December 31. The final day of the year. Streets buzzed with a mix of soft snowfall and the distant clinking of festive bells, drawing flocks of people to the heart of the city. Couples walked shoulder-to-shoulder beneath bundled coats, arms linked like it was the last time they could hold each other before the year ended. Children tugged at their parents for candied treats and seasonal toys. The air was brisk, the sky a soft gray, and the atmosphere painted with warmth despite the cold.
Miyazaki blended quietly into the flow of the crowd.
Her gloved hands tightened gently around the paper handles of her modest shopping bag. It wasn't much—just something random she had picked out for herself, even though she doesn't need it.
She was wearing a long cream-colored coat, the edges brushing the tops of her dark boots. Her hair had a slight curl from the morning, framing her pale cheeks now slightly pink from the cold. Earbuds played a quiet jazz track in her ears, though her mind had long since wandered.
Every now and then, she'd glance at a store window—a display of snow globes, matching couple mugs, tiny animal plushies arranged on a bench. Then she'd keep walking.
People probably thought she was shopping for someone. Maybe a boyfriend.
She tightened her scarf, her pace slowing.
That thought made her heart skip.
"A boyfriend, huh..." she muttered beneath her breath.
The image of Jousuke's soft eyes came to mind.
His laugh. His voice. The way he always nodded slightly when listening. The awkward way he tucked his hands in his pockets when he didn't know what to say.
And most vividly—the way he had smiled on Christmas Day.
Miyazaki's footsteps slowed. She stood still for a moment near the corner of a vending machine, letting people pass.
That day had replayed more times in her head than she wanted to admit. Over and over, like a melody she couldn't stop humming. The café, the warm air between them, the quiet tones in his voice when he spoke directly to her.
When he had opened her gift.
She clenched her hands together. "That stupid scarf. Had he liked it? Did he actually use it?" she asked herself.
She dared not ask. But she dared to hope.
Her eyes lifted to the sky. A soft breeze pushed strands of her hair across her face.
"Was he out here somewhere today?" she thought to herself.
She shook her head, cheeks redder than before now.
"Don't be dumb." she muttered.
Still, she glanced around.
And then, just like fate tapping her on the shoulder—she turned a corner.
And collided into someone.
Her shopping bag nearly fell. Her hands clutched it instinctively.
"Ah—I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her head bowing out of habit.
"No, no, it's fine. That was my fault."
That voice.
Miyazaki's heart froze.
She looked up.
Jousuke.
He was wearing his usual layered winter outfit—slightly rumpled like always, with his signature navy jacket and a hoodie peeking out from underneath. But what caught her eye the most—the thing that made her breath catch in her throat—was the scarf.
Her scarf.
That gray wool scarf she had picked out and boxed and wrapped with trembling fingers before Christmas.
It was wrapped gently around his neck, the edges slightly frayed from wear. It looked... well-used.
He had worn it. On his own. Out here. In public.
Miyazaki didn't speak. Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.
Her thoughts were too loud.
He's wearing it. He remembered. He actually wore it.
Jousuke tilted his head. "...Miyazaki-san?"
Her name from his lips sent a shock down her spine.
She quickly nodded, too quickly. "Y-Yeah, I'm here! I mean—yes, that's me."
Jousuke smiled gently. The snow started falling a little more now, soft specks landing in his hair.
"I didn't expect to see you here." he said.
Miyazaki felt like her whole face was on fire. "I didn't expect it either..."
Then, her eyes flicked up to the scarf again.
She couldn't stop herself.
"Y-You're wearing it..." she said in barely a whisper.
Jousuke blinked. Then he followed her gaze and touched the scarf.
"Ah." he said, a little shy himself. "Yeah. I've been wearing it almost every day since then. It's really warm. Thank you again."
"Warm." she murmured.
Miyazaki's knees nearly gave out.
She clutched her bag tighter. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears.
"I-I see..." she said softly. Then she laughed, though it was more like a breath escaping. "T-That's good... I'm glad."
Jousuke nodded. "Are you out shopping?"
"Yes. Just... something I don't actually need but makes me happy." She glanced down at the bag.
Jousuke hesitated, then looked around. "It's kinda crowded today, huh?"
"Yeah. A lot of people are rushing for the new year." she said.
"Ah. Right, tomorrow's already January. Time flies." he said.
A small silence fell between them.
The city moved on around them, as if they were in a snow globe—just the two of them frozen in a quiet moment.
Jousuke noticed her cheeks. "You look cold."
Miyazaki immediately straightened. "N-No! I'm not cold. I'm fine!"
She said it too fast. Too loud.
Jousuke stared for a moment. Then, he chuckled.
Miyazaki turned her face slightly away, embarrassed.
"Still the same Miyazaki-san." he said softly.
She blinked.
"E-Eh?"
Jousuke rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, I mean... it's nice seeing you again."
The sound of those words made her heartbeat so loud she was sure he could hear it.
Miyazaki dared to look at him again. His scarf fluttered slightly in the breeze.
Her scarf.
She breathed out slowly.
I want this moment to stay.
But before she could speak again—before she could even ask where he was headed—a sudden burst of wind rushed past, and Jousuke lifted his hand to shield his face from the cold.
Their eyes met again.
Time stopped.
And then—
A single snowflake landed on the corner of his scarf.
Jousuke blinked once.
Miyazaki opened her mouth.
"Daikuhara-kun—"