My brother's fiancée loves me after I time travel to the past

"I do like you," Jiko admits quietly, almost against his better judgment. "But I'm not ready for something like this. I'm still figuring things out—myself, everything around me. I can't give you what you want right now."

Julie's eyes search his face, her brow furrowed in confusion and sadness. "But why not?" she asks softly, almost pleading. "Why can't you just… give it a chance?"

Jiko swallows hard, his mind racing. He knows that if he lets this go any further, it could spiral into something much more complicated than he's ready for. His thoughts are consumed with what's supposed to happen—Julie should end up with Tito. They'll grow into their roles as family, sharing a future tied together by more than friendship. They'll find happiness—together.

And that future feels too fragile to compromise.

"It's not you, Julie," Jiko says, choosing his words carefully. "It's just—there's something I need to figure out first. I'm not in the right place right now."

Julie's face falls, her shoulders slumping as she stares down at the ground. Her voice shakes as she speaks again, her disappointment evident. "So, you're just going to push me away? Just like that?"

Jiko feels a pang in his chest, seeing her like this—the hurt and confusion in her eyes. He wants to say something more, to comfort her, but his mind keeps circling back to what he knows is inevitable. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I'm not pushing you away," he insists softly, though it sounds hollow even to his own ears. "I just need time. I need to figure things out. For myself."

Julie looks up at him again, her eyes searching his face, as if she's trying to find a different answer—something, anything, that will make sense of what's happening between them. But when she doesn't find it, she sighs deeply and shakes her head.

"Time… for what?" she murmurs, almost to herself.

Jiko doesn't have an answer. He knows he can't explain the future to her—not without sounding ridiculous, not without making her question things that haven't even happened yet. So, instead, he stands there, awkward and unsure, feeling the weight of what's unfolding.

"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice thick with regret. "I just can't do this right now."

Julie's eyes glisten with unshed tears, though she blinks them back, refusing to let them fall. She looks at him one last time—her expression a mix of sadness and quiet frustration. "I hope you realize what you're giving up," she says quietly before turning away.

Jiko watches her go, his chest aching. He knows what she means, and it stings more than he expected. But he can't bring himself to follow after her, not when he knows this is for the best—at least, for the greater good.

And as she walks away, leaving him standing there alone, he feels something slip away—something precious, something that could have been—just out of his reach.

The days following Julie's confession felt like walking a tightrope—every glance, every word stretched with meaning, but never fully spoken aloud. At school, Julie tried to act as though nothing had changed, though Jiko could see it in the way she looked at him—lingering just a little longer, her eyes searching his whenever they crossed paths. But he kept his distance, unsure of what more he could give her, knowing how fragile their friendship already was.

At first, she approached him casually, slipping into their usual routines—talking during lunch, walking alongside him between classes. But Jiko began to notice a shift—small moments where Julie's curiosity wasn't just friendly anymore, but something deeper, more intentional. Her questions weren't just about homework or school events; they were about him—his personal belongings, his thoughts, the little things he enjoyed. And Jiko couldn't ignore the way her gaze followed him, the subtle touches she let linger just a bit too long.

One afternoon, as they walked to the school gates, Jiko felt the familiar weight of someone falling into step beside him—his best friend, Rizvan.

"Yo, Jiko!" Rizvan greeted, nudging him playfully. "What's up with you lately? You've been acting weird."

Jiko glanced at Rizvan, shaking his head slightly, trying to keep his expression neutral. "What do you mean?"

Rizvan raised an eyebrow. "You've got this whole different vibe going on. Ever since—" he paused, tilting his head in thought, "—ever since that new girl started hanging around."

Jiko tensed slightly. "What new girl?" he asked, trying to sound casual, though his mind immediately went to Julie.

Rizvan snorted. "You know, the one who's been all over you. Julie, or whatever her name is. I've seen the way she's been acting around you. She's practically following you everywhere."

Jiko clenched his jaw slightly, trying to remain composed. "It's nothing. She just needs help with some stuff."

Rizvan scoffs. "Help? Yeah, right. I'm telling you, man, she's into you."

Jiko sighed, trying to brush it off, but the truth weighed on him—how Julie's attention had shifted from friendly to something more. He knew Rizvan didn't have the full story, but it wasn't easy to ignore the subtle tension between them.

Rizvan leaned closer, lowering his voice. "So, what's going on? Is something actually happening between you two?"

Jiko felt his palms begin to sweat slightly. He shifted uncomfortably. "It's complicated."

Rizvan's smirk widened. "Complicated? Come on, bro. That girl clearly likes you. And you're just letting it slide?"

"I'm not letting anything slide," Jiko muttered. "It's just… it's not as simple as it looks."

Rizvan shrugged, unconvinced. "Sure, whatever you say. But you better watch yourself. Girls like Julie don't just go after anyone. They're out to get what they want."

Jiko clenched his fists slightly, his mind racing. He didn't know what to make of Rizvan's words. Julie, sweet and genuine in her own way, didn't seem like the kind of person to play games. 

That night, as Jiko lay awake in bed, his mind spun with Rizvan's words. He replayed their conversation over and over, trying to understand it—what Rizvan meant, what Julie's actions really meant. He knew Rizvan wasn't entirely wrong—Julie's behavior had shifted, and it wasn't purely coincidental. The subtle touches, the lingering glances—he felt the weight of it all, even if part of him wanted to believe she was just being friendly.