A Gentle Breeze and Unspoken Words
It was on one such afternoon that Hiyori found him again.
"Kozakura!" Her voice rang through the quiet bookstore, startling him from the pages of his book. He glanced up just in time to see her weaving through the narrow aisles, an eager glint in her eyes.
He sighed, closing the book but not marking his place. "You do realize you could walk in like a normal person, right?"
She grinned, completely unbothered. "Where's the fun in that? Anyway, I was looking for you."
"Should I be concerned?"
"No, but you should feel honored. I have an afternoon plan."
He studied her for a moment, noting the way she rocked on the balls of her feet, clearly impatient. "Do I get to know what it is, or am I just blindly following you again?"
"Blindly following sounds more fun, don't you think?" she said, already grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward the door before he could argue.
The streets of Hanamura were quieter than usual, the afternoon sun dipping lower and casting long shadows against the cobbled paths. Hiyori led him away from the main roads, taking a detour through one of the town's lesser-used trails. It was a hidden gem—an overgrown pathway lined with thick trees, their leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. The smell of summer grass mixed with the distant scent of river water, and the air felt noticeably cooler beneath the shade.
"I found this place a few days ago," she explained as they walked. "It's quiet, peaceful. A nice place to just… exist."
Kozakura glanced at her. "Didn't take you for the type who seeks out solitude."
She shrugged. "It's not about being alone. It's about finding somewhere that makes the world slow down."
He didn't say anything to that, but he understood. The town had its own quiet magic, and places like these—untouched, undisturbed—held something special.
They reached a small clearing where a single wooden bench sat beneath an old maple tree. The wood was worn from years of exposure, yet it still stood sturdy, as if waiting patiently for those who stumbled upon it. Hiyori plopped down first, stretching her arms above her head before looking at him expectantly. "Well? Sit."
He did as told, the breeze tugging gently at his sleeves. From this vantage point, they could see the rooftops of Hanamura in the distance, the sunlight bathing the town in a golden glow. The sight was oddly comforting, like a painting that had been brought to life.
Hiyori leaned back, staring up at the sky. "Sometimes I feel like I've always belonged here," she mused. "Like I was meant to find this town."
Kozakura turned to her, studying the way the light caught in her hair. "You're not thinking about leaving, are you?"
She blinked at him, startled by the sudden question. Then, she smiled—soft, knowing. "No. Not anymore."
A silence settled between them, but it wasn't empty. It was filled with unspoken thoughts, unacknowledged emotions, the kind that linger just beneath the surface. Kozakura found himself watching the way her fingers tapped lightly against the bench, as if following the rhythm of a song only she could hear.
"You always have plans," he murmured after a while. "Always pulling me along to wherever you want to go."
Hiyori tilted her head toward him, her expression unreadable. "Do you mind?"
He exhaled, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. "No."
And somehow, that single word felt heavier than it should have.
The breeze picked up, carrying the scent of distant rain. Hiyori sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. "You know, I think the best moments aren't the big ones. They're the small things. The ones that sneak up on you and make you realize something's changed."
Kozakura didn't respond right away. He just looked out at the town below, feeling the weight of her words settle into something he wasn't ready to name just yet.
But he could feel it.
Something between them was shifting, slow and steady—just like the seasons.
And for now, that was enough.
They sat there for a while longer, watching as the sky slowly shifted into the hues of an impending sunset. The golden glow bathed everything in soft amber light, making the world feel warmer despite the cool breeze rolling in. Hiyori stretched her legs out in front of her, absently nudging a small pebble with the tip of her sandal.
"Do you ever think about the future?" she asked suddenly, her voice softer now, as if she wasn't sure she wanted an answer.
Kozakura glanced at her. "Sometimes. Why?"
She shrugged, hugging her knees again. "I don't know. I guess… being here, I feel like time is moving slower. Like I don't have to rush into figuring things out."
He nodded, understanding what she meant. "Yeah. It's nice, not having everything planned out."
She turned to look at him then, her gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary before she smiled, small and knowing. "I'm glad you get it."
The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves above them. Hiyori shivered slightly, rubbing her arms as goosebumps prickled her skin. Without a word, Kozakura reached for his jacket—the same one she had borrowed before—and draped it over her shoulders once more.
Hiyori looked at him, surprised, before letting out a quiet laugh. "Again? You really don't learn."
"Or maybe you just need to start bringing a jacket," he countered, smirking.
She pulled it tighter around her, shaking her head. "Nope. I think I like this arrangement better."
Kozakura rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. He didn't reach to take it back this time.
They stayed there until the sun dipped below the rooftops, the town lights beginning to flicker on one by one. The stars began to peek out, dotting the sky in scattered specks of silver. The gentle hum of distant cicadas mixed with the occasional murmur of the town below, but up here, it felt like their own little world.
As they finally stood to leave, walking side by side through the quiet streets, Kozakura realized something—
Somehow, without either of them noticing, this had become one of those small moments Hiyori had talked about.
The ones that changed everything.
And maybe, just maybe, he was okay with that.