Act 17: Surprise Visit

Hana’s classes were still in session, with about a week left before winter break. I spent most of my time at home, drifting from room to room, turning the same thoughts over and over as I tried to figure out how I could help her.

That afternoon, I helped Mom in the garden, gathering what we could before winter fully settled in and claimed the rest. The air was cool, carrying the faint sweetness of citrus. I moved on autopilot, twisting fruit free from its stem and dropping it into the bag at my feet.

Mom noticed before I said anything.

“Still thinking about it?” she asked, plucking one from the branch and weighing it in her palm before adding it to the bag.

I glanced over at her, then lowered my gaze. “Yeah… I just—I want the best for Hana. But I don’t want to smother her either. She’s already dealing with enough.”

Mom smiled softly, the kind that didn’t rush to fix anything. “Yukina, anything you do for her will be enough. You don’t have to solve everything. Sometimes just being there matters more than having the right answer.”

The words settled into me slowly, like warmth spreading through cold fingers. The tightness in my chest eased, not disappearing, but loosening enough that I could breathe again.

I reached up and twisted another fruit free. It came away easily, the branch springing back into place with a quiet rustle. The simple motion grounded me, the weight of the fruit solid and reassuring in my hand before it joined the others in the bag.

Still, doubt lingered.

“But what if she doesn’t want my help?” I asked quietly.

Mom paused, then met my eyes. “Then you respect that. And you stay close anyway.” She chuckled lightly. “You don’t stop being her sister just because you don’t know what to do next.”

I let out a small breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

Maybe that was enough for now.

Bringing me out of the trance of over thinking, my phone in my pocket began to ring. I dropped the last fruit and I grabbed my phone from my back pocket, I didn’t even look at the name on the screen before answering.

“Hello?” My tone dry and unwelcoming.

“Yukina?” The voice that spoke through the phone instantly perked me up as I stood up straight, “Why do you sound like that, are you okay?” her concern seemingly skyrocketing.

I reflexively looked at my Mom then glanced away, covering the bottom of my phone as I spoke.

“E-Everything’s fine. I was helping my mom pick some mikan’s from our garden before they withered for the season.”

“That sounds like fun, I’ve never done that before!”

Hearing Natsuki’s voice put me at more ease than I had been at my own home.

I stared at the work we’d done, the dirt-streaked gloves tossed aside, the pruning scissors abandoned in the grass since we’d ended up pulling everything by hand anyway, the faint sheen of sweat clinging to our skin.

“It’s not really anything exciting,” I said. “But it’s a bit of a workout.”

Then, without meaning to, I pictured Natsuki standing beneath the tree instead. Mikan cradled in her hands, a soft sun hat perched over her blonde hair, an oversized sweater and jogging pants like she’d just wandered out here on a whim. I could almost see it: the way her face would light up, how she’d laugh over something small and ordinary.

The image made my lips curve.

“On second thought… you’d probably have a lot of fun with it.”

She giggled, the sound light and warm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you ever came to visit,” I said, my voice turning playful before I could stop it, “I could show you the ropes. It’s easy. You’d pick it up right away.”

She hummed thoughtfully, a smile slipping into her tone.
“Mm… getting my hands dirty, working up a sweat, and being taught by you?”

There was a brief pause.

“That does sound kind of nice.”

My chest warmed at her words, the image in my head settling into something quieter, more real. Not a fantasy, just the thought of her here, sharing something simple with me. Though there was a small inkling that wasn’t what she was talking about but I brushed aside that thought.

“Yukina, are you alright? Your face is red,” my mom said, glancing over. “You should go inside. It’s getting warm out here.”

“Ah—oh. I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I’ll just take this call inside. Are you okay out here?”

“There’s only a few more left. Go on.”

I slipped inside through the sliding door and closed it softly behind me. As I kicked off my shoes, a quiet giggle sounded through the phone. I lifted it back to my ear.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Your face,” Natsuki said easily. “She said it was all red. Even when I’m not there, I can picture it perfectly.”

I sank onto the couch, the cushions giving beneath me as my shoulders finally relaxed. “I’m glad you remember it so clearly.”

She hummed. “Your reactions are hard to forget.”

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. Talking to her felt easy now, like I didn’t have to think so carefully about every word. “So… where are you right now?”

