A Quiet Understanding

Haruto's POV

We strolled slowly through the quiet hospital grounds, our breath misting in the cold air. Silence filled the spaces between us, but it didn’t feel awkward. It was a shared silence, one that understood the weight of the night and respected it.

After a while, I spoke, my voice low. “Did the doctors say something about your grandma's condition right now?”

Her gaze fixed on the ground. “The doctors said it was just exhaustion, but they’re keeping her for observation.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “That’s good to hear. I was... worried.”

She glanced at me, her expression softening. “Worried? You never seemed like the worrying type.”

I gave a half-smile. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

We got up and walked a bit further, stopping near a small bench under a streetlamp. I motioned for her to sit, and she did, clutching her drink to her chest. I joined her, the silence settling over us once more.

“Thank you, Haruto,” she said quietly after a moment. “For everything. It means a lot.”

I scratched the back of his head, a bit awkwardly. “You don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, right? It’s what friends do.”

She looked at me then, her gaze searching. “Sometimes... I feel like you’re the only one who really understands.”

The vulnerability in her voice caught me off guard, and I looked away, trying to collect my thoughts. “I think... I think we just get each other, you know? I mean, we both know what it’s like to feel... alone sometimes.”

Hinata nodded, her eyes glistening. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

We sat there, side by side, the quiet night wrapping around us like a blanket. A soft breeze stirred, and she shivered slightly. I noticed and shrugged off my jacket, draping it over her shoulders without a word.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pulling it around her tighter.

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Don’t mention it.”

For a while, we simply sat there, lost in our own thoughts. The quiet moments stretched on, and I found myself stealing glances at her. There was something about the way she looked, sitting there in the dim light, that made my heart skip a beat. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

After a while, Hinata broke the silence. “Do you ever think about the future, Haruto?”

The question caught me off guard, and I frowned, considering it. “Sometimes, I guess. But it’s... I don’t know, it feels so far away. Like, right now, I’m just trying to get through each day.”

She nodded, a hint of sadness in her gaze. “Me too. But sometimes, I wonder what things will be like. If we’ll still be... close.”

I glanced at her, something stirring in my chest. “Of course we will. I mean, why wouldn’t we be?”

She shrugged, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I don’t know. People change, I guess.”

I frowned, my expression serious. “Not us. We’re... we’re different.”

She looked up at me, and for a moment, our eyes met. Something passed between us, an unspoken understanding, a promise that neither of us dared to say out loud.

After a while, I cleared my throat, looking away. “We should probably head back. It’s getting late.”

Hinata nodded, standing up and handing me my jacket. “Yeah. Thank you, Haruto. For everything.”

I took the jacket, my fingers brushing against hers for just a moment. “Anytime.”

We walked back to the hospital entrance in silence, the weight of our conversation lingering in the air. As we reached the door, she turned to me, a soft smile on her lips.

“Goodnight, Haruto.”

“Goodnight, Hinata.”

I watched her go, a strange ache in my chest as I stood there, watching her disappear into the building.

As the door shut behind Hinata, I lingered outside, hands stuffed into my pockets. The chilly night air nipped at my cheeks, and I watched my breath form tiny clouds in the silence. It felt strange, leaving her behind. I took a few steps, but something tugged at me, like an invisible thread that hadn’t been cut.

My thoughts spun, each one circling back to her. Hinata’s words, her expression, the vulnerability she’d shared with me. I hadn’t expected to see that side of her tonight, and somehow, it made me feel closer to her. She had this way of surprising me, of showing parts of herself that left me reeling, wondering if I'd ever known her fully.

A flicker of warmth grew in my chest as I replayed her words. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re the only one who really understands.” I took a deep breath, letting that feeling settle, trying to make sense of it. I couldn’t deny how much I cared about her, more than I'd ever admitted to myself, let alone to her. And in that moment, I realized I'd do anything to keep being that person for her, the one she could lean on.

Turning back to the empty street, I took my time walking home. I felt lighter, as if a part of me had changed, just as Hinata had said. We were different now, somehow closer. I didn’t know what that meant for us, and I didn’t have to. For tonight, it was enough.

***

The next morning, I found myself checking my phone more than I should. Between classes, after lunch, during breaks, each time with a quiet hope of seeing a message from Hinata. Yet, there was nothing, just the usual notifications and class updates that meant nothing to me right now.

It wasn’t until after school that I felt a buzz in my pocket. I nearly dropped my bag in my rush to check, and my heartbeat quickened when I saw her name. Hinata: “Thank you for last night, Haruto. It... meant a lot to me.”

I smiled, feeling an odd sense of relief wash over me. After a moment’s thought, I typed back, “Anytime. I’m glad I could be there for you.”

I paused, then added, “And hey, if you ever need a break from choir practice, let me know. I’ll bring you another tea.”

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again. Her reply was simple, yet it warmed me more than I expected: “I’d like that.”

With a quiet laugh, I slid my phone back into my pocket. I hadn’t expected to feel this way. But whatever it was, I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be closer to her, like I'd found something I hadn’t even known I was missing.

As I made my way home, a light snow began to fall, dusting the street in a thin layer of white. It reminded me of the night before, of the way she’d looked under the streetlamp, her shoulders draped in my jacket. For now, that memory would be enough to carry me through.

“It's a week apart… from Valentine's Day.”

To be continued…