Chapter 1 – The Distance Between Us

The door creaked open.

Haruki Aizawa turned his head slowly, the quiet beeping of hospital monitors keeping pace with the stillness of the room.

And there she was.

Tachibana Aizuna.

Standing in the doorway like a dream half-remembered. Her hand still gently resting against the frame, eyes wide but uncertain. Light from the corridor framed her silhouette, but her presence brought a stillness heavier than the silence.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Haruki sat up a little straighter despite the dull throb in his casted leg. His heart skipped—not from pain this time.

“…Tachibana,” he said, voice softer than he expected.

She stepped inside, careful, like the floor might break beneath her. In her hands, she carried a small gift bag, clear cellophane wrapped around a bundle of bright fruit with a neat red ribbon tied at the top. It felt oddly out of place in this sterile world of white walls and antiseptic air.

“I, um… I brought this for you,” she murmured, walking closer. “It’s not much…”

He gave her a faint smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to… but I’m glad you did.”

She set the bag gently on the side table. Her hands lingered on it for a moment before pulling away. Then they fidgeted—gripping her skirt, twisting just a little.

“I wanted to,” she said softly. “After everything you did for me…”

Her words trailed off, but the weight of them hung between them like dust in the golden sunlight pouring through the tall window.

Haruki looked at her—really looked at her.

She was the same girl who’d sat in class all year, barely speaking. The same girl who seemed to disappear into the background. But here, now—she looked different.

Not in appearance. In presence.

She felt real in a way she never had before.

“…I couldn’t just let you get hurt,” he said, voice low. “You looked so—lost.”

Her eyes shimmered faintly. Her shoulders stiffened as if holding something back. She stepped closer, standing just beside his bed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For everything. For making you go through this.”

Haruki gently shook his head. “You didn’t make me do anything. I chose to help you.”

Silence fell again. Not awkward—just quiet. Filled with things unspoken. Aizuna stood there, her gaze slowly drifting to his leg, then back to him.

He saw her lips part, hesitating, unsure.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said first, quietly.

She blinked. Her eyes softened. Then—

A small smile tugged at her lips. Just barely.

Then a giggle. Barely audible. Like the sound of wind brushing sakura petals.

It caught Haruki off guard, but not in a bad way. Something about it made the hospital room feel a little less cold.

Aizuna looked down again, her voice smaller.

“…I should get going. I don’t want to stay too long.”

She turned slightly toward the door, then stopped.

“…But, um…”

She hesitated, cheeks tinged with the faintest blush.

“Can I visit you again?”

Haruki met her eyes.

The pain in his leg was still there. The bruises, the fatigue, the sterile room.

But none of that seemed to matter.

He smiled.

“I’d like that,” he said. “A lot.”

Outside the window, the sky had begun to darken, the last light of day softening the edges of the world. But inside that room, it felt like something was just beginning.

Something quiet.

Something new.

The door clicked shut behind her with the softest whisper.

Aizuna stood still for a moment in the hallway, her hand still resting on the door handle as if the warmth of the moment might somehow linger in her palm.

The white corridor stretched ahead, bright under the fluorescent ceiling lights, but her eyes were unfocused. Everything felt muffled — the gentle chatter of nurses, the rhythmic squeak of rubber soles, the faint hum of a vending machine at the far end.

She wasn’t really here.

Her heart was still in that room. Still hearing Haruki’s voice.
Still remembering the way he smiled at her.

She pressed her fingers lightly to her chest, right where the strange warmth bloomed beneath her cardigan.

Her footsteps echoed softly as she started walking — not fast, not slow. Just… steady. Like if she moved too quickly, the moment might break apart and vanish behind her.

By the time she stepped through the hospital’s front doors, the sky had shifted into lavender hues, the last remnants of daylight stretching over the rooftops. The breeze that greeted her was gentle but cool, brushing through her hair and cardigan like a quiet sigh.

The streets were alive in that calm evening kind of way — headlights gliding past like fireflies, traffic lights blinking their lullaby rhythm, the scent of roasted sweet potatoes drifting faintly from a stand down the street.

Aizuna walked without thinking. Past the station, past the corner bookstore, past the bakery that had closed fifteen minutes ago. Her legs moved out of habit. But her thoughts—

They were drifting.

“I chose to help you.”

His words clung to her like dew on glass.

He’d said it so simply. So sincerely. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But it wasn’t. Not to her.

People didn’t choose to see her. Let alone reach out. Let alone smile like that.

"You looked so—lost."

Was it that obvious?

Aizuna tightened her grip on the strap of her school bag. Her steps slowed as she approached the intersection — that intersection.

The one where it all happened.

