Chapter 9 – Distance in the Sketches

The rain didn’t return, but the clounds stayed gray, as if it hadn’t decided what it wanted to become.

Haruki still took the path behind the gym during lunch.

But Reina didn’t always join him.

On Monday, she had club duties. On Tuesday, she said she had to visit the library. Neither felt like an excuse, but Haruki noticed it anyway that quiet space where she usually sat beside him now left open.

When she did come, they still shared food. Still sat on the same bench, under the same tree.
She still handed him a piece of simmered pumpkin without looking, and he still accepted it without question.

But something felt off.

Not in what they said because they rarely said much but in the pauses between what they didn’t.

By Wednesday, Mitsuki had started to stayed more around Haruki’s desk.

“I don’t get you two,” he said during break, chewing his gum. “You’re close, right? But not actually close.”

Haruki glanced at him. “What does that mean?”

Mitsuki shrugged. “She smiles more when she looks at you, Even when you’re not doing anything.”

“I don’t think she does.”

“She does,” Mitsuki said plainly. “And you notice. Which means you’re thinking about it.”

Haruki didn’t reply.

Instead, he looked out the window again, The branches of the courtyard tree had started to thin.

He remembered the warmth of the thermos Reina always brought, The sound of her chopsticks tapping lightly against the bento box. The way she turned her sketchbook just enough for him to see it.

Small things.

And lately, those small things had grown smaller.

The literature club still met in the same room, with the same voices and rustling pages. Reina was always there, but more often now, she stood at the far side of the room sometimes beside Aoi, sometimes with Mitsuki.

She wasn’t avoiding him.

Not really.

But their usual orbit felt off. Like they were still circling the same space, but slightly further apart.

On Thursday, Haruki arrived a bit late. Reina was already flipping through a book of art prints, head tilted slightly. She didn’t look up when he entered.

He sat near the back shelf, unsure if he should say anything.

After a while, Reina approached. She held something in her hands her sketchbook. He thought, for a moment, she might hand it to him.

Instead, she paused, turned slightly, and walked past.

Haruki stayed behind after club that day.

Not out of obligation, Just… not ready to go home yet.

He stood near the window. The faint smell of rain still in the clubroom air. The clubroom felt dimmer than usual, even with the lights on.

That’s when he noticed it.

A thin, older sketchbook, Not Reina’s usual one placed between two thick anthologies on the corner shelf. It wasn’t hidden, but it wasn’t meant to be seen, either.

He hesitated, then pulled it out carefully.

Inside were pages of soft pencil sketches, Some unfinished.

He saw the courtyard tree drawn from above, the bench sketched at an angle.
Then on one page two figures. One reading, One holding something.

On the next : just one.

The bench was empty on one side.

Haruki closed the sketchbook gently and placed it back.

Maybe it wasn’t distance she was creating on purpose.

Maybe it was hesitation.
Just... maybe.

That night, he opened the small drawer of his desk and took out a leaf he had picked up this evening.

From the courtyard.

It had started to curl at the edges, Still golden in places.

He didn’t know what made him keep it back then, Maybe he just wanted to hold onto something simple.

He thought about Reina’s sketches how she preserved moments without explaining them.

And maybe, in his own way, he wanted to do the same.

The resin kit he ordered was still on his shelf, He had opened it once before but never used it.

Now he did.

He cleared space, pulled on gloves, and read the instructions twice. The resin came in two bottles one clear, one labeled “hardener.” He stirred them slowly, careful not to rush. The last time he’d tried, he’d gotten too many bubbles.

He placed the leaf into a small oval mold. Not quite centered, but close enough. Then poured the resin over it. Slowly and Carefully.

He tapped the sides gently, watching the bubbles rise and pop.

He let it hardened overnight near the window.

In the morning, he popped the hardened piece out of the mold.

It was smooth, The resin clear enough to see every fine line of the leaf. It wasn’t perfect there was a bubble near the edge and a tiny scratch near the top but somehow that made it better.

It felt honest.

Haruki attached a small ring to the top, Then slipped it into his bag.

No note, No message.

Just something to give her when the time felt right.

Not to ask for anything.

Not to fix anything.

Just to say : I noticed too.