There was a brief pause, the faint sound of movement on her end. “We’ve finished traveling, but my Mom still says there’s things we have to do at home. I had meetings and fittings all morning. I’m exhausted, but I’ll be stopping for a bit soon.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?” The question came out before I could catch it.

She was quiet for a moment. “I am. Some days I miss my bed, but… I usually end up thinking about you. About the next time we’ll see each other.”

I shifted, pressing the phone closer to my ear. “Me too.” After a beat, I added, a little sheepishly, “I’ve been thinking about our next… date. Maybe dinner. Or the aquarium. Though—people might recognize you if it’s crowded, so maybe that’s not a good—”

“As long as it’s with you,” she said gently, “I don’t really care where we go. You don’t have to overthink it.”

I sat up, heart thumping. “I know. I just… want to make the most of our time. That’s all.”

And on the other end of the line, I could hear her smile.

The doorbell echoed through the house. I glanced out toward the garden, spotting Mom still finishing up outside.

“Sorry, hold on a second…” I murmured into the phone.

Before I could reach the door, the bell rang again.

Too early for Dad and Hana.

Still holding my phone, I opened the door with my free hand.

“Hello—”

The word caught in my throat.

Standing in front of me was a sight I hadn’t expected so soon. Natsuki stood just beyond the threshold, her white mask tugged down beneath her chin, her phone still pressed to her ear. Golden curls slipped free from beneath a soft knitted beanie, swaying gently in the cold breeze. She wore a long, oversized coat, cream-colored, tailored that swallowed her frame in warmth, the sleeves slightly too long for her hands.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. She simply looked at me.

Then her eyes curved into a smile, bright and unmistakable.

I forgot how to breathe.

I had barely taken a step forward before Natsuki was already there, arms looping around my shoulders as she pressed her cheek against mine. The contact knocked the breath from my lungs.

“Natsuki—!” Her name slipped out on instinct, surprise and relief tangled together.

My hands hesitated for half a second before settling at her mid-back, holding her the way I’d wanted to for weeks. She was warm. Solid. Real. The kind of warmth you only notice when you’ve been missing it.

She pulled back just enough to grin at me, eyes bright. “Surprise.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were taking a break somewhere else.”

“I was,” she said easily. “And since I was nearby, I thought I’d stop by.”

Stop by.

The words sank in slower than they should have. Not stay. Just a visit. I felt it in my chest before I could stop it, a small dip I tried to smooth over.

She studied me for a moment, then tilted her head. “I don’t have a lot of time,” she admitted. “Kurogane’s waiting. I wanted to see you before I had to leave again.”

It was too soon.

“…We could walk,” I said, the words tumbling out before I thought them through. “Just around the neighborhood. I could show you the area. It’s quiet this time of day.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’d like that.”

I nodded, then froze.

“Oh—wait,” I said, suddenly aware of myself. My clothes. My hair. “I—I’ll be right back.”

She laughed softly as I hurried up the stairs, nearly tripping on the last step. I changed in record time, pulled my hair together, and poked my head into the kitchen as my Mom was putting away the Mikan’s we harvested.

“I’m going out for a bit,” I told my mom quickly.

She glanced up, took one look at my face, “So sudden? Well, don’t be out too late.”

By the time I came back, Natsuki was still waiting near the door, hands tucked into her coat sleeves. Kurogane stood a short distance away, giving us space.

“We’ll just be a little while,” I said, bowing slightly to him. “I’ll bring her back soon.”

He gave a nod. “Take your time.”

The energy between us was quieter than before. It had been weeks since I’d last seen her, and things that once felt effortless now took a bit more thought. Our hands brushed more than once as we walked, each near-miss sending a spark of awareness through me. When she finally took my hand and threaded our fingers together, I instinctively lifted my free hand to my face, rubbing at my cheek to hide the warmth creeping up.

We wandered through the neighborhood, the streets calm and mostly empty. Natsuki pulled her white mask back up, covering the lower half of her face. With so few people around, it felt unnecessary, but safer that way.

I led her to a small nearby park. Children played in the sandbox while their parents watched from a distance. It wasn’t anything like Aozora Park. No wide paths, no open stretch to run, just a quiet space meant for lingering. We settled onto a bench beneath a gazebo at the edge of the park, our hands still intertwined.