The street was dry now. Clean. Normal. The crosswalk lines painted bold and bright. A car rolled by casually, its tires whispering over the asphalt.

No rain. No screeching brakes. No blinding lights.

Just her.

She stood there at the edge of the sidewalk, staring at the crossing. Not moving. Not blinking.

The wind ruffled her hair gently as the light turned green.

And then, slowly…

She stepped forward.

The house was quiet when she arrived.

Her mother peeked out from the kitchen just as Aizuna slipped off her shoes in the entryway.

“You’re late,” she said softly, her tone more worried than scolding. “We were starting to get—”

“I went to visit Aizawa-kun,” Aizuna said, almost in a whisper.

Her mother tilted her head slightly. “Ah.... Aizawa-kun....”

“…Mhm Aizawa-kun... .”

That was all she said.

But something in her mother’s expression shifted — the edge of concern softening into quiet relief. “All right,” she nodded. “There’s curry on the stove if you’re hungry. But how was Aizawa-kun?

Aizuna gave a faint nod before retreating upstairs, her footsteps soundless against the polished floor.

Her mother didn’t say anything more — just gave a small, quiet nod, as if to say: I understand.

Aizuna moved toward the stairs, her footsteps light against the polished floor.

As she passed the living room, she caught sight of her older sister curled up on the couch, blanket draped over her legs, eyes locked on her phone. The glow of the screen lit her face in soft blue.

Their gazes met for a second — her sister opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped. Aizuna didn’t wait. She walked on.

The scent of curry still lingered faintly in her hair as she stepped out of the shower, warm steam curling into the hallway air. Her towel brushed against her damp cheeks as she patted her face dry, and her damp bangs clung softly to her forehead.

She dressed slowly, pulling on her pale blue pajamas — a matching set with small sakura prints near the hem. The fabric was soft against her skin, but her mind felt far away.

When she finally flopped onto her bed, the ceiling light glowed dimly above her — pale and distant, like a full moon behind fogged glass.

Aizuna lay there in silence.

Her eyes stared upward, unfocused, while the events of the day circled quietly in her mind.
The sound of his voice.
That small, tired smile.
The way her chest tightened and softened all at once.

A strange warmth bloomed in her chest — not like fear, not like confusion…
Something quieter.
Something unnamed.

Her fingers curled gently in the folds of her blanket as her lips pressed into a soft line.

“…Aizawa-kun…”

She whispered his name once, into the stillness. Just to see how it felt in the quiet.

Then she turned on her side.

And fell asleep with a small, invisible smile.

The alarm buzzed faintly against the edge of her pillow. Aizuna stirred slowly, blinking in the early morning light that seeped through her curtains.

She went about her morning quietly — brushing her teeth, combing her hair, slipping into her uniform. Her ribbon was tied just a little crooked, but she didn’t fix it.

School passed like a blur.

Classmates whispered. A few looked her way. But she kept her head low, her thoughts elsewhere.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, she didn’t go straight home.

Instead, she boarded the train again — same station, same route. Her heart, for once, didn’t ache with nerves.

She walked through the hospital corridors, clutching a small paper bag with canned peach juice and rice crackers.

When she opened the door to Haruki’s room — she paused.

He was sitting up in bed, completely focused on the tablet propped against the tray table in front of him.

Bright, rapid voices echoed from the speakers — action anime, clearly.

Aizuna blinked. “...Is that Black Voltage: Requiem?”

Haruki jumped a little. Then turned — and grinned. “You know it?”

She stepped inside, setting the bag down with a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Of course I do… I used to watch it with my sister.”

He scooted over slightly, motioning to the empty space beside him. “Episode 19. The one with the rooftop confession and the giant robot fight right after.”

Aizuna sat down carefully. “That episode’s... intense.”

They shared a bag of crackers, taking turns watching and talking. Haruki’s commentary was light and easy, while Aizuna’s words were quiet — but sincere. Occasionally, she’d correct him on trivia. He’d pretend to act offended.

It wasn’t much. But it felt warm.

Comfortable.

Halfway through the next episode, Haruki laughed at a ridiculous line the villain shouted.

Aizuna couldn’t help it.

She giggled.

Softly. Naturally. Her hand covered her mouth instinctively, but the sound slipped through anyway — like wind rustling through blooming spring trees.

Haruki turned toward her, eyes wide for a moment.

That sound — that single giggle — seemed to light up something inside the sterile hospital room. Something rare.

He didn’t say anything.

But he smiled.

And this time… so did she.

It was small — just a slight curve at the edge of her lips — but it was real. Quiet. Honest.

Haruki blinked, staring at her with a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Aizuna noticed.

“W-What…?” she muttered, her usual deadpan expression creeping back in as if embarrassed by her own softness.

