Chapter 4: The Wind Between Two Hearts

The following Monday, the world didn't look different—but Himari felt like she had stepped into a new story.

The sakura petals still fell like soft snow over the school courtyard. The classroom windows still glowed with late afternoon sun. Ren still tossed his bag dramatically onto the desk beside hers and Ayaka still whispered teasing comments that made Himari's ears burn.

But inside her chest, something had changed.

She had walked home with Haruki Aizawa.

He hadn't held her hand. He hadn't kissed her. They'd simply talked—about the sky, about drawing, about how long he had been writing those letters. But every step felt like a promise.

That evening had left her floating.

"Himari-chan," Ayaka said, snapping her back to the present. "You've been smiling at your math book for the last five minutes."

"Oh—have I?" Himari blinked.

Ayaka grinned. "Are you finally going to tell me who H is?"

She hesitated. Then, with a gentle smile, she said, "Not yet."

Ayaka groaned dramatically. "You're killing me."

---

After school, Himari found herself walking toward the art room. She hadn't planned to. Her steps just… wandered. Her fingers curled gently around the edge of her sketchbook, pressed close to her chest.

The art room was on the third floor, tucked away like a secret. She peeked inside—and there he was.

Haruki.

He was sitting near the window, sketching quietly, earphones in. He didn't notice her at first, but the afternoon sun lit up his silver hair like threads of snow touched by gold. Himari knocked gently.

He looked up—and smiled. A soft, quiet smile, like a secret only they shared.

"I thought you'd be here," she said.

"I hoped you would be," he replied.

She walked in slowly and took the seat beside him. For a moment, they sat in peaceful silence. The only sound was the soft rustle of paper and pencil, the hum of distant footsteps in the hallway, and the quiet flutter in their hearts.

"I brought this," she said, opening her sketchbook. "I tried drawing what the lanterns looked like that night."

Haruki leaned in, his eyes scanning the page. "It's beautiful."

"It's not finished."

He turned the page and paused.

There, in faint pencil lines, was a sketch of him—under the sakura tree, the lanterns glowing around him.

His breath caught.

"I wanted to remember you," she whispered.

Haruki closed his notebook and turned to her, his eyes full of something new—something warm and trembling.

"I want to be someone you can trust, Himari. I want to walk beside you, not just watch from afar."

"You already are," she replied. "You've been there this whole time."

He reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't move away.

The sun dipped lower, casting orange hues across their faces. The window behind them framed the world like a painting. The petals continued to fall—soft, steady, eternal.

In that quiet moment, they weren't just Himari and Haruki.

They were two hearts meeting in the same breeze.