The warm glow of the midmorning sun filtered through the classroom windows, painting golden rectangles across the polished wooden floor. The late autumn air carried a crisp edge, and though the semester's midpoint had settled in, a sense of anticipation buzzed quietly beneath the surface.
Lily sat at her desk, her chin resting on her palm as she stared out the window. Her thoughts were scattered — caught somewhere between the art room, Aki's gaze after that unexpected confession, and the weight of memories she hadn't yet shared.
Then, a gentle rapping sound — the familiar knock of their homeroom teacher, Ms. Ishikawa, tapping the edge of her clipboard with two fingers.
"Before I forget," she said, voice light but commanding, "we'll be taking a class field trip next week. Destination: Hokkaido."
A wave of murmurs instantly spread through the room.
"Hokkaido?" one student whispered. "That's so far."
"Snow this early?"
"No way we're staying overnight, right?"
Lily straightened up slightly, caught off guard. Hokkaido wasn't just far — it was where the winters came early, and the scenery turned white even before the rest of the country began to chill. She glanced toward Mira instinctively, but her best friend was already grinning from ear to ear.
"Field trip details will be handed out later," Ms. Ishikawa continued. "We'll be visiting some historical landmarks, staying two nights in a small hot spring inn, and yes — snow is expected, so pack accordingly. You'll need your guardian's permission form signed by Friday."
That brought Lily back to reality.
Uncle Masaru.
He had taken care of everything since… since Ethan disappeared. He wasn't always expressive, but he was reliable. She knew he'd sign it — maybe even remind her to bring warm socks before she left.
After class, students buzzed with energy. Groups had already started forming — some friends making plans to share rooms, others chatting about what snacks to bring on the bullet train. But amid the laughter and light chatter, something went unnoticed by most — something quieter, and far less kind.
Aki stood beside his desk, tucking his books into his bag with quiet focus. He wore that same distant look — the one he always did when tuning out the world. But a few whispers nearby were impossible to miss.
"Tch, there he is. Thinks he's special now."
"Heard Lily rejected someone… Wonder why she always hangs around him."
"Maybe he's blackmailing her or something."
"He's always so quiet — like a creep."
Aki's hands didn't falter. He kept his expression blank, his posture calm. The words were needles, sure — but they didn't draw blood. Not anymore. He had heard worse. He had lived through worse.
He slung his bag over one shoulder, ignoring the last boy's comment entirely. He had no intention of dragging Lily into his problems — or anyone else, for that matter. If they were curious or jealous, let them be. It didn't matter. Not really.
Behind them, Mira and Riku were still at Lily's side, talking about what kind of onigiri they should bring for the trip. They didn't hear any of it. And Lily? She was staring at the permission slip in her hands, biting her lip thoughtfully.
When Aki walked past them, none of them noticed the way he lowered his eyes slightly — as if bracing against something invisible.
Later that evening, Lily returned to Uncle Masaru's house. The familiar creak of the hallway floorboards and the faint aroma of green tea gave the small home a warmth she hadn't realized she missed. Masaru, ever the quiet presence, handed her a mug of hot barley tea without saying a word.
"Thanks," she murmured, sitting at the low table with the permission slip in her hand.
He glanced at it briefly, then retrieved a pen from the kitchen counter. "Hokkaido, huh?" he said, finally speaking. His voice was rough, not from coldness, but from being a man who had simply grown used to silence.
"Yeah," Lily replied. "Two nights. Hot spring, temples, snow."
He signed without hesitation.
"Bring extra socks," he said without looking up.
Lily smiled faintly. "I knew you'd say that."
Back at Aki's small apartment, he sat on the edge of his bed, sketchbook open but untouched. The echoes of the classroom whispers clung to his memory like a fog. Not because they hurt — but because he feared they might reach Lily. That they might reach her heart, which had already carried more weight than most could bear.
He thought about that moment behind the door. The confession. The way she turned the boy down, gently but firmly.
And still… she hadn't pushed Aki away. Not even once.
He didn't need recognition or praise. But her kindness — the way she made space for him even when she didn't know the full story — that was something he wanted to protect. Even if from afar.
He flipped the page and began to sketch. This time, it wasn't just Lily's face. It was Hokkaido's imagined snow, her scarf fluttering in the wind, and a quiet strength in her eyes.
The next day at school, Lily walked in with a soft hum under her breath. Her permission slip was tucked safely in her bag. Mira waved her over with an excited bounce in her step.
"I can't wait for the onsen!" she beamed. "We should bring matching pajamas!"
Lily laughed. "I don't even own matching socks."
"Then it's time you do!" Mira insisted.
Riku approached a moment later, carrying his usual sports bag and flashing his typical half-grin. "Morning, Lily. You gonna survive the snow, or should we carry you around like a queen?"
"Tempting," she replied, raising a brow.
As the three of them talked, Aki entered the room quietly. No one noticed the brief side-glance he gave Lily, or how he looked just a little more tired than usual. But when she turned her head and caught his gaze — offering a soft, genuine smile — something in his chest lightened.
And for now, that was enough.