Haruki chuckled — low and warm.

“You should smile more, Tachibana-san.”

She stared at him, confused. “…Eh?”

“It suits you,” he said, gently unwrapping the tonkatsu bento box on the tray beside him. “You look pretty. It’d be a waste if you didn’t smile more.”

Aizuna froze.

The words sank into her like ripples on still water. She didn’t know how to respond. Her gaze remained fixed on him — her expression unreadable — and yet, color began to bloom across her cheeks.

The word “pretty” repeated itself in her head, again and again, until it drowned out everything else.

Then—abruptly—

“I-I’ll go buy some drinks,” she stammered, pushing herself up from the chair so fast it almost startled him.

She slid the door open in one swift motion, then turned and stepped out, closing it with a soft click behind her.

The quiet hallway greeted her.

And then, finally—

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her hands flew up, gently cupping her cheeks that were now burning hot.

“…What the heck…?” she whispered to herself.

The soft echo of Haruki’s voice lingered in her mind.

“You look pretty.”

Aizuna buried her face in her hands.

“…I-It’s just the lighting,” she mumbled to herself, ears bright red. “The fluorescent lights… are weird today…”

But even as she stood there, flustered and trying to cool her cheeks, her lips refused to stop curving into that same small, quiet smile.

Why did he have to say that? Her mind raced, blinking rapidly like trying to erase the moment. I didn’t mean to smile. I’m not… I’m not like that.

She pressed her fingertips lightly to her cheeks, as if she could physically push away the warmth that bloomed there. The hallway stretched out ahead, sterile and quiet, but inside her chest, her heartbeat was suddenly louder, a soft drum she wasn’t sure how to control.

He said I look pretty? The words echoed, looping softly. Pretty? Him?

Aizuna’s steps moved forward, slow and measured, but inside, her thoughts bounced between disbelief and a shy, trembling happiness.

She passed the hospital cafeteria, its bright lights and murmuring voices like another world—too loud for her suddenly racing heart. She was about to keep walking when a sudden, very important realization stopped her in place.

Wait. The convenience store—Lawson? She bit her lower lip, eyes flicking toward the exit sign. There’s one just across the street. That’s… that’s perfect.

A tiny, almost mischievous smile tugged at her lips. If I say I’m going to buy drinks, maybe I can buy some extra time to calm down. Or… just to think. Or maybe to giggle quietly to myself in secret.

She shook her head softly, the cool air brushing her hair as she stepped outside, a small breeze fluttering around her like a secret whisper.

Why am I even thinking about giggling? she chided herself, though her lips kept that gentle curve. This is ridiculous.

And yet, as she crossed the street toward the little brightly lit convenience store, her steps felt lighter, her heart a little braver.

Because maybe, just maybe... this was the start of something quietly, wonderfully new.

The soft chime of the automatic door sang behind her as she stepped into the warm glow of the convenience store. Aizuna moved with that same calm grace she always had — quiet, collected — but her fingers twitched slightly as they hovered over the drink fridge.

She crouched down, eyes scanning the rows.

She reached out and took her favorite: a bottle of peach-flavored milk tea. Subtle, just sweet enough — something familiar in a day full of new feelings.

Then she paused. Her eyes flicked over to the neighboring rows.

“…For Aizawa-kun…” she murmured under her breath, almost inaudibly. Her brows furrowed slightly in thought.

Cola? Too fizzy. Coffee? Too bitter. Sports drink? He’s not in a tournament.

Eventually, she picked up a chilled bottle of iced lemon tea. It felt like a safe choice. Not too sweet, not too plain. Something neutral… something nice.

She stood in front of the register for a moment, her heart still catching up with everything that had happened — his smile, his words, that compliment. She could still feel the heat lingering on her cheeks. She hadn't even looked at him properly when he said it.

As the cashier rang up her drinks, Aizuna stood in her usual composed posture, though her eyes quietly avoided the woman’s gaze.

“Is it a gift?” the cashier asked lightly, scanning the lemon tea.

Aizuna blinked. “Eh—n-no. It’s just…” She glanced away. “It’s for a friend.”

The woman smiled, bagging the drinks without pushing further.

Once outside, Aizuna held the small plastic bag in both hands, letting the wind nip gently at her bangs. The sun was beginning to dip behind the hospital building, casting long shadows across the pavement. It was quiet again, like the city was holding its breath with her.

She took a breath — slow, steady — and started walking back toward the hospital entrance.

Why am I nervous? I already saw him earlier… she thought as her shoes clicked softly against the tile floor.

But she knew the answer.

It wasn’t the seeing him.