A slow breath slipped from me, my shoulders easing despite the thoughts still tangled in my head from earlier. Hana. Home. Everything I hadn’t quite sorted out yet.

Natsuki noticed immediately. Her grip tightened, just slightly.

“That sounded heavy,” she said gently. “Have you been running since you’ve been here?”

I squeezed her hand in return. “Yeah. I haven’t really stopped.” I hesitated, then added, “Things have just…been complicated at home.”

She didn’t interrupt. She only stayed there with me, listening.

“Complicated might not be the right word,” I said quietly. My thumb traced slow circles against the back of her hand as I searched for the words. “My little sister, Hana… she was injured in high school. It ended her volleyball career.”

My grip tightened before I realized it. “That sport was everything to her. And now… she doesn’t know what comes next. I keep thinking about how to help, but every idea feels useless.”

I let out a sharp breath.

Natsuki’s expression softened. Then, almost unexpectedly, she smiled small, thoughtful, like she’d remembered something important.

“Do you remember what you told me that day in the park?” she asked.

I looked up. Of course I did. I nodded.

“You said it was okay if the answer didn’t come all at once.” She stood, gently letting go of my hand, then turned to face me. “I held onto that. I kept showing up, even when it felt like nothing was changing. And little by little, it did.”

She met my eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something big. Sometimes just being there saying the right thing at the right time is enough to help someone move forward.”

The sunlight caught behind her, outlining her figure, but I barely noticed. Her words settled deep, clicking into place.

I didn’t need some grand solution. I didn’t need to fix everything.

I just needed to stay. Just like Mom said.

Something in my chest eased, a tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying finally giving way. I stood, reaching for her hand—

And then I heard a familiar voice.

“Big sis?”

I turned to see Hana standing a few steps away, a volleyball tucked under her arm. Her gaze flicked from my face to my half-raised hand still reaching for Natsuki’s just as I yanked it back.

“H-Hana! You’re already done with school?” I blurted, stepping sideways in front of Natsuki like a human shield.

“Yeah, early release for exam review,” she said flatly, then squinted. “Why are you standing like that?”

I froze, arms awkwardly spread like I’d been caught mid–jumping jack.

Before I could scramble for an excuse, Natsuki calmly leaned out from behind me and stepped forward.

Hana stared.

Then her eyes widened. The volleyball slipped from her hands and bounced once against the pavement.

“Y-You’re— Ko—”

Natsuki winked.

Hana short-circuited for a solid three seconds, eyes darting between us, before snapping her fingers. “Right! You two are dating! How did I forget that?!”

I stiffened.

I had… definitely not told Natsuki that Hana already knew.

The realization hit Hana like a switch flipping, and suddenly the questions came rushing out. “What do you like about my sister? When did you meet? Are you staying over?!”

“Hana!” I tried to cut in, mortified.

But Natsuki didn’t look overwhelmed at all. If anything, she looked amused. Answering with easy smiles, unfazed by the interrogation.

“I can’t stay over,” she said gently, “but I wanted to see your sister, even if just for a little while. I’m glad I got to meet you too.”

It was polite. Composed and sincere.

Hana nodded like she was filing away crucial information, then glanced at me with a knowing grin.

I sighed.

Of course she’d enjoy this.

And despite myself, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Hana looked just as deflated as I felt when Natsuki mentioned she could only stay a little while. She kept her eyes on the ground, absently rolling the volleyball against her shoe. Noticing the shift, Natsuki tilted her head and spoke up, gentle as ever.

“Your sister told me you used to play volleyball,” she said. “Would you be willing to teach me some of the basics before I go?”

Hana’s head snapped up.

The change was instant. Her eyes lit up, bright and eager, like a kid offered ice cream on a hot day. She grabbed the ball she’d dropped and nodded so fast I thought she might get dizzy.

“Yeah! I mean—of course!” she said, already stepping into place.

She started with the fundamentals, explaining how to bend the knees and keep your weight low, how your arms should be straight and locked together. “You don’t swing,” Hana said, demonstrating by pressing her forearms together. “You let the ball bounce off you. Like this.”

She took a few steps back and tossed the ball gently toward Natsuki.

It didn’t go well.

