Chapter 10: Small Moments

The next day came faster than Yasu expected.

Classes went by in a blur. Words floated over his head—something about chemical equations, something about ancient history—but he barely caught any of it.

His mind kept drifting back to the rooftop.

To Hoshiko-sensei sitting beside him, teasing him like they were old friends instead of teacher and student.

It unsettled him… but not in a bad way.

When the lunch bell rang, he sat at his desk, undecided. Part of him wanted to stay, to return to the rooftop like yesterday. But the other part hesitated—what if she wasn’t there this time? What if he looked foolish waiting alone?

He debated for a few seconds.

Then, without thinking too much, he stood up, stuffing a new onigiri into his pocket.

This time he chose salmon.

Maybe she would approve.

He slipped through the hallway, avoiding the groups of noisy students gathered around their bentos and drinks. His steps were automatic now, leading him back to the stairwell.

The rooftop door opened with the same soft creak.

The air outside felt a little warmer today. The clouds had scattered, letting a pale sunlight filter through.

He stepped out—and saw her immediately.

Hoshiko-sensei was already there, sitting cross-legged near the fence, her hair a little messy from the breeze. She had a canned coffee beside her and a convenience store sandwich on her lap.

She hadn't noticed him yet.

For a second, he thought about backing away, pretending he hadn’t come. But before he could move, she turned and caught him standing there.

A slow grin spread across her face.

“Well, well. My rooftop stalker returns.”

He flushed slightly but walked forward without a word.

Hoshiko patted the ground beside her. “Come on, Yasu-kun. I don’t bite. Much.”

He sat down carefully, keeping a respectable distance.

She took a sip of her coffee, then looked at his pocket. “You brought food again?”

“…Yeah.”

“Did you remember the second one for me?” she teased.

He shook his head. “No.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m wounded. Truly.”

He ignored her dramatics and pulled out his onigiri, peeling it open.

Hoshiko leaned closer slightly, eyeing it like a cat spotting a piece of fish.

“Salmon, huh? Upgraded from basic tuna mayo.”

He offered no comment, just took a bite.

She chuckled, unwrapping her sandwich. “I guess we’re both creatures of habit.”

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the breeze tugging gently at their sleeves.

“Hey, Yasu-kun,” she said suddenly.

He glanced at her.

“Do you always do everything alone?”

He hesitated. “Not always.”

“But mostly?”

“…Yeah.”

She tapped her sandwich against her chin thoughtfully. “You know, you remind me a little of myself back then.”

He frowned. "You?"

“Mm. Shocking, right? I wasn’t always this charming and sociable,” she said, puffing her chest out dramatically.

He snorted under his breath.

Hoshiko smiled slyly. “You should be careful, though. Spend too much time alone and you start talking to your food.”

Yasu blinked. “You… did that?”

"Only once," she said, lifting a finger. "And I was very hungry. The onigiri and I had a heartfelt conversation."

He couldn’t help it—he laughed, a real, quiet laugh.

It felt strange in his chest, like a door opening somewhere deep inside.

Hoshiko beamed at him.

"There it is," she said softly.

“What?”

“A real smile. Not the usual dead-eyed look you give everyone.”

He looked away, embarrassed.

She finished her sandwich, brushing crumbs from her lap.

“Honestly, Yasu-kun, you’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, you’d get away with nothing.”

He stiffened slightly at the word cute.

She laughed at his reaction, obviously teasing. "Relax, relax. It’s just a compliment. No need to die on the spot."

He muttered something under his breath and focused very hard on finishing his onigiri.

They sat quietly again, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

The moment felt oddly peaceful.

Hoshiko stretched out on the concrete, lying down with her arms folded behind her head.

“You ever think about the future, Yasu-kun?” she asked, staring up at the sky.

“Sometimes.”

“And?”

“I don’t know.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Smart answer. People who pretend to have it all figured out at seventeen are liars.”

He glanced at her.

She looked so relaxed, so different from the polished image she showed in the classroom. It was a little disorienting... and strangely comforting.

"You?" he asked quietly. "Did you have it figured out?"

She snorted. "Me? I still don’t. I just pretend better now."

He smiled faintly.

After a moment, she turned her head to look at him, her expression softer.

"You'll be fine, Yasu-kun," she said, almost serious now. "You just need to find something—or someone—that makes you want to keep waking up every morning."

The words hit something deep inside him.

Before he could think of a reply, she suddenly sat up.

“Well! That got heavier than I intended,” she said brightly, brushing dust off her skirt. “We should head back before people start rumors about me seducing lonely boys on rooftops.”

He nearly choked on the last bite of his food.

She winked at him, then stood up, stretching.

Without another word, she headed for the door, waving lazily over her shoulder.

Yasu sat there for a few seconds longer, feeling the echo of her words—and her smile—linger in the warm afternoon air.

Then he stood up and followed, a little slower.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, having someone like her around after all.