The sky was a flat gray when Hana stepped onto the rooftop. Wind brushed past her scarf as she clutched her sketchbook to her chest. The rooftop had become her quiet haven lately. Not many students came up here during winter.
But one always did.
Ren was already leaning against the railing, sipping from a can of milk coffee. His jacket was open despite the cold, his breath fogging lightly in the air.
"You're early," Hana said, taking her usual spot near the wall.
He glanced at her. "You're getting used to this place, huh?"
"It's peaceful," she murmured, flipping open her sketchbook.
He nodded and turned back toward the sky. "Peaceful's good."
They sat in silence for a moment. Then, as if remembering something, Ren turned to her again. "Hey, uh… how's the drawing coming along?"
She hesitated. "Slow. I haven't felt very… inspired."
"You draw based on feelings?"
She nodded.
"Then maybe you're not sad enough yet."
She blinked at him. "That's dark."
He shrugged with a small smirk. "Or maybe you're just too happy lately."
She looked at him with a soft smile. "Are you saying being around you makes me happy?"
"I mean, clearly."
She laughed quietly, the sound warm against the cold breeze.
---
Lunch came quicker than expected. They were back inside now, sitting on the far side of the cafeteria. Ren poked at his bento while Hana nibbled on a rice ball, her gaze drifting to the window.
Across the table, Naoki dropped his tray down with a loud clunk and slid into the seat beside Ren.
"Did someone order a ray of sunshine?" he asked, grinning.
Ren snorted. "We ordered silence, actually."
"Too bad," Naoki said, stealing one of Ren's pickles. "Silence is out of stock."
Hana gave a small smile. "Hi, Naoki."
"Hey, Amano. Drawing sad boys again?"
Ren raised an eyebrow. "She was drawing you earlier."
"Exactly my point," Naoki said with a wink.
Hana chuckled, and Ren shook his head with a faint grin.
They ate together, jokes thrown between bites, but Ren noticed how Naoki kept checking his phone. Every couple of minutes, like he was waiting for something. Or someone.
"You okay?" Ren asked quietly, leaning closer.
Naoki gave him a look and shrugged. "Yeah. Just checking in."
Ren didn't push. But he noticed the tired look behind Naoki's usual smirk.
---
After school, Ren offered to walk Hana home again. The streets were quiet, the sun already dipping low. Their shadows stretched long ahead of them.
"Ren," Hana said, breaking the silence. "Are you… always like this?"
"Like what?"
"Comfortable with silence. Comfortable with people."
He thought for a second. "I guess. It's easy with you."
She blinked, surprised.
"You're not trying to be someone you're not. Most people… wear masks."
She looked down at her boots. "Maybe I am wearing one too."
He glanced at her. "You think so?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too quiet. If people would like me more if I talked more."
"I wouldn't," he said.
She looked up.
"I like you just as you are, Hana."
The wind blew softly between them, and she couldn't help the faint warmth that bloomed in her chest despite the cold.
---
Meanwhile, Naoki stood in the sterile hospital corridor, a bag of snacks in one hand and his phone in the other.
He stared at the screen. No new messages. No missed calls.
Room 407.
He pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.
His mother was sitting up slightly in bed, a thin blanket over her legs. An IV dripped quietly beside her. She looked over as he walked in.
"There's my boy," she said with a tired smile.
"Hey, Mom." He set the bag down on the small table. "I brought you melon bread. Your favorite."
"You're spoiling me," she joked.
"You say that every time."
He pulled up the chair and sat beside her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The steady beeping of machines filled the silence.
Her hands were thinner than they used to be. Skin paler. The effects of the lupus came and went like waves. Some days were worse than others.
"Any pain?" he asked gently.
"A little. Mostly tired."
He nodded. "I can talk to the nurse if—"
"No," she interrupted softly. "It's okay. Just having you here helps."
Naoki looked away, trying not to let the emotion reach his face. "I skipped out on cram school today. I'll just tell them I had a fever or something."
"You don't need to do that."
"I want to."
She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Naoki… you're working so hard. You don't have to carry everything by yourself."
"I'm not," he lied with a grin. "Ren helps. He's dumb enough to copy my homework."
She laughed. "I'm glad you have him."
He looked down at their hands. "Yeah. Me too."
They sat like that for a while, and Naoki began quietly telling her about his day—how Ren nearly dropped a dumbbell on his foot, how Hana almost fell asleep during math class, how the cafeteria tried to pass off soggy fries as food.
His voice was light, playful, even as a part of him felt like crumbling inside.
But he kept talking.
Because his mother deserved to smile.
---
That night, Ren was back on the apartment rooftop, the city lights flickering below. He could still hear Hana's laugh from earlier. Could still see the quiet sadness in Naoki's eyes when he thought no one noticed.
Everyone had their burdens. Some just hid them better.
He looked at the stars, wondering how long peace like this would last.
And why it already felt like something heavy was beginning to stir.
——————