Chapter 8 – Things That Move

Rain started just after lunch.

It wasn’t sudden, The dark clouds had been hanging all morning, When the first drops tapped the windows, no one seemed surprised.

By the time final period ended, the sky had turned a deep gray. Students rushed for umbrellas or waited under the awning near the front gate. The smell of wet concrete filled the halls.

Haruki didn’t head straight home.

He went up the stairs to the third floor, past the art room and the music wing, until he reached the literature club.

The door was open.

Inside, the usual warmth of the old room welcomed him wood shelves, curtains, the faint smell of old paper. Aoi sat near the front with a book in her lap. Akari was lounging near the window, humming something while flipping through a mystery novel.

Reina was at the back corner, seated near the window where the glass was misted over.

She didn’t look up when he entered, But her hand paused for half a second on the page she was sketching.

Haruki didn’t say anything. He just walked over and sat across from her.

He glanced at her sketchbook.

“Drawing again?”

She nodded. “Just lines.”

He leaned slightly to see.

It wasn’t a full picture yet, Just the outline of a window, A curve of a train seat. Faint motion lines that suggested movement or at least the feeling of it.

“…It’s a train?”

She nodded again.

“Where to?”

Reina didn’t answer right away. Her pencil rested on the edge of the paper.

“Nowhere,” she said. “Just… forward.”

Haruki sat with that for a moment. Then asked quietly, “Is something bothering you?”

She looked up.

“Not bothering,” she said. “Just thinking.”

He didn’t push further, She rarely explained things fully. But she never lied, either.

Her pencil moved again.

“Sometimes I feel like… I missed the chance to say things when it mattered,” she said after a moment. “And even if I wanted to say them now, it’s like the train’s already moved on.”

Haruki looked at the sketch, At the blurred lines outside the train window.

“I think… you can still say things,” he said.

“Even if it's late?”

He nodded.

“Especially then.”

A quiet pause followed, Reina’s pencil stopped moving.

Then, with no shift in her expression, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small cloth bundle. Neatly folded, held together with a ribbon.

“I tried something new,” she said.

She unwrapped it. Inside were two perfectly round buns, golden at the edges. Chestnut colored, with soft wrinkles on the surface.

“I looked up the recipe over the weekend.”

Haruki took one,

It was warm, Still fresh somehow.

He bit into it. soft, a little crumbly, sweet with a subtle nutty taste.

“It’s good,” he said, surprised. “Really good.”

Her eyes light up for a moment. “The first batch burned.”

“You made more than one batch?”

She looked down. “I wanted it to turn out right.”

Haruki took another bite, slower this time.

He didn’t say much after that, Just sat with her.

They left together just after the others.

The hallway lights were already dim, The sky outside looked darker than it should have at this hour.

Haruki held his umbrella out as they stepped into the rain.

Reina didn’t bring one.

He didn’t ask why.

They simply walked in steps under the same umbrella, shoulders not quite touching, shoes tapping gently against wet pavement.

The street ahead was quiet, No cars. Just rain pooling in small puddles, and the smell of wet soil coming from the roadside.

After a few minutes, Reina spoke.

“Do you still have the charm?”

He looked down at his bag, where the little red thread piece still hung from the zipper pull.

“Yeah.”

She seemed relieved, Then added, “I wasn’t sure if you’d keep it.”

“I like it,” he said.

Reina held onto her bag strap with both hands, her fingers slightly curled inward.

They kept walking.

At the next corner, Haruki stopped.

“Hey,” he said.

She turned to him.

“You said something earlier, About missing the chance to say things.”

Reina blinked.

“…Yeah?”

“You can still say them,” he said.

He didn’t expect an answer right away.

And she didn’t give one.

But she met his eyes for a little longer than usual. Her expression was quiet... unreadable.

Then she nodded.

And that was enough.