"Falling in love with someone you never intended to love…" Yurina's voice drifted softly into the quiet night, "is the most beautiful kind of love."
She watched the name etched into the damp ground, her gaze distant yet knowing.
"There's no forcing it. No trying to fix them or save them. It just… happens. Naturally. A raw connection that forms on its own." She exhaled faintly. "If you find something like that… don't you think it's worth holding onto? Before it slips away?"
Her eyes flickered back to him.
"You keep writing his name," she added gently. "You must really miss him, huh?"
Shiharu didn't answer.
"I get that feeling," she continued anyway, her voice quieter now. "I know it too well. Being with someone… and not realizing how much they meant to you until they're gone. Not understanding how their presence—something you thought was ordinary—was actually everything."
A small pause.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
The night seemed to listen with them.
"The worst part is… they leave when you least expect it. Sometimes without a goodbye." Her fingers curled slightly at her side. "And sometimes… when they do say goodbye. You end up wishing they hadn't at all."
Her gaze softened, though something painful lingered beneath it.
"Imagine a little girl refusing to hug her dad because she's upset… thinking there'll always be another chance. He leaves for work, says goodbye, kisses her forehead…" Yurina's voice thinned. "And that's the last time she ever sees him."
Silence followed.
"I think…" she whispered, "we should live in a way that—even if everything ends tomorrow—we wouldn't regret anything. Hold onto people while they're still here… because once they're gone…"
Her voice trailed off.
"…you don't always get them back."
—
The rain gradually faded, leaving behind only the soft chill of the night. The world felt still, wrapped in dim lights and quiet air.
Shiharu's voice finally broke through, low and hesitant.
"Did you… lose someone?"
Yurina didn't respond immediately.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
"…Yes. My mom."
Shiharu's gaze remained fixed on the ground.
"How lucky," he murmured bitterly. "My own mother never saw me as her son. To her… I'm just empty space. Something that shouldn't even be there."
Yurina glanced at him—and for a brief second, she saw herself reflected in his pain.
She looked away just as quickly.
"Mr. Hotaru… isn't your real father?"
Shiharu shook his head.
"If my real father were like him…" he said quietly, "maybe my life would've been easier."
His fingers clenched slightly.
"Living in a house where you're the black sheep… it's worse than death. Death is peaceful. But there…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "It's hell."
Yurina's hair slipped forward, partially hiding her expression as she watched him.
"…And yet you made it out," she said softly. "You escaped."
There was no pity in her tone—only quiet acknowledgment.
"You endured it. That means something. It wasn't easy… but you were strong enough to survive it."
She turned her gaze forward, toward the empty darkness ahead.
"You only get one life," she added. "So… do what you want. Feel what you want. Hold onto what matters—before it's too late."
The cold air brushed against them, gentle but unforgiving.
After a long pause, Shiharu spoke again, almost to himself.
"I think…" he murmured faintly, "I'm starting to hate winter."
______
"You can't bake a cake? Seriously?" Hoshiyuki's voice carried a playful disbelief, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Then get the ingredients. I'll teach you. Practice makes perfect, you know."
—
"If I had to compare you to an animal…" he tilted his head, pretending to think, before breaking into a soft laugh. "You'd be a black feral cat. Come on. We promised to go to the gardens today."
—
"If you don't let me carry those for you…" his tone dipped, calm but firm, "you're not going anywhere."
—
"There's nothing wrong with falling in love with someone of the same gender." His voice softened, but his gaze remained steady. "It's not something you choose. The heart does that on its own."
—
"I've realized something," Hoshiyuki said thoughtfully, arms crossed as if he had come to a profound conclusion. "You don't like mushrooms."
He paused dramatically.
"So from today, I don't like them either. They taste… bleh."
He stuck his tongue out in exaggerated disgust.
Shiharu raised a brow, clearly amused. "You've never even tried them, have you?"
"I haven't," Hoshiyuki admitted without shame. "But it doesn't matter. If you hate them… then I hate them too."
—
"You're the most beautiful soul I've ever met," he murmured one quiet evening, his voice stripped of all teasing. "Don't ever forget that. No matter what anyone else says."
—
"See? I knew you could do it." A small, proud smile curved on his lips. "It doesn't matter if you fail. Just keep trying. Little by little… you'll get better."
—
"I brought you water," he said casually letting the cup of water float its way toward Shiharu. Then, with a faint smirk—"I had a feeling you'd be thirsty."
—
"I'll make sure you live happily this time."
—
"Shiharu—"
Yurina's voice cut gently through the haze of his memories, pulling him back to the present.
He blinked, the echoes of Hoshiyuki's words fading into the quiet night.
Yurina hesitated for a brief second before speaking again, her usual confidence softened into something uncertain.
"What do you think about… being my first friend?" she asked, looking away slightly. "It's fine if you don't want to. I'm not—"
"It doesn't sound bad."
Shiharu's reply came before she could finish.
Her expression shifted—surprise melting into something warm, something bright. A genuine smile spread across her face as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"…Then it's settled."
She stood, brushing off her skirt before glancing down at him.
"Now, come on," she said, her tone lighter again. "I don't want my first friend catching a cold."