The sun dipped lower behind the hills of Shiomachi, casting the narrow streets in warm gold as Ren and Aoi walked side by side, their steps light, but their hearts heavier than they cared to admit. The air smelled faintly of sea salt and the last of the cherry blossoms, the breeze gentle, playful, tugging at their hair and sleeves.
They hadn't planned to walk together — it had simply happened, as natural as the setting sun. The road between school and home, so familiar, seemed different tonight.
Ren shifted the guitar case on his shoulder, sneaking glances at Aoi when he thought she wouldn't notice. Her hair, loose now from the day, caught the light of the streetlamps just flickering on. She seemed so at ease, yet he could feel her quiet nervousness, matching his own.
"It's… nice, walking like this," Ren said at last, the words sounding awkward to his ears.
Aoi gave a small laugh, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Yeah. It is." She glanced up at him, then quickly away, cheeks tinged pink.
They passed the little taiyaki shop on the corner. The sweet smell of red bean paste and crisp batter floated out, mingling with the evening air. Old Mr. Nishida stood outside, fanning himself. His eyes lit up as he saw them.
"Ah! Ren! And who's this? A new friend, or something more?"
Aoi's face flushed deeper, and she looked down at her shoes. Ren rubbed the back of his neck, heart pounding faster.
"Just a friend, Mr. Nishida," he mumbled, wishing the ground would swallow him.
The old man chuckled, eyes twinkling with good humor. "Ah, young folks. Enjoy the evening, then!"
They quickened their pace, leaving the shop behind, but the warmth of the moment stayed with them.
The street curved gently, and the sea came into view — wide and endless, painted in deep blues and streaks of orange and pink. A small fishing boat bobbed on the water, its lanterns just starting to glow as the first stars appeared. The sound of waves blended with the rustling trees and the soft hum of the town settling for the night.
Aoi slowed, gaze drawn to the horizon. "It's beautiful," she said softly, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.
Ren watched her profile, the way the wind played with the loose strands of her hair, the quiet wonder in her eyes.
"Yeah," he agreed, though his gaze never left her.
They walked on in silence for a time, footsteps in rhythm, until the road split at a small neighborhood shrine. The red torii gate stood like a guardian, its wood smooth and worn from generations of hands. Prayer plaques swayed gently in the breeze, carved with hopes and wishes — for success, for love, for courage.
Aoi paused, drawn to them. Her fingers hovered over one, tracing the words without touching: May she notice me this spring.
Something in her chest tightened, though she didn't know why.
Ren watched her quietly, sensing the shift in her mood but unsure of what to say. The soft glow of the lanterns bathed them both in light and shadow, and for a heartbeat, the world felt very small — just the two of them, and the whispering wind.
Further down the road, a group of younger students hurried past, laughing and calling to one another.
"Is that Ren-senpai? Walking with a girl?" one teased, and the others giggled, their voices fading into the night.
Ren sighed, but Aoi's soft laugh beside him made him smile despite himself.
"You're popular," she said, teasing gently.
"Hardly," Ren replied, shaking his head. "They just like to cause trouble."
At last, they reached her street — quiet and lined with flowerpots, their blooms closed for the night. Aoi's house stood neat and welcoming, with its white walls and blue-tiled roof.
"This is me," she said, stopping at the gate.
Ren glanced up the hill toward his own home, the familiar sight of his mother's garden silhouetted against the darkening sky. He didn't want to leave, not yet.
"Thanks for walking with me," Aoi said, her voice soft but sincere.
"Anytime," Ren answered, meaning it more than he expected.
For a moment, neither moved, as if the world had stilled around them. Then Aoi smiled — small, warm, the kind that would stay with him.
"See you tomorrow," she said, stepping inside.
Ren stood there, watching the door close gently behind her. The breeze carried the faint scent of jasmine, and the distant sound of waves filled the quiet.
He turned at last, heading home, the weight of the guitar on his back light compared to the strange, fluttering feeling in his chest.