The sky above was a soft, pale gray, the kind that made the whole world feel quieter. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but winter's breath kissed every window and breeze. School was over for the day, but the rooftop of the old building remained lit by a golden smear of sunset. And up there—just above the noise and pressure of teenage life—sat three students, tucked away from the rest of the world.
Ren leaned back against the railing, legs outstretched, a faint smile on his lips. He held a warm can of coffee in one hand, the heat a gentle contrast against the chilled air. Beside him, Naoki sat cross-legged, tossing popcorn into his mouth with casual ease, the bag between them already halfway empty.
Hana was a little further off, sitting near the edge with her sketchbook in her lap, pencil gliding in smooth, practiced strokes. Her brows furrowed slightly, lost in the rhythm of graphite against paper.
None of them spoke at first. And they didn't have to.
This rooftop was becoming their place.
A few days had passed since Ren stepped in to protect Hana. The bruises on her wrist had faded, but the invisible ones—those stayed a little longer. Still, something had shifted. She no longer flinched at footsteps behind her. She still kept to herself, but her eyes held a bit more light, like a flower turning toward the sun.
Naoki broke the silence, stretching with a groan.
"Y'know," he said, tossing a kernel into the air and missing, "if we're gonna keep hiding up here, we might as well install a heater. My ears are turning into ice cubes."
Ren chuckled, tossing him the empty coffee can. "Then wear the hoodie your mom keeps forcing on you."
"She says it makes me look cute. I'm seventeen, man. I'm trying to be mysterious, not adorable."
Hana smiled faintly at that, head still bowed over her drawing. It was a quiet kind of smile—like a candle flickering to life.
Naoki noticed. "Hey. You smiled."
She looked up, startled. "Huh?"
"That's a rare phenomenon. Someone note the date," he said dramatically, pulling out his phone. "We're gonna celebrate this day annually. Call it 'Smile Day.'"
Ren laughed again, nudging him with his foot. "Chill, man."
But Hana didn't shrink back this time. "You're... annoying," she mumbled, but her voice had no real bite to it.
"Facts," Ren added with a grin.
Naoki put a hand to his heart. "You wound me."
They settled into another quiet. A soft wind swept across the rooftop, carrying the smell of cold metal and faint cherry trees—remnants of fall still clinging to the school grounds.
Ren glanced at Hana's sketchbook. "What're you working on today?"
She hesitated, then turned it around. It was a rough sketch of the three of them. Naoki was mid-joke, popcorn flying from his hand. Ren looked serene. And Hana, for once, was smiling.
Naoki blinked. "Damn, you made me look cool."
"You do that enough on your own," she said.
"OHHH SHE HAS JOKES!" he yelled, standing up and pretending to faint. "This girl's becoming dangerous!"
Ren grinned, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
He didn't say it out loud, but this—this right here—felt like something worth holding on to.
---
Later that evening, as dusk painted the world in lavender shadows, Ren and Naoki walked together down the narrow alley behind the school. Their breath fogged in the cold air, and their footsteps echoed off the brick walls.
Naoki stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "You think she's doing better?"
Ren nodded. "Yeah. She still keeps her distance, but she's opening up."
"You like her?"
Ren paused, then gave a soft shrug. "She's easy to be around. Real. I don't have to pretend."
Naoki raised an eyebrow. "You never pretend, bro."
Ren looked ahead. "Sometimes... I do."
Naoki didn't press. He just nodded and let it go. That was the kind of friend he was—one who could joke like an idiot and still know when to shut up.
---
That night, Hana sat at her desk, sketchbook beside her, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The apartment was quiet, her parents still out at another formal dinner. She'd left a note on the fridge, but she wasn't sure they'd even notice.
She flipped to the rooftop drawing again, running her fingers lightly over the page. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she wasn't completely invisible.
A text buzzed on her phone.
Ren:
Let me know if you're drawing something cool tomorrow. I wanna see.
Her lips curled into a small, genuine smile.
She typed back.
Hana:
Only if Naoki promises not to scream about it.
Seconds later:
Naoki:
TOO LATE. I'M ALREADY SCREAMING.
She rolled her eyes—but it felt nice. Like warmth creeping in through a crack in the wall.
---
Meanwhile, in his apartment, Ren sat at his kitchen counter, staring at a half-eaten bowl of instant ramen. The lights were dim, and the calendar on the wall had one date circled in red.
It was the date he first met Hana.
He didn't know why he marked it at the time. Maybe part of him knew something had shifted that day. Maybe it was just instinct.
He got up, walked to the window, and looked out over the city—its lights scattered like fallen stars. Somewhere out there, Naoki was probably still awake, trying to read medical texts while half-asleep. Hana was likely curled up with her pencils, breathing life into lines and shadows.
He smiled quietly.
Whatever this was—whatever they were building—it mattered.
——————