright© 2025 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 1
The Kiss That Changed Everything
The restaurant was too loud, the music pulsing through Kiko’s chest in time with her racing heart. Or maybe that was just the alcohol—three cocktails, each one making Rin’s laugh a little brighter, her smile a little more devastating. They’d come here to celebrate the end of their first semester, just the two of them like always, and now Kiko couldn’t remember why she’d thought getting tipsy was a good idea.
Because now she couldn’t stop staring at Rin’s mouth.
“You’re not even listening to me,” Rin said, leaning across the table with that crooked smile that had been Kiko’s undoing since they were twelve and thirteen years old. Since the day their parents had sat them down and explained that they were getting married, that they’d be sisters now, and Kiko had looked at this beautiful stranger and thought: No. No, that’s not what I want at all.
“I’m listening,” Kiko lied, wrapping both hands around her glass to keep from reaching across the table. Six years. Six years of pretending, of being the good little sister, of watching Rin date other people and acting like it didn’t tear her apart from the inside.
“Liar.” Rin’s eyes sparkled in the dim light. She’d worn her hair down tonight, dark waves framing her face, and Kiko wanted to touch it so badly her fingers ached. “I was telling you about Professor Martinez’s email—the one where he said my paper was ‘exceptionally insightful’—and you were completely zoned out.”
“That’s great,” Kiko managed. Everything felt too warm, too close. The restaurant had shrunk to just this table, just Rin’s face in the candlelight. “He’s right. You’re brilliant.”
Something flickered across Rin’s expression—surprise, maybe, or pleasure. She ducked her head, suddenly shy in a way that made Kiko’s chest tight. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
They’d shared a dorm room all semester, twin beds on opposite walls, and every night Kiko lay awake listening to Rin breathe in the darkness. Sometimes Rin talked in her sleep, soft murmurs that Kiko strained to hear. Once, she’d said Kiko’s name, and Kiko had pressed her face into her pillow and tried not to cry.
“We should probably get the check,” Rin said, glancing at her phone. “It’s almost eleven.”
“Wait.” The word came out too sharp, too desperate. Kiko took a breath, tried again. “Can we ... can we just sit here a little longer? I want to tell you something.”
Rin set her phone down, concern creasing her forehead. “Is everything okay?”
No. Nothing had been okay for six years. Kiko had been drowning in this feeling, this terrible, wonderful secret that grew bigger every day. She’d thought maybe when they got to college it would fade, that distance from their parents’ house would make her see clearly, realize it was just proximity, just familiarity.
Instead, sharing a twelve-by-fifteen room with Rin had been exquisite torture. Watching her get ready in the morning, stealing glances when Rin studied at her desk, the casual touches that meant nothing to Rin and everything to Kiko—it was killing her.
“I need to tell you something,” Kiko said. The words felt thick on her tongue, the alcohol making everything hazy around the edges. “And you can’t ... you can’t hate me for it.”
“I could never hate you.” Rin reached across the table, her fingers brushing Kiko’s wrist. It was meant to be comforting, sisterly. It felt like lightning. “You’re scaring me. What is it?”
The restaurant spun slightly. Or maybe that was just Kiko’s world tilting on its axis, the moment before everything changed forever. She thought about backing out, making up some lie about struggling with a class or missing home. She could keep the secret a little longer, maintain the careful distance she’d built between what she felt and what she showed.
But she was so tired. Tired of pretending, tired of watching Rin like she was something forbidden, tired of this ache in her chest that never went away.
“I’m in love with you,” Kiko said. The words came out steady, clear despite the alcohol, despite the terror. “I have been for six years. Since the day our parents told us they were getting married, since you smiled at me in the kitchen and asked if I wanted to watch movies in your room. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be, I know it’s wrong, but I can’t—I can’t keep pretending anymore.”
Rin’s eyes went wide. Her hand was still on Kiko’s wrist, her fingers suddenly very still.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.