The snow had stopped sometime during the night, leaving the world draped in white stillness. Icicles hung from rooftops, and the streets glistened beneath a pale morning sun. Hana walked to school with her scarf pulled high, breath puffing out in delicate clouds.
Her fingers brushed against her phone in her coat pocket — the one she almost used last night to tell Ren everything.
But she hadn't.
Not yet.
Inside her classroom, the heater was already humming. Students talked about the holidays, break plans, and new year resolutions. Hana slid into her seat, resting her chin on her arms, pretending to listen to the noise around her.
Then, quietly — like always — Ren sat beside her.
He didn't say anything at first. Just unpacked his books, adjusted his chair, and glanced at her briefly.
Their eyes met.
A beat passed.
"…Morning," she whispered.
Ren smiled softly. "Morning."
They didn't say more — but something in the air had shifted. The silence wasn't tense anymore. It was warm. Resting. Waiting.
---
During lunch, Naoki had to leave early for another hospital visit. Hana watched him go with a nod, then returned to her quiet spot in the courtyard. Ren showed up a few minutes later, hands stuffed in his coat pockets, hair dusted with snow.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
She shook her head, scooting over.
They sat there for a while, side by side on the bench, watching the breath of the school rise like steam from the heating vents.
Finally, she spoke. "You're braver than me."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "How?"
"You said it. What you felt. Even if you didn't know how I'd respond."
He was quiet for a second, then said, "I didn't need to know. I just… didn't want to keep it in anymore."
Hana turned her head slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye.
"I tried to text you last night," she admitted. "To say I liked you too."
His expression shifted — eyes flickering with something soft and wide.
"But I didn't," she added quickly. "I got scared."
Ren smiled gently. "That's okay."
They sat again in silence, but this time Hana leaned just slightly against his arm. Not quite touching. But close.
"I still don't know how to do this," she said.
"You don't have to," he replied. "We'll figure it out."
A small smile curled at her lips.
---
After school, they walked home together for the first time. The snow crunched under their shoes as they passed half-buried bicycles and trees with frozen branches.
Ren paused in front of the small bakery near the station.
"Wait here," he said, and ducked inside.
Hana stood blinking in the cold until he returned, holding out a small paper bag.
"What's this?"
He looked away, embarrassed. "They had those fox-shaped cookies. Thought of you."
She laughed — an actual laugh, quiet and real — and took the bag.
"Thanks."
They reached her street a few minutes later.
"This is me," Hana said, stopping in front of her gate.
Ren nodded. "Okay."
A pause.
Then Hana turned slightly, pulling something from her pocket — a folded piece of paper.
"I, uh… drew something," she said, holding it out. "It's not finished. But it's… us. On the bench."
Ren took it carefully, like it might melt in his hands.
He opened it slowly. It was sketched in soft lines — the two of them sitting quietly, snow falling around them. There was space between them in the drawing, but just like earlier… not much.
"It's really good," he said.
She blushed. "Thanks."
Ren glanced up at her, hesitant. "Can I… see you again tomorrow?"
Hana nodded.
"Yeah. I'd like that."
---
That night, in her room, Hana opened her sketchbook again. She finished the drawing — just a small touch — adding a little detail to the sky. A single snowflake, caught between them.
On the bottom corner, she wrote:
> "Even snow needs time to settle."
She looked at her phone again — at Ren's message from earlier that day.
> Thanks for the drawing. Let's talk tomorrow again, okay?
She typed a reply.
> Okay. One snowflake at a time.
This time, she hit send.