Chapter 2: After-School Paths

The next day, Kosuke found himself heading to the library before he even realized his feet had chosen the direction for him. Snow still covered the ground outside, thin and powdery, the kind that made every footstep sound softer. The cold pressed against the windows, but inside the school the air was warm and steady.

He slid open the library door.

Hanami was already there.

She sat in the same spot by the window, sketchbook open, pencil moving in slow, thoughtful strokes. When she heard the door, she glanced up. Her eyes brightened the slightest bit—just enough for Kosuke to feel a quiet warmth spread through his chest.

“You came,” she said with a gentle smile.

“Of course,” he answered, a little shy. “I said I would.”

That was all it took. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It felt like two heartbeats finding the same rhythm.

They didn’t talk much during lunch, but somehow the little moments between words felt more important than the conversations themselves. The soft scratch of her pencil. The way she glanced outside every few minutes to check the snow. The way Kosuke breathed slower when he sat in that warm quiet space beside her.

When the bell signaled the end of lunch, Hanami closed her sketchbook.

“Are you heading home now?” she asked.

Kosuke nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“I walk most of the way.”

Something about her tone felt like an invitation.

Kosuke hesitated for only a second. “Want to walk together?”

A small smile formed on her lips. “I’d like that.”

---

The air outside was colder than before. Their breaths rose in faint clouds as they stepped out of the school gate, side by side but with a careful space between them. Not too close. Not too far. Just enough to feel each other’s presence.

Hanami held her sketchbook against her chest as if guarding something precious. Kosuke noticed the way her fingers curled around the edges, gentle and protective.

“You draw a lot, don’t you?” he asked.

She glanced at him, cheeks lightly tinted by the cold. “I draw everything I feel. It’s easier than saying it out loud.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked ahead, watching the snowflakes drift. “Some things don’t sound right when I speak them. But when I draw… it comes out honest.” She paused, then laughed softly. “It probably doesn’t make sense.”

Kosuke shook his head. “No. It makes perfect sense.”

It did. More than he expected.

Hanami slowed a little, thinking. “What about you? What makes you feel the way drawing makes me feel?”

Kosuke took a moment. He wasn’t used to talking about himself. But with her, the words came more easily than he expected.

“The sky,” he said. “Especially at night. Stars. Meteor showers. That kind of thing.”

She looked up instinctively, even though it was daytime. “Why the stars?”

Kosuke smiled faintly. “Because they’re always there. Even when you can’t see them. It’s… comforting.”

Hanami’s eyes softened. “You talk differently when you mention the sky.”

“What do you mean?”

“You get brighter. Like the way your voice changes when you remember something you love.”

Kosuke felt his face warm—not from the cold, but from her noticing something he hadn’t realized about himself.

“Well,” he said quietly, “it’s kind of the same way you change when you draw. You look… peaceful.”

Hanami blinked, surprised. A small, uncertain smile tugged at her lips. “No one’s ever said that before.”

They kept walking.

The snow crunched softly beneath their shoes. Cars passed with muffled sounds. The world felt slower than usual, wrapped in winter’s hush.

At a small bridge the road split into two directions.

“This is where I go left,” Hanami said, gently shifting the sketchbook in her arms.

Kosuke looked down the path she usually took—lined with bare trees, snow resting on the branches, footprints scattered like tiny stories left behind.

“It’s a nice walk,” he said.

“It is.” She hesitated. “And your route?”

“Straight ahead,” he replied. “About ten minutes.”

“Oh.” She hugged her sketchbook closer. “That’s not too far.”

It wasn’t. But it felt far enough that Kosuke suddenly wished the roads didn’t split at all.

Hanami stepped back slightly, her breath forming a cloud between them. “Walk with me again tomorrow?”

Kosuke didn’t answer right away. He wanted to be casual, calm, normal. But his heart beat faster than his thoughts.

“Yes,” he said simply. “I’d like that.”

Her smile this time was a little bigger. A little warmer.

They shared a small wave before turning in opposite directions. The moment Kosuke took two steps forward, he couldn’t help looking back.

Hanami was also glancing over her shoulder.

Their eyes met.

Only for a second. But it was enough to make the cold day feel gentler.

---

That night, as Kosuke sat by his bedroom window, he found himself staring at the faint glow of stars behind the clouds. He thought about Hanami’s sketchbook. Her quiet smile. The way her eyes softened when he talked about the sky.

He wondered if she was drawing something now.

He wondered if it was the snow.

Or maybe their walk home.

Either way, he knew one thing:

Tomorrow didn’t feel as lonely anymore.

And for the first time since moving, Kosuke closed his eyes with a peaceful heart, looking forward to a new day.