Chapter 35: Sharing Silence

The courtyard buzzed with early morning energy. Clouds hung low, mist softening the edges of buildings as students in winter coats clustered around the waiting buses. Laughter floated in the air, mingling with the sound of wheeled suitcases and parents giving last-minute advice. It was the morning of the long-awaited school trip to Hokkaido.

Lily stood quietly near the third bus, her scarf tucked up over her mouth, clutching a warm can of coffee. Her bag was already loaded, but her eyes kept searching the crowd.

He wasn't there.

"Aki's probably just running late," Mira said beside her, tightening the straps of her backpack.

Lily nodded, though her chest still felt tight. After everything that had happened—the distance, the silence—he had said he'd come. But doubt had a way of creeping in.

The crowd shifted. Lily turned—and there he was.

Aki.

He stepped through the line of students, face calm but unreadable. His uniform was neatly pressed, scarf looped once around his neck. No emotion, no hesitation. Just a nod in her direction.

Lily's breath caught for a second. She raised her hand in a small wave. Aki returned the gesture with a soft nod, then walked toward another bus to check the seating list.

He was here. That was enough for now.

The students began filing onto their buses. Mira nudged Lily forward, motioning to their row of seats in the middle. Lily slid in beside the window, camera already hanging around her neck, eyes bright.

Aki took a seat across the aisle. Not beside her—close, but still holding the invisible line he had drawn between them days ago.

Lily glanced sideways once.

He had his sketchbook out, fingers already moving over the page. She saw the corner of a snow-covered pine emerge in pencil strokes.

Her chest eased, just a little.

Maybe this trip would help them find their way back.

Hours passed quickly. They traveled by bus, then transferred to the train station where a long-distance ride would take them to Hokkaido. Onboard, the atmosphere felt charged—snacks passed around, music shared through earbuds, scenery captured by phone and camera alike.

Lily leaned against the window, the world blurring past.

Aki sat across from her, notebook open, sketching the frozen countryside without ever needing to look up. Occasionally, she caught him glancing out the window when he thought no one was watching. When their eyes met once, he offered a soft, respectful smile, then looked away.

Something about that small moment felt more intimate than words.

The train pulled into Furano just as the first snow began to fall.

Delicate flakes drifted through the air, catching on coats and eyelashes, disappearing into the warm breath of excited students. Someone shouted, "It's snowing!" and a ripple of laughter spread through the group.

Lily tilted her face to the sky. Snowflakes landed in her hair.

This was real. They had arrived.

Their ryokan was a short walk from the station. Inside, warmth embraced them immediately—tatami floors, sliding paper doors, and a deep, earthy scent of cedar and green tea. Lily marveled at it all as they were led to their shared rooms.

She and Mira dropped their bags and changed into soft indoor slippers. Lily peeked out the hall window where the garden was already dusted with snow.

Down the hall, she saw Aki sitting quietly, sketchbook open on his lap as always.

Later that evening, while most of the class explored the bath area or huddled around vending machines, Lily found herself sitting at a low table in one of the common rooms. She pulled her camera out to review the day's photos: blurry motion shots, half-caught smiles, and the glowing lanterns of the ryokan entrance.

A movement caught her eye.

Aki sat down opposite her, still silent.

He placed his sketchbook on the table and slid it slightly toward her.

Lily looked up.

He didn't say anything, just nodded.

She opened the book carefully. Pages flipped past—mountain outlines, falling snow, the faint trace of her own face in profile. Her breath stilled.

Lily reached for her notebook and did the same—offering him glimpses of her day through captured images. They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

In the shared silence, something began to mend.

The onsen was a warm sanctuary against the evening chill. Lily sank into the steaming water beside Mira and Riku, steam rising in soft clouds around them.

"I can't believe how peaceful it is here," Mira whispered, eyes closed.

Lily nodded. "Like we stepped into another world."

Across the bath, Aki sat with the boys, water beading on his skin, hair damp against his forehead. He looked more relaxed than she'd seen him in days.

He noticed her gaze.

Their eyes met briefly.

He mouthed, You okay?

Lily nodded with a small smile. You?

He dipped his head in return.

No more was said, but something shifted in her. The weight she'd been carrying felt a little lighter.

Back in the room, Lily wrote in her journal by lantern light.

Aki came. He didn't say much, but he was here. He shared his sketches. That meant more than I can say. I don't know if we'll talk like before. I don't know if the distance is still there. But tonight, for the first time in a while, I didn't feel alone.

In the quiet room next door, she could faintly hear Mira humming.

From beyond the thin paper wall, she imagined Aki lying awake too—perhaps drawing still, or just listening to the snow falling outside their window.

And for the first time in days, Lily let herself sleep peacefully.

Because he had stayed.

And maybe that was the beginning of everything