Chapter One: The Wind Takes One

The first letter Yukari Fujimoto ever wrote was when she was twelve.

It was three sentences long, folded into a square so small it looked like a paper charm. She had written it after a boy in her class who shared his umbrella with her during a rainstorm. She wanted to thank him properly, but every time she tried to speak the words got stuck somewhere between her chest and her throat.

So she wrote them instead.

The letter sat in her desk drawer for three years.

Eventually she threw it away.

Not because she stopped meaning it—but because the boy moved to another school, and the moment had quietly, the way most moments in Yukari’s life did.

After that, writing letters became a habit.

Whenever Yukari felt something too big to say, she wrote it down.

She wrote when she felt grateful.

She wrote when she felt embarrassed.

She wrote when her chest felt too full of emotions she didn’t understand.

But she never sent any of them.

Instead, they lived in a pale blue envelope tucked carefully in her school bag.

The morning the wind stole one of her letters started like any other spring morning in Sakurazaka.

The air smelled faintly of sea salt drifting up from the harbor, and cherry blossom petals floated lazily through the streets like soft pink snow.

Yukari stood at the train station platform clutching her bag to her chest while people rushed past her.

Morning commuters had a rhythm to them.

Quiet footsteps.

Phone screens glowing.

Coffee cups steaming.

Yukari moved slower than everyone else, as if she was slightly out of sync with the world.

“ Good morning, Yukari!”

A cheerful voice cut through the crowd.

Mika sato appeared beside her, somehow energetic despite the early hour.

Mika had the kind of presence that made people turn their heads. Her hair was always perfect, her smile always bright, and she spoke with the confidence of someone who had never been afraid of saying the wrong thing.

The exact opposite of Yukari.

“You look like you’re preparing for a funeral,”

Mika said, peering at her.

“I’m not,” Yukari replied.

“You say that, but your face says otherwise.”

Yukari instinctively touched her cheek as if checking.

Mika laughed.

“I’m kidding. Relax.”

The train screeched into the station, and they boarded with the rest of the crowd.

They stood side by side, swaying gently as they boarded with the rest of the crowd.

Mika leaned closer. 

“So,” she whispered dramatically,” did you write another one?”

Yukari froze.

“How did you know?”

“You always look like that when you write a new letter?”

Yukari sighed softly.

“I don’t look like anything.”

“You look like someone who just confessed their deepest feelings to a piece of paper.”

That was… uncomfortably accurate.

Yukari looked down at her bag.

Inside, tucked between her textbooks, was the newest letter she had written the night before.

She hadn’t even decided who it was for yet.

Sometimes she wrote letters to people she liked.

Sometimes to people she missed.

Sometimes to people she barely knew.

This one was different.

It wasn’t really addressed to anyone.

Just… someone.

School was already buzzing with noise when they arrived.

Lockers slammed.

Students laughed. 

Teachers called out reminders about assignments.

Yukari slipped through the hallway quietly, hoping not to attract attention.

Unfortunately, Mika had the opposite goal.

“Did you hear?” Mika said excitedly as they walked toward their classroom.

“Hear what?”

“There’s a new transfer student.”

Yukari nodded politely.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” Mika stared at her. “You’re not curious?”

“Not particularly.”

Mika grabbed her shoulders dramatically.

“Yukari, this is the most exciting thing that has happened in weeks.”

“Didn’t we have sports festivals last week?”

“That doesn’t count.”

They reached the classroom just as the bell rang.

Students hurried to their seats.

Yukari sat near the window, her usual spot.

It was the best place to watch the sky when classes become too overwhelming.

The teacher cleared his throat.

“Class before we begin today’s lesson, we have a new student joining us.”

The classroom was immediately filled with whispers.

The door slid open.

A tall boy walked in, hands in his pockets, looking completely unimpressed by the attention.

His hair was slightly messy, like he had run his hands through it one too many times.

He gave a lazy half-wave.

“Ichiro Yamazaki,” he said. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

A few girls giggled. 

Yukari barely glanced up before looking back at her notebook.

Transfer students made people curious.

But curiosity required energy she didn’t have.

“Take the empty seat in the back,” the teacher said.

Yukari didn’t notice when Ichiro walked past her desk.

She didn’t notice when he barely glanced at her bag.

And she definitely didn’t notice the pale blue envelope slipping slightly out of the side pocket.

Classes passed slowly.

By lunchtime, the sky had turned brighter, and the wind had picked up outside.

Cherry blossom petals drifted through the open windows. 

Yukari sat under a tree in the courtyard with Mika, carefully unwrapping her lunch.

“You’re unusually quiet today,” Mika said.

“I’m always quiet.”

“True, but today you’re extra quiet.”

Yukari shrugged.

The wind rustled through the branches above them. 

Petals scattered across the grass.

A sudden gust swept across the courtyard.

It caught Yukari’s bag before she could react.

The zipper slid open slightly.

Something light and pale lifted into the air.

For a moment, Yukari didn’t understand what she was looking at.

Then her stomach dropped.

The envelope.

Her letters.

“Wait—!”

The wind carried them across the courtyard like tiny paper birds. 

Yukari jumped to her feet, chasing them.

Students stared as she ran past.

One letter landed near a bench.

Another near the vending machines.

She grabbed them quickly, heart racing.

But one was missing. 

Just one.

She scanned the courtyard anxiously.

Then she saw him.

Ichiro Yamazaki stood near the gate, holding a folded piece of paper between his fingers. 

Her letter.

He was reading it.

Yukari’s heart stopped.

She ran toward him.

“Wait!”

Ichiro looked up just as she reached him.

For a brief moment, their eyes met.

His expression shifted from casual curiosity to something softer.

“Is it yours?”he asked.

Yukari tried to grab it, but he held it slightly out of reach.

“What’s the rush?”he said with a small grin.

Her face burned.

“Please give it back,”

He glanced at the paper again.

“I only read the first line.”

That was already too much.

“What does it say again…?”

He pretended to think.

Yukari felt like she might actually collapse.

Then he read it out aloud. 

“If you knew the real me, maybe you wouldn’t walk away.”

Silence hung between them.

Ichiro looked at her more carefully this time.

Like he was seeing her properly for the first time.

Yukari wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

“Give it back,” she whispered.

Instead, Ichiro folded the letter neatly and slipped it into his pocket.

“I think I’ll hold on to this.”

Her eyes widened.

“What?”

“You can have it back,” he said casually.

“Eventually.”

“That’s not yours!”

“True.”

He smiled slightly.

“But now I’m curious.”

“About what?”

He leaned closer.

“About the girl who writes things like that.

Yukari stared at him in disbelief.

Ichiro shrugged.

“Don’t worry.l’ll return it.”

“Then give it back now!”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head thoughtfully.

“How about this instead…”

“What?”

“Talk to me.”

Yukari blinked.

“What?”

“You want the letter back,” Ichiro said. “So talk to me.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does.”

He started walking towards the school building.

Yukari followed instinctively.

“Wait!”

Ichiro glanced over his shoulder.

“See, you’re already talking.”

He smiled again—lazy, slightly mischievous.

And for the first time since transferring schools that morning, lchiro Yamazaki looked genuinely interested in something.

Unfortunately for Yukari…

The something was her.