It was the remembering. The replaying. The feeling of her name in his voice, the glint in his eyes, the way he said—

“You should smile more.”

She covered her face again, silently pleading with her expression to behave as she approached the hallway to his room.

He’s just being nice, she told herself. He says nice things to everyone… probably.

Still… as she reached out to slide the hospital room door open, her reflection caught briefly in the small window.

She was still smiling.

Just a little.

And this time… she didn’t try to hide it.

Time passed.

Not that either of them really noticed.

A few quiet words were exchanged — nothing deep, just fragments. Haruki mentioned something funny his sister said that morning. Aizuna nodded, eyes trailing the movements of the wind outside. Somewhere between their breaths, the silence turned into comfort.

But then…

Aizuna’s eyes slowly drifted to the wall.

Tick… tick…

The old clock above the sliding door ticked with a rhythm that felt almost too loud in this stillness.

5:42 PM.

Her gaze widened slightly. She sat up straight.

“Ah…”

She rose from her seat with practiced grace, lightly smoothing the back of her skirt with both hands as she stepped away from the chair. Her shoulder bag swayed softly at her side as she lifted it.

“I… I should go home now,” she said quietly, turning toward him.

Haruki looked up from the bed, his smile subdued, as if he already knew.

Aizuna stood there for a second longer, as if there was something more she wanted to say… but in the end, she just gave him a soft, small wave — the kind you’d give a friend on a rainy afternoon.

“…Bye-bye, Aizawa-kun,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Haruki smiled.

“See you.”

The sliding door clicked gently as she pulled it closed behind her.

Click.

And then… she was gone.

The hospital corridor was painted in soft yellows by the setting sun. Aizuna walked quietly, step by step, her shoes tapping gently against the polished floor. Outside, the streets of Tokyo were beginning to glow with the gentle hum of early evening.

She didn’t take the train.

She walked.

The wind was calm. The sakura trees lining the streets rustled gently, their petals fluttering in the breeze — just like they had that morning.

But her heart… felt different now.

She placed a hand against her chest as she walked.

There, beneath her fingers, was a gentle warmth. A faint echo. Like something soft was blooming in the quiet corners of her heart — unnamed, unfamiliar.

That hand…

That look in his eyes…

She couldn’t describe it.

But as she walked beneath the golden light of a fading sky, a small smile curved at the corner of her lips.

Even after everything that had happened…

For the first time in a long while, the silence around her didn’t feel so lonely.

The next morning arrived quietly.

Warm sunlight spilled through the classroom windows, dust particles dancing lazily in the beams. The usual buzz of morning chatter filled the air — desks being shuffled, lunch boxes being stashed, sleepy jokes passed between friends.

Aizuna sat in her seat near the window, her hands folded gently on her desk. Miku, Ayame, and Nico surrounded her as always, chatting away about everything and nothing.

“So like—what if he comes back today? Wouldn't that be super romantic?” Miku whispered with a teasing grin.

Ayame rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest, he’s still recovering, right?”

“I dunno,” Nico said, glancing at Aizuna. “What do you think?”

Aizuna blinked. Her lips parted slightly—
“I…”

SLIDE.

The classroom door opened.

The sound was so crisp in the air that the entire room fell still.

Heads turned.

Voices stopped.

Eyes widened.

There, standing in the doorway with a calm, almost sleepy smile on his face—

—was Aizawa Haruki.

His arm still had a soft brace wrapped from elbow to wrist, and a crutch rested under one arm, but he stood tall, as if nothing could ever bend him completely. The morning light framed him perfectly, casting a gentle halo over his messy light-brown hair.

“H-Haruki!?”

“He’s back—?!”

“Wait, no way, today?!”

The room erupted into a flurry of surprise and excitement. Several classmates jumped to their feet, rushing over with questions and cheers.

“Dude, are you okay!?”

“When did they let you out!?”

“What about your leg?!”

But Haruki—his eyes weren’t scanning the room.

They were already locked on one person.

Across the classroom, near the windows, Aizuna’s gaze met his. She sat frozen in her seat, her fingers curling slightly against the hem of her skirt.

Haruki gently nodded to his classmates’ questions, offered a few short answers…

…and then walked past them all.

The class’s attention drifted, puzzled, as he made his way across the room.

Step by step.

Crutch. Foot. Crutch. Foot.

Until he was right in front of her.

And then, like the world had quieted just for a moment, he spoke—

“Are you doing okay now, Tachibana-san?”

Aizuna felt it.
That small thud in her chest.
Like a petal brushing gently against the surface of still water.

She blinked once.

Then nodded, slowly.

“…Y-Yeah.”

Haruki smiled softly.

“Good.”

END OF CHAPTER 1. 🌸✨