The last bell of the day rang, echoing through the corridors like a final sigh of relief. Classrooms began to stir with the familiar rustle of notebooks closing, desks scraping, and students stretching away their boredom. Izumi Ichikawa, as always, stayed back in his seat, letting the wave of energy rush past him.
His notebook remained open on the desk. Doodles of cherry blossoms surrounded his unfinished math equations. He stared at them for a while. They reminded him of Ayato Yamada.
He had stopped pretending that he wasn't thinking about her every other hour.
Their walks home, their quiet talks under the sakura tree, the accidental touches—it had all started to feel like something out of a romance anime. But unlike anime, there was no dramatic confession. Just a calm comfort in her presence.
"Izumi-kun," a soft voice broke into his thoughts.
Speak of the cherry blossom herself.
Ayato stood by his desk, clutching her bag in both hands. Her white hair was loosely tied today, and a thin strand fell near her bright green eyes. She looked hesitant, which was unusual.
"Want to walk home together again?" she asked, but there was a slight nervousness in her tone. Her gaze flicked toward the window, where clouds had begun to cover the sky.
Izumi blinked. "Sure. But it might rain."
"I brought my umbrella," she said quickly. "We can share if it does."
He didn't have the heart to refuse—not that he wanted to.
They walked down the corridor in silence. Unlike the usual buzz of afterschool chatter, today had a strange quietness to it. As if the weather had whispered to everyone to keep their voices down.
Izumi glanced sideways. "You okay?"
Ayato smiled. "Just... thinking."
"About?"
She paused, then laughed. "About how many stories begin when it rains."
Izumi gave a small chuckle. "You mean romantic ones?"
"Maybe. Or the ones where something changes."
They stepped out the school gate, and the wind greeted them with a cold rush. Tiny droplets had started to fall, gently tapping their uniforms. Ayato opened her umbrella without a word and moved closer to him.
Izumi stiffened for a second but walked beside her. Their shoulders brushed. The soft patter of rain on the umbrella formed a fragile cocoon around them.
"Izumi-kun," Ayato spoke again, "Do you believe in timing?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Like... when people are meant to meet?"
"Mm-hmm."
"I guess?" He looked up at the grey sky. "Maybe it's just coincidence."
She didn't respond for a moment. Then, with a voice almost drowned by the rain, she said, "I think we were meant to meet."
Izumi's heart skipped. He looked at her quickly, but Ayato kept walking, as if she hadn't said something that just spun his world slightly off-axis.
"Me too," he said before he could stop himself.
Ayato smiled wider—but said nothing more.
---
They arrived at the park before the fork in the road. Their usual parting spot.
The rain had made the cherry blossom petals stick to the stone benches and the wet grass. It was quiet, with no one around. Just them, under a shared umbrella, the scent of earth and flowers thick in the air.
Izumi stopped. "Want to sit for a bit?"
She nodded, and they sat close together on the damp bench, umbrella still overhead. Ayato looked up at the tree.
"The petals are almost gone," she whispered.
"Yeah."
"It's like they're saying goodbye."
Izumi watched the petals fall. "Or maybe... see you next year."
Ayato turned her eyes to him. "You're more poetic than I thought."
He blushed slightly. "Maybe your influence."
She giggled, then turned serious again. "Izumi-kun... can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
She fiddled with her fingers. "Have you ever... liked someone before?"
Izumi froze. The question hung in the air like the raindrops on the edge of the umbrella.
"I... I don't know," he said honestly. "I've always avoided people. Never really thought about it."
Ayato nodded slowly. "What if someone... liked you?"
He blinked. "What?"
She laughed quickly, covering it up. "Nothing! Just a hypothetical."
His heart thudded louder. "I... guess I'd be surprised."
"Would you... want to know who?"
He looked at her now, really looked at her. The way her eyes shimmered in the rain. The way she held the umbrella steady for both of them. The way her words had started trembling slightly.
He opened his mouth—but no words came.
"Izumi-kun," she said softly, "Would you walk home with me tomorrow, too?"
He nodded, just as softly. "Yeah."
---
As they stood up and walked away from the bench, something unspoken lingered in the air between them. The kind of unspoken that carries more weight than anything said aloud.
A cherry blossom petal landed gently on Ayato's shoulder. Izumi reached out and brushed it away.
For a moment, their eyes met. And in that moment, something had undeniably changed.