The ball skimmed past her arms, then bounced off the ground. The second try wasn’t much better. By the third miss, Natsuki puffed out her cheeks and shot me an accusing look as I chuckled on the side.

“Hey! Instead of laughing, how about you help me?” she protested. “This is way harder than it looks!”

I sighed theatrically and stood, stepping onto the grass beside her. Hana tossed the ball toward me this time. I dropped into position, knees bent, arms locked, and let the ball rebound cleanly back to her.

“Just like that,” I said.

Natsuki narrowed her eyes. “That didn’t help at all.”

So I walked over and stood behind her.

Close enough that I could feel her freeze for half a second.

I gently guided her arms into position, adjusting her stance. “Lower your hips,” I murmured, nudging her down slightly. “Keep your shoulders relaxed. Watch the ball.”

Hana tossed it again.

As the ball came in, I helped her dip and rise in one smooth motion, letting it meet her forearms. The contact wasn’t perfect, but the ball lifted and rolled back toward Hana.

Natsuki blinked, then broke into a grin. “I did it.”

I let them rally back and forth after that. It wasn’t flawless, but each attempt got a little better. Hana laughed more with every pass, calling out small corrections, encouragement slipping easily from her mouth. There was a brightness in her expression I hadn’t seen in a long time, like something dormant had stirred awake.

I watched quietly, committing the scene to memory.

By the time the sun dipped lower, we started heading back toward the house. Hana walked a few steps ahead, the volleyball tucked under her arm. She stared at it as if lost in thought, her steps slowing.

Then, softly, she spoke.

“I guess… sometimes the thing you’re looking for is right in front of you,” Hana murmured, almost to herself. A small smile curved her lips. “You don’t always have to search so hard for it.”

Something tightened in my chest, sharp and sudden, like the breath had been knocked out of me. I blinked hard, steadying myself.

Natsuki’s fingers slipped into mine, warm and grounding. She looked at me with a gentle smile as we reached the front of the house. The car door opened behind us, and Kurogane stepped out, already moving to retrieve her things.

Before I could say anything, Hana spun around.

“Thank you for today!” she said brightly. “I think I found something important thanks to the both of you.” Her eyes flicked between us, playful and knowing. “Take good care of each other, okay? And Big Sis—don’t you dare make her sad, or I’ll be mad at you!”

With that, she darted inside, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as the door slid shut.

“Geez… that girl,” I muttered, a quiet laugh escaping me.

“She’s a good little sister,” Natsuki said fondly. “I’m an only child, so… I think I’m a little jealous of what you two have.”

I turned to her. She was smiling, open and bright, the kind of expression that made my chest ache in the best way.

Then her gaze shifted toward Kurogane.

“Thank you for showing me around today,” she said softly. “I just wish we had more time.”

The words settled between us. The same thought I hadn’t wanted to voice.

I didn’t want her to leave yet.

Her expression mirrored mine, a trace of sadness slipping through the warmth. For a moment, neither of us moved.

“Excuse me for a second,” I said, releasing her hand reluctantly.

I stepped toward Kurogane, feeling her eyes follow me.

“Is she ready to head home?” the bald man asked, already standing by the open car door.

My throat tightened. I opened my mouth, closed it, then forced the words out before I could talk myself out of it.

“Could you… come back tomorrow morning?” My heart hammered so loudly I was sure they could hear it. “I just— I want to spend a little more time with her. We won’t go anywhere. She can just stay the night.”

The words tumbled over each other, reckless and honest.

Kurogane studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then his shoulders eased.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. “Seven a.m. sharp.”

The relief hit me all at once, like my lungs finally remembered how to breathe.

“I’ll make sure she’s ready,” I said quickly, bowing a little too deep.

He turned to Natsuki, informing her of the plan. Her confusion lasted all of two seconds before he retrieved her small suitcase from the trunk, set it beside us, and drove off without another word.

I picked up her luggage and turned back to her.

“I guess… we still have a bit more time.”

Her surprise softened into a smile that made my chest ache.

I walked her to the door and opened it, stepping aside. “After you.”

She paused, eyes flicking between me and the house, then leaned in just enough to murmur, “I didn’t think you had this kind of move in you, Tsukishiro Yukina.”

She slipped past me, grinning.