(Kiyomi's POV)
The sky was the kind of orange that made everything feel bittersweet—like the world was half on fire and half asleep.
I walked along the narrow path behind the school, the one lined with sakura trees that had long lost their flowers. I held my phone, re-reading Minato's message:
"Meet me by the old garden after club activities. Don't be late."
I didn't know what to expect, but Minato had been acting strange all week—secretive, yet soft-spoken, as though he was carrying a secret too beautiful to spoil.
When I reached the garden, the first thing I saw was the light—tiny strings of fairy lights draped around the fence, glowing softly against the twilight. There was a blanket spread on the grass, a few candles flickering in glass jars, and beside them… Minato.
He looked up from where he was arranging something on a small wooden box.
Minato: You're right on time.
I blinked.
Kiyomi:(Confused) What… is all this?
He smiled faintly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Minato: A thank-you. For being the one who never gave up on us. On me.
My throat tightened.
Kiyomi:(Softly) Minato…
He gestured for me to sit, and when I did, he handed me a small sketchbook—our group's moments drawn in his careful, neat strokes: the lunch breaks, the festivals, even our laughter in the rain.
Minato: I drew these since last week. I wanted to remind you—remind us—that even when everything feels broken, we still had something real (He said quietly).
I flipped through the pages, and my eyes stung.
Kiyomi: You did this… for me? (I asked, softly).
He nodded, his expression gentle but steady.
Minato: Because you keep everyone together, Kiyomi. And because- (He paused, his voice dropping low) You make me want to be better. Not just for you. But because of you.
The words hung between us like a fragile string.
I looked at him—really looked. The way his eyes softened when they met mine, the warmth that seemed to settle in his presence. And for the first time, I felt something inside me shift—not just gratitude, not just friendship, but something that scared me a little because it was deeper. Realer.
Kiyomi: Minato… (I whispered).
But before I could finish, he smiled, breaking the tension just enough.
Minato: You don't have to say anything. Just… stay here a little longer.
I nodded, my heart unsteady.
The silence between us wasn't empty. It was full—of all the words we dared not to say yet.
(Akio's POV)
The streets were quiet when I walked home that night, hands shoved into my pockets, my hood up. The world felt muffled, like I was walking through glass.
Everywhere I went, it was like my name was followed by whispers—by reminders of what I'd ruined. Hinata didn't talk to me anymore, Asahi barely looked my way, and Kiyomi… even she had stopped trying so hard lately.
I reached the park where we used to sit after school and kicked at a stone, watching it roll away.
I hated the silence.
I hated myself in it.
Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through our old group photos—smiling faces, inside jokes, messy hair. All of it felt like a life that belonged to someone else.
My eyes blurred for a second before I blinked it away.
Akio: Maybe they're better off (I muttered).
I sat on a cold bench, staring at the ground, the ache in my chest growing heavier with every breath. It wasn't that I wanted to disappear. I just didn't know how to exist anymore when every room I entered felt smaller. Colder.
I pulled up Kiyomi's message from days ago:
"Can we talk? All of us? Please. I miss how it used to be."
I typed a reply, deleted it, then typed again.
"I'm sorry. For everything."
And then I didn't send it. I just stared at the words until they blurred into nothing.
(Hinata's POV)
Asahi and I walked side by side along the school bridge, where the last of the sunset bled into purple.
I glanced at him—his expression calm, his hands in his pockets.
Hinata: Asahi... (I said softly) You said once that people break so they can become something new.
He nodded.
Asahi: Yeah.
Hinata: What about people who break others in the process?
He then looked at me, eyes unreadable. Asahi: Then they have to live with the echoes. But sometimes… even those echoes can change if you let someone in.
My heart thudded once, sharply.
Hinata: You talk like you know.
He gave a small smile.
Asahi: I do.
Something in his tone—vulnerable, unguarded—pulled me closer without me meaning to move. And before I knew it, our hands brushed, lightly, accidentally… but none of us pulled away.
It was quiet, the kind of quiet that meant everything had already been said without words.
And somewhere, deep inside me, I realized that what I felt for Asahi wasn't confusion anymore. It was something clear. Soft. Steady.
Something I wasn't ready to admit, but couldn't ignore.
(Kiyomi's POV)
When I returned home that night, my thoughts wouldn't settle.
The image of Minato beneath the fairy lights replayed in my mind—the warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes.
For the first time in a long while, I felt seen. Not as the girl who had to fix everyone, but as someone worth doing something for.
I sat by my window, staring at the moonlit street below, my heart caught somewhere between confusion and quiet joy.
And for the first time since everything fell apart, I smiled—not the tired kind, but the one that meant hope might still exist.