Even if neither of them said it out loud yet.
The next day arrived with a surprising warmth in the air. The rain had passed, but the sky still held a soft haze, as if reluctant to let go of yesterday's melancholy.
Izumi Ichikawa stood at the school gate, scanning the crowd of students as they filed in. His fingers played nervously with the strap of his bag. He wasn't waiting for anyone. At least, that's what he told himself.
But when Ayato Yamada stepped into view, his heartbeat betrayed him.
She walked with the same gentle steps, white hair fluttering slightly in the breeze. Her school uniform was neat as ever, and she carried the same sky-blue umbrella from yesterday, even though the sky was dry.
"Izumi-kun!" she called out, smiling when she saw him.
He gave a small wave, unsure why he had suddenly forgotten how to greet a person. When she reached him, she tilted her head curiously.
"You're early today."
"I guess…" he looked away. "Didn't sleep much."
"Thinking about something?" she teased.
He gave her a look. "You're not subtle."
She giggled and leaned slightly closer. "I don't want to be."
That statement hit deeper than it should've. Izumi looked at her closely. There was a different shine in her eyes today—like she had made up her mind about something.
They walked into the building together, chatting softly. It had become natural, this routine. They still attracted stares. People whispered, as high school students do. Some were curious, others disapproving, and a few even jealous. But Ayato never seemed bothered.
Izumi, on the other hand, felt like he was walking on a tightrope strung between reality and a daydream.
During lunch, Ayato found him again, this time in the library.
"Skipping lunch?" she asked, sliding into the seat across from him.
"Just...wanted it quiet."
Ayato reached into her bag and pulled out two melonpans. "Too bad. I brought snacks."
"You just invited yourself, didn't you?"
She smiled. "Absolutely."
They ate in silence for a while, the soft rustle of turning pages and distant whispers around them. Izumi watched her from across the table. The way she tore small bites off the bread. The way she tilted her head when reading. The way she occasionally caught him staring and smiled without saying anything.
After a few minutes, Ayato put down her melonpan and sighed.
"Hey, Izumi-kun…"
"Yeah?"
"There's something I want to tell you."
He felt his stomach twist. His fingers tensed slightly around the edge of the table.
"But not now," she added quickly. "After school. Meet me at the same place as yesterday?"
He blinked. "The park?"
She nodded, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "I'll wait there."
With that, she stood and left, her skirt swaying gently behind her. Izumi sat frozen, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind like a traffic jam with no signals.
What did she want to tell him?
Was it...was it what he was afraid to hope for?
---
The final bell rang again, echoing like déjà vu. This time, Izumi didn't wait. He packed quickly and left the classroom before most of the students had even stretched. His heart pounded louder with each step, and when he reached the park, Ayato was already there.
She stood under the cherry blossom tree, the one with fewer petals now. Her sky-blue umbrella was open—not because it was raining, but as if to recreate the moment from yesterday.
Izumi approached, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "You didn't need the umbrella today."
She smiled. "Maybe I wanted to relive a moment."
He paused, unsure how to respond.
Ayato turned to him, and for a moment, her usual playful smile vanished. "Izumi-kun. I've been meaning to say this for a while."
He swallowed. "Okay."
"I like you."
The words weren't sudden. They didn't shock him like lightning. They landed softly, like a petal on a quiet pond. But their impact rippled deep.
"I've liked you for a while now," she continued. "Since the first time we talked properly. When you dropped your manga in class and apologized like you'd committed a crime."
He flushed. "That's...not romantic."
"It was to me," she said. "You were kind. And quiet. And different."
She looked down, then up again. "And I wanted to be someone you'd talk to."
Izumi's world had turned silent, not because he didn't hear her—but because he didn't know what to say.
Ayato took a step closer. "You don't have to answer now. I just wanted you to know. I've never confessed to anyone before."
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She looked away quickly. "It's okay. I'll—"
"I like you too."
Her eyes widened.
He took a breath, then continued, "I didn't realize it at first. I thought... maybe it was just comfort. Or the way you always talked to me without expecting me to be someone else."
He looked at her, blue eyes meeting green.
"But the truth is... I started looking forward to school. Because of you."
Ayato's lips parted. A second later, she smiled—a smile brighter than any cherry blossom.
