The snowfall that had blanketed the city for days had finally softened into a quiet, constant drift. The streets shimmered under thin layers of ice, and the Christmas lights from storefronts and balconies bathed everything in warm hues. It had been a week since Ren's confession under the fireworks—a week since Hana's heart had become a flurry of feelings she still hadn't named aloud.
Their dynamic had shifted, subtly. Ren was still Ren—chill, warm, steady—but now his glances lingered longer, and sometimes when their fingers brushed, neither of them pulled away.
But they hadn't spoken about it. Not really. Not directly.
---
The story that night wasn't about Hana, though. It began in a quiet park, the kind of place few remembered in winter. A streetlamp buzzed dimly near an old bench. Ren sat there, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, breath clouding in front of him.
Naoki approached slowly, sneakers crunching over icy patches. He had Popcorn, the kitten, nestled in the folds of his jacket.
"You sure this cat doesn't hate the cold?" Naoki muttered, sitting beside Ren.
"She's tougher than she looks," Ren said. "Like someone else I know."
Naoki rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Silence sat between them for a while—comfortable but heavy, like snow on tree branches just before it falls.
Ren finally broke it. "I was serious, y'know. About confessing."
Naoki blinked, looking at him sideways. "To Hana?"
Ren nodded. "I already did. Christmas fireworks. She didn't say anything yet. But she smiled. I'll take that as hope."
Naoki let out a soft snort. "Damn. You're really something."
Ren shrugged. "You ever gonna talk about it?"
Naoki stiffened.
"Talk about what?"
"Whatever it is you keep pretending isn't breaking you."
The park seemed quieter now. Even Popcorn lifted her tiny head as if to listen.
Naoki let out a slow breath, clouding in the cold air. "You know I hate this part."
"Then talk through it. Not around it."
For a long moment, Naoki didn't speak. The wind rustled through bare branches overhead.
"My mom's been getting worse. Lupus flare-ups are more frequent now," he finally said, voice low. "Doctors say they're trying new meds, but all I hear is 'we don't know.'"
Ren didn't say anything, but he turned his body slightly toward Naoki, giving him his full attention.
"I sit there next to her hospital bed, and she keeps telling me how proud she is of me. Even when she's too weak to hold a spoon. It pisses me off."
"Why?"
Naoki's laugh was hollow. "Because I don't feel like someone she should be proud of. I feel like I'm drowning every damn day, and I still put on this stupid act. Jokes, sarcasm—"
"Armor."
"Yeah. And every time I'm about to fall apart, I just... don't. Because I don't have time to. Because if I break, who's going to be strong for her?"
Ren was quiet, then reached out and lightly flicked Naoki's forehead.
"Ow, what the hell—"
"That's for thinking you're alone. You're not."
Naoki blinked. Popcorn mewed.
Ren stood and stretched, exhaling steam into the air. "Come over on Christmas Eve. I'm cooking dinner. Bring your mom if she's up for it. Or bring Popcorn and your broody self."
Naoki looked up, eyes glassy but not yet crying. "You cook now? Since when?"
"Since I made pancakes with Hana and didn't burn the house down."
Naoki smirked. "Took you long enough."
---
Back at Hana's house, she sat cross-legged on her bed, sketchbook open in her lap. Her pencil hovered over the page, but she hadn't drawn anything for a while.
Her thoughts kept replaying the look on Ren's face when the fireworks exploded above them.
He had looked calm. Gentle. But his eyes—his eyes had shimmered like they were made of every bright star in the sky.
And he had said it.
"I like you, Hana."
She'd smiled, lips trembling with a hundred things she couldn't say at the time.
Now, she traced over the same line on her page for the fifth time, wondering if he thought she didn't care. Wondering if maybe–
Her phone buzzed.
Ren: "Park bench. Streetlamp. Same spot as last time."
She bit her lip. Her heart jumped.
She put her sketchbook down and stood, grabbing her coat.
---
By the time Hana arrived at the park, Ren had already left, but a note sat under the bench light, folded carefully.
She opened it slowly.
"Hana,
I don't expect anything back. I just wanted you to know how I feel. You've made winter feel warm. Even if you don't say it now, I'll wait. No pressure. Just… thank you for being you.
Ren."
Her eyes stung. Not with sadness, but something softer. She folded the note and slipped it into her pocket.
Then she sat on the bench, hugging her knees, heart fluttering.
Somewhere not far, fireworks from another celebration cracked the sky, faint and flickering above the rooftops.
And this time, she smiled without hesitation.
————