Chapter 47: Midnight Hunger

Hanami’s and Kosuke’s POV

Hanami

The room sinks into silence after Kosuke’s confession.

I was at your wedding.

Those words still echo in my chest, heavy and warm and painful all at once.

I sit there, staring at the small table lamp as if the light can steady me. My eyes sting again, but I’m trying my best to hold everything together.

Then my stomach betrays me.

It growls—loud enough to echo in the quiet room.

Kosuke looks up fast, surprised. A smile almost escapes him. He tries to hide it, but I see the corners of his mouth pulling up.

I want to be embarrassed, but instead I breathe out a small laugh.

“I… didn’t eat much at the reunion,” I mumble.

His voice softens. “Do you want to get something? There’s a café nearby.”

For a moment, I hesitate. Stepping back out into the world feels risky.

But staying in this room with the weight of the past pressing on my chest is worse.

“…Yeah,” I say quietly. “Let’s go.”

---

Kosuke

I grab my coat without thinking too much about it. My hands still feel warm from where she cried into them earlier. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act now. Should I give her space? Should I walk behind her? Should I pretend everything is normal?

But she stands close—closer than she used to.

We walk out of the hotel room and into the hallway. The fluorescent lights hum above us. She walks carefully, as if she’s afraid the night will judge her for crying earlier.

Outside, the streets are almost empty. Neon signs reflect on the wet pavement from the evening drizzle. The air is cool, the kind that makes you want to bury your hands in your pockets.

Hanami steps closer, but not quite touching me. There’s a half-step between us that feels intentional, like she needs me near but not too near.

A quiet apology lives in that distance.

And maybe a tiny plea too.

I keep my pace slow so she doesn’t feel hurried.

“You okay?” I finally ask.

She nods, then shakes her head. “I don’t know. But I don’t want to go home yet.”

Something tightens in my chest.

I’m glad she said it.

But I’m also scared of what it means.

---

Hanami

The streetlights glow softer than usual. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Everything feels fragile tonight.

I keep glancing at Kosuke, trying to read him. He looks calm, but I can tell his mind is racing. His shoulders are slightly tense, his jaw clenched in that way he always had when he tried to hide his emotions.

After everything that happened by the river, after crying so hard I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t expect him to still stay. I didn’t expect him to walk beside me like this—careful, patient, protective in his quiet way.

“I’m sorry,” I say suddenly.

“For what?” he asks.

“For… crying like that. For being a mess.”

His answer comes quick. “Anyone would cry.”

“Not you,” I whisper.

He doesn’t respond, but something flickers across his face.

A sadness.

A memory.

A regret.

I look away before I start crying again.

---

Kosuke

When we pass the street corner, I notice she’s rubbing her arms. I’m about to offer my coat, but she shifts a little closer, almost leaning into my side.

She’s not cold.

She’s seeking something else.

Comfort.

Reassurance.

A connection she lost years ago.

We reach a crosswalk. The red light reflects in her eyes. For a moment, she looks like the girl I used to know—the one who always waited for me after school, who always matched her pace to mine, who always stayed one step closer when she was tired.

“Hanami,” I say quietly.

She looks up.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Her breath catches, and she nods once, almost too quickly.

Then the light turns green.

We cross together, our shadows blending under the single streetlamp on the next block.

---

Hanami

The café comes into view—small, warm, a little old-fashioned. The windows glow with soft yellow light, and there are only a few customers inside.

I stop for a second at the entrance, fingers brushing the strap of my bag.

“I didn’t think I’d ever walk through the night with you again.”

He looks at me with a surprise so gentle that it hurts.

“I didn’t think I’d get the chance,” he says.

I inhale slowly.

Tonight is fragile.

A moment that shouldn’t exist, but somehow does.

“Then…” I whisper, pushing the door open, “let’s make the most of it.”

Kosuke follows me inside.

And for the first time in years, the night doesn’t feel lonely.