A Walk Toward Something New

Yui stood outside her sister’s dorm with both hands held out, palms up, as if expecting a gift. Ayaka looked down at the empty, demanding hands and offered them nothing.

“What is this?” Ayaka asked, dripping sarcasm.

“Onee‑chan…” Yui moaned dramatically.

The gold medal was tucked neatly in a red box behind Ayaka’s back. Her sister’s excitement was adorable, and she wanted to savor it for a moment longer.

“I paid for you to come watch, and you expect a present too?”

Yui’s desperation only grew. Medals were her ammunition; the way she fought back when classmates talked badly about her sister. If they only knew how amazing she was.

“I already gave you the teddy bear,” Yui bargained. “Where is my medal?”

Ayaka gasped theatrically. “You were performing too? Which medal did you earn?”

Yui was not amused. She leaned left, then right, trying to peek behind Ayaka to snatch the medal herself.

“I earned the ‘best imouto a figure skater could ever dream of’ medal,” she declared, hands out again.

“Oh, I remember that contest,” Ayaka teased. “I think I have that medal here somewhere.”

She finally presented the medal box with exaggerated fanfare.

“Gold Medal winner of Fujimoto Ayaka’s Best Imouto is… Fujimoto Yui!” Ayaka clapped as if announcing a national champion.

Yui snatched the box joyfully and opened it. Her smile brightened as she lifted the medal into the light, admiring the shine.

“I’m your only imouto,” Yui reminded her. “This is for the best imouto in history.”

Ayaka smiled softly. She knew that. Yui never failed to brighten her mood. She brushed her sister’s hair with a gentle hand, watching her admire the medal. If only their whole family could have come; she missed their parents too.

“Make sure that gets safely to Okaasan,” Ayaka said.

“Of course,” Yui replied.

She tucked the medal back into its box and placed it carefully in her backpack. She would not let that bag out of her sight for even a moment. Her medal was too valuable.

Ayaka leaned in for a hug, trying to hide her disappointment that she could not stay longer. Yui held her tight, secretly wishing the same.

A short distance away, Kaito watched quietly, giving them space. He did not move until the sisters waved goodbye and Yui disappeared into the waiting taxi.

Ayaka watched the taxi until it disappeared around the corner, only then letting her shoulders fall. She turned toward Kaito, raising her eyebrows with a smile that carried a hint of dissatisfaction. Time with her family was rare these days… but maybe she could make up for it with a well‑earned date.

She walked toward him slowly. Even with all her boldness, this moment felt like it required a little hesitation. She was hesitating whether it was required or not.

Kaito waited exactly as she expected: still, patient, unhurried. He was not the type to rush himself or her. She was just glad she was allowed to enter his private little world.

She stopped in front of him, a hint of shyness softening her expression. Kaito recognized the feeling instantly; he just never expected to see it coming from Ayaka.

“Ready for our date?” she finally asked.

Kaito cleared his throat, suddenly aware he had not breathed the entire time she had been walking toward him. He had been waiting for this moment with a strange mix of excitement and dread… but none of that mattered now.

“Impatiently on the starting blocks,” he said.

Ayaka reached up and adjusted his imaginary crown. “Still looking good up there.”

He pointed to hers. “I think one of the dents got fixed.”

They turned in unison and began walking side by side, toward the first date that Ayaka’s gold medal had earned them.

Neither of them had ever really dated before. Being national‑level athletes demanded a kind of dedication that did not leave room for much else. So they drifted through a park they happened to come across, breathing the same air but not doing much more than that.

“I suppose you’ll need to start getting ready for your national championships again,” Ayaka said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Daichi‑sensei already sent me a new schedule,” he admitted.

Ayaka slapped her palms lightly against her thighs, nerves flickering through her movements. The park was beautiful, with soft light, quiet paths, and a gentle breeze, but she was not sure if this counted as a date.

“Guess you won’t be able to enjoy this fresh air for a while,” she said.

Kaito looked around. He usually preferred the sharp, familiar scent of chlorine, but the fresh air felt different today. Better. Maybe because she was beside him. He was not sure which he preferred anymore.

“I’d better make the best of it then,” he said, not quite knowing how to express what he actually felt.

Ayaka’s thoughts tangled. This is not any different from how we always are. So why am I nervous? Did calling it a date somehow change everything?

A puppy wandered through the park, nose to the ground, tail wagging in confused little circles. Ayaka hurried over and knelt beside it, running her fingers through its soft, dark brown fur. It was too clean, too well‑kept to be a stray. She glanced around, searching for the owner.

Kaito watched from a step away, taking in the scene. He still was not sure how he had ended up with someone so lively, so bright. She was going to pull him out of his quiet world, and he did not mind the idea at all.

An older woman rounded the corner, calling out in distress.

“Tanner!”

Her worry melted the moment she saw Ayaka petting her dog.

“Thank you so much, ojou‑chan,” she said, hurrying over with a leash in hand.

“It’s no problem,” Ayaka replied, rising to stand beside Kaito.

The woman clipped the leash onto Tanner and gave the couple a warm, knowing smile. “Oh, don’t you two look good together.”

Ayaka turned toward Kaito, and he was already smiling back. The compliment solidified her thoughts. Yes, this was a date. Maybe not the ones she had seen in the movies, but good enough for her.

They watched the woman and her dog disappear down the path before continuing their own walk. Silence settled between them again, but it felt different now; softer, steadier, full of quiet possibility.

Tomorrow, the pool and the rink would call them back to their separate worlds. But today, they had the park, the stillness, and each other.