Then, without a word, she stepped under the umbrella with him again. The sun filtered through the thin blue fabric, casting a soft glow on their faces.
And for a while, they stood there, under an umbrella that didn't need to protect them from rain anymore—but now sheltered something far more delicate.
Their feelings.
The sun had dipped lower in the sky, painting the park with golden light that filtered through the thinning cherry blossoms. Beneath the tree, the two of them remained standing, their silhouettes slightly blurred by the soft breeze.
Ayato's sky-blue umbrella was now closed, loosely resting in her hand. She looked up at Izumi with a mix of disbelief and hope, like she was still trying to confirm that what had just happened wasn't a scene from one of the shoujo mangas she often read.
"Izumi-kun," she whispered again, "Did you really mean that?"
Izumi nodded slowly. "I did. It just took me... longer to realize it."
Ayato's eyes shimmered, not from tears, but from the kind of joy that made the world feel too bright. She laughed softly—a breathy, musical sound—and stepped back from the umbrella's shadow.
"I'm glad," she said, her voice light. "Even if you realized it late, I'm happy I waited."
Izumi looked at her, his cheeks still slightly flushed. "Honestly, I was scared."
"Of what?"
"That someone like you could actually like someone like me," he admitted.
Ayato tilted her head. "Someone like you?"
"I'm not popular. I'm quiet, boring, and I spend most of my time buried in manga and anime. I've never talked much to anyone, and... sometimes I feel like a background character in everyone else's story."
She took a few soft steps forward. "Then I'll make you the main character in mine."
The wind picked up just enough to scatter some petals around them. A few brushed past Izumi's cheek, one landing in Ayato's white hair like it had chosen her on purpose. She didn't brush it away.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. They just stood there—two students whose ordinary worlds had quietly collided.
Then Ayato broke the silence. "So... does this mean we're dating?"
Izumi stiffened. "Uh—W-What?"
Ayato stifled a giggle behind her hand. "I'm kidding! Kind of. You're so easy to tease."
Izumi looked away, ears red. "You shouldn't do that when I'm still adjusting to... all this."
"You're right," she said, smiling. "We'll take it slow. Let's just keep spending time together."
He nodded. "That... that sounds good."
Ayato checked the time and her expression changed. "I should get going. My grandmother will worry."
Izumi offered, "I'll walk you home."
She blinked. "Really?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "If that's okay with you."
Her smile could've lit up the whole park. "I'd love that."
---
They walked side by side, keeping just enough distance that their shoulders wouldn't accidentally touch. But not too far. Just close enough that Izumi could hear her humming softly and catch the subtle scent of her shampoo every time the wind shifted.
As they crossed the street, she turned to him and asked, "Do you think we'll be this close in a year?"
He looked up at the pale blue sky, thinking. "I don't know. Maybe we'll be closer. Maybe... we'll be in the same college."
She raised an eyebrow. "You want to go to the same college as me?"
"I didn't say that," he muttered quickly, face burning.
"Too late. I'm writing that in my journal."
"You have a journal?"
"Nope!" She laughed. "But I'm starting one tonight."
He smiled despite himself. This was Ayato. The strange, beautiful, slightly chaotic girl who had barged into his quiet life and made it bloom.
When they finally reached her home, a small traditional house with potted plants lining the entrance, she turned to him.
"Izumi-kun. Thanks for walking with me."
He nodded. "I... enjoyed it."
"Me too."
There was a pause.
She leaned forward and, before he could move or react, lightly tapped her forehead against his.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she whispered.
And just like that, she turned and skipped up the steps, waving before disappearing inside.
Izumi stood there for a moment, stunned.
He touched his forehead. "What... was that?"
He didn't know. But whatever it was, it made him feel like he was no longer a background character in someone else's story.
He had become the lead in a story that was just beginning.
---
Scene Cut: Later That Night
Izumi sat at his desk, the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminating the manga that lay forgotten beside his elbow. He wasn't reading. He was just staring ahead, thinking.
His phone buzzed. A message from Ayato.
Ayato:
> Today was fun.
P.S. — You looked really cute when you got flustered. 😘
Izumi groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Why is she like this…"
But his heart was light.
Outside, the wind rustled the cherry blossoms again. Maybe tomorrow, a few more would fall. Maybe tomorrow would bring more teasing, more lunches, more quiet moments under the sun.
And maybe—just maybe—more days like today.