The cold winter wind whistled through the back alley of the school, carrying the sharp sting of frost and cruel laughter. Hana Amano crouched low against the brick wall, her breath visible in the icy air. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, unwilling to give her tormentors the satisfaction.
Three boys loomed over her, one flipping lazily through the pages of her sketchbook.
"What is this? Depressed little drawings? Freak stuff," one of them scoffed, crumpling a page at the corner.
"Hey, careful with that!" Hana cried, reaching out.
She was met with a shove that sent her back into the wall. Her shoulder thudded hard against the bricks, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to cry.
"Who's gonna stop us?" another boy laughed.
"You're always by yourself. No one's looking for you."
Her bag was kicked open. Pencils and erasers clattered across the ground. One boy picked up a small charm—her only keepsake from childhood—and snorted.
"What's this? A good luck charm? How pathetic."
She scrambled forward, trying to reach for it, only to be kicked down again. The laughter rang louder. The winter chill wasn't the reason she was shaking anymore.
And then—
Footsteps.
Not rushed. Not panicked. Just calm, steady... and getting closer.
"Put it down."
The voice was quiet—but sharp, like cold steel.
The bullies turned.
A boy stood at the mouth of the alley, framed by the pale afternoon light. He had dark hair that brushed just above his eyes, a plain black jacket, and a look of calm that made them hesitate.
"Mind your business," the lead thug snapped.
The boy didn't answer.
He walked forward, hands still in his pockets.
The first punch landed so fast the bully didn't see it coming. A sharp crack echoed down the alley as the boy hit the ground, groaning.
The others stepped back—but before they could decide what to do, another figure joined in.
Naoki Sora.
He strolled up with a worn paperback mystery novel tucked under his arm, chewing casually on a stick of gum.
"Told you the gym route was faster, Ren," he said, eyeing the scene.
"Guess it had bonus content too."
Ren didn't look back. His eyes stayed locked on the bullies.
"Try again," he said, his voice still level, as the second thug lunged. He ducked and swept the guy's leg out from under him.
Naoki stepped in, grabbing the last one by the collar and slamming him lightly into the wall—nothing brutal, just enough to send a message.
"Ever heard of karma? She moves fast when she's pissed," Naoki smirked, letting him go.
The bullies scattered, limping and swearing under their breath.
Silence returned, broken only by the soft rustling of Hana's sketchbook pages in the wind.
Ren turned to her and crouched down.
"You okay?"
Hana blinked up at him, her lips trembling, but she nodded slowly.
Naoki stepped closer, crouching near her spilled art supplies. He picked up the sketchbook and flipped it open, more careful than the others.
"…Whoa," he muttered.
"These aren't just drawings. You're telling stories, aren't you?"
He looked at one specific page—a girl standing alone in the snow, holding an umbrella over a sleeping cat.
"You drew this from memory?"
She nodded shyly.
"You've got an eye," he said, handing it back.
"And a heart, too. Keep drawing."
Ren extended a hand. This time, she didn't hesitate.
"There's a better place to hang out," he said.
"School rooftop. It's quiet up there."
Naoki slung an arm around Ren's shoulder as they began to walk away.
"You owe me popcorn for this detour," he muttered.
"You're the one who took the long way," Ren replied, chuckling softly.
Hana followed behind, still shaken—but warmer somehow. Not just because the beating had stopped, but because something else had started.
A small spark.
A faint warmth.
The beginning of something unexpected.
Winter hadn't ended…
But it wasn't as cold anymore.
And as snowflakes began to fall, Hana clutched her sketchbook to her chest, heart beating faster, like she had just taken the first step out of a long, quiet blizzard.
They made their way through the back entrance, avoiding teachers and the afternoon rush. The halls were quieter now, dusted with the gray light of an overcast sky. Ren led the way, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, silent but aware of Hana's every step behind him.
Naoki glanced over at her as they climbed the stairs.
"So... you always chill with jerks like that, or is today special?"
She looked down, embarrassed. "...I was just trying to draw."
"Bad spot for it," he said, but there was no cruelty in his voice. "But hey, lucky you. Ren's got a nose for trouble."
Ren didn't respond. He stopped at the rooftop door, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a key.
"You have a key to the rooftop?" Hana asked.
Ren gave a small nod. "Old janitor dropped it once. I kept it. No one really uses this place anyway."
The rooftop opened to a flat, open space with a few metal benches and a rusting vending machine in the corner. The wind was calmer up here. The clouds above drifted slowly, casting a soft light over the quiet scene.
Naoki collapsed onto a bench, stretching out.
"I come here to read," he said, pulling out his mystery novel again. "Less noise, more drama. You'd like it."
Hana walked toward the edge of the rooftop, sketchbook pressed against her chest. From here, the entire city seemed to spread out beneath them—gray rooftops dusted with white, trees stripped bare, birds flying low.
"This is… peaceful," she murmured.
Ren leaned against the railing beside her.
"It's the only place I don't feel surrounded."
She glanced at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice. He didn't look at her, just stared into the distance.
Naoki, eyes half-closed now, added, "You can come here whenever. Ren shows up around lunch, I stop by after school sometimes. Might as well make it our hangout."
Hana hesitated, then nodded.
"Okay."
The wind tugged lightly at her hair. She opened her sketchbook, flipped to a blank page, and began to draw.
Ren turned slightly to watch her. Her hand moved smoothly, pencil dancing across the paper. She was quiet—but her silence didn't feel empty anymore.
Naoki peeked up from his book.
"What are you drawing?"
"...You two."
She didn't look up as she spoke, but there was a small, shy smile on her lips.
Ren tilted his head, curious.
"Hope you make me look good," Naoki teased. "And taller."
The three of them laughed softly, and for the first time in a long while, Hana felt like maybe she wasn't invisible. Maybe, just maybe, this winter had brought her something new.
Not a storm.
Not loneliness.
But a beginning.
–————