The soft hum of the café was a familiar comfort, the kind of noise that blended into the background after a while. Aira's fingers gripped the handle of her coffee cup, the warm liquid swirling inside. The café was nearly empty this early in the morning, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was the calm before a storm.
She had arrived early, hoping for a quiet moment before the others showed up. But there was still something in the air, like she was waiting for something to happen. Maybe she was just tired.
She pulled her sketchbook out from her bag, flipping through the pages. She'd drawn the group again. She always did. This time, though, Kaito's sketch stood out among the rest. The others were sketched with quick, rough strokes, but his features were more delicate, more carefully outlined. His silver hair was almost too perfect in her drawing, like she was capturing something she didn't know how to express.
Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her from the drawing. She glanced at it, her heart sinking. It was a message from Haru:
You left something at the café yesterday.
Aira frowned and checked her bag, then her notebook. There was a page missing—the page with the sketch of Kaito. Her stomach twisted.
"I didn't mean to leave it," she muttered under her breath. "I don't even know why I drew him like that…"
She started typing a quick reply to Haru, but then hesitated. It wasn't just that she had left the page behind; it was the fact that Haru had seen it. Had he noticed the subtle difference? She couldn't be sure, but she didn't want to know. She shoved her phone back into her bag and stared at the empty page, feeling strangely exposed.
The bell above the door jingled, and Aira looked up, instinctively running a hand through her hair. Rina, as always, burst into the café like she owned it, followed by Kaito, Tsubasa, and Miyo. Haru followed quietly behind, scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone.
"Late again, Aira?" Rina grinned, setting her bag on the table with a thud. "You know, one day we're gonna lock the door just to make you knock."
Aira managed a smile. "I'll try to be better next time."
She tried to focus on the banter around her, but all she could think about was that page.
"You okay?" Haru's quiet voice broke through her thoughts. He sat down next to her, pulling out his own notebook. There was a smudge of graphite on his cheek, making him look younger than he actually was.
"Yeah, fine." Aira's voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat, pretending to sip her coffee. "Just a little distracted."
Haru didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press. Instead, he flipped open his own sketchbook, drawing something that looked like an abstract swirl of shapes. Aira watched him for a moment before returning her attention to her untouched coffee.
It wasn't until later, when the café started to quiet down and people began drifting toward the door, that Aira realized she'd forgotten to grab her sketchbook when they left. She went to grab it, but Haru was already holding it in his hands, the page that had been missing tucked carefully inside.
He caught her looking at it, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"I—" Aira started, but her words caught in her throat. "I didn't mean for you to see that."
Haru smiled faintly, his glasses sliding down his nose as he adjusted them. "It's just a drawing, Aira. It's not like you left your diary out."
Her face flushed, and she grabbed her bag, avoiding his gaze. "Still…"
Aira took the sketchbook from him, her fingers brushing against his. There was something strange about the way her heart raced. It wasn't just the embarrassment. It was the fact that, for a moment, she didn't feel alone in this. He had noticed something. Not just her art, but the way she saw people.
"Don't worry about it," Haru said softly. "I won't tell anyone."
But she wasn't sure if it was the telling that scared her.
That afternoon, Aira tried to focus on her homework, but her mind kept drifting back to the café. To the way Haru had smiled, like he understood something. But did he? She couldn't tell.
Her phone buzzed again, and she picked it up without thinking. The message was from an unknown number:
"Did you draw that? It looked like you."
Aira's breath hitched in her throat. She stared at the message, her pulse quickening. Her hand hovered over the screen, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. She didn't even know who had sent it.
She set the phone down on the desk, her mind racing. Kaito, she thought. He had to have seen the sketch too. But no, it couldn't be him. He hadn't said anything, had he?
The confusion gnawed at her. She tried to shake it off, but the thought lingered.
Had someone else seen her feelings?
The soft hum of the café was a familiar comfort, the kind of noise that blended into the background after a while. Aira's fingers gripped the handle of her coffee cup, the warm liquid swirling inside. The café was nearly empty this early in the morning, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was the calm before a storm.
She had arrived early, hoping for a quiet moment before the others showed up. But there was still something in the air, like she was waiting for something to happen. Maybe she was just tired.
She pulled her sketchbook out from her bag, flipping through the pages. She'd drawn the group again. She always did. This time, though, Kaito's sketch stood out among the rest. The others were sketched with quick, rough strokes, but his features were more delicate, more carefully outlined. His silver hair was almost too perfect in her drawing, like she was capturing something she didn't know how to express.
Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her from the drawing. She glanced at it, her heart sinking. It was a message from Haru:
You left something at the café yesterday.
Aira frowned and checked her bag, then her notebook. There was a page missing—the page with the sketch of Kaito. Her stomach twisted.
"I didn't mean to leave it," she muttered under her breath. "I don't even know why I drew him like that…"
She started typing a quick reply to Haru, but then hesitated. It wasn't just that she had left the page behind; it was the fact that Haru had seen it. Had he noticed the subtle difference? She couldn't be sure, but she didn't want to know. She shoved her phone back into her bag and stared at the empty page, feeling strangely exposed.
The bell above the door jingled, and Aira looked up, instinctively running a hand through her hair. Rina, as always, burst into the café like she owned it, followed by Kaito, Tsubasa, and Miyo. Haru followed quietly behind, scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone.
"Late again, Aira?" Rina grinned, setting her bag on the table with a thud. "You know, one day we're gonna lock the door just to make you knock."
Aira managed a smile. "I'll try to be better next time."
She tried to focus on the banter around her, but all she could think about was that page.
"You okay?" Haru's quiet voice broke through her thoughts. He sat down next to her, pulling out his own notebook. There was a smudge of graphite on his cheek, making him look younger than he actually was.
"Yeah, fine." Aira's voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat, pretending to sip her coffee. "Just a little distracted."
Haru didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press. Instead, he flipped open his own sketchbook, drawing something that looked like an abstract swirl of shapes. Aira watched him for a moment before returning her attention to her untouched coffee.
It wasn't until later, when the café started to quiet down and people began drifting toward the door, that Aira realized she'd forgotten to grab her sketchbook when they left. She went to grab it, but Haru was already holding it in his hands, the page that had been missing tucked carefully inside.
He caught her looking at it, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"I—" Aira started, but her words caught in her throat. "I didn't mean for you to see that."
Haru smiled faintly, his glasses sliding down his nose as he adjusted them. "It's just a drawing, Aira. It's not like you left your diary out."
Her face flushed, and she grabbed her bag, avoiding his gaze. "Still…"
Aira took the sketchbook from him, her fingers brushing against his. There was something strange about the way her heart raced. It wasn't just the embarrassment. It was the fact that, for a moment, she didn't feel alone in this. He had noticed something. Not just her art, but the way she saw people.
"Don't worry about it," Haru said softly. "I won't tell anyone."
But she wasn't sure if it was the telling that scared her.
That afternoon, Aira tried to focus on her homework, but her mind kept drifting back to the café. To the way Haru had smiled, like he understood something. But did he? She couldn't tell.
Her phone buzzed again, and she picked it up without thinking. The message was from an unknown number:
"Did you draw that? It looked like you."
Aira's breath hitched in her throat. She stared at the message, her pulse quickening. Her hand hovered over the screen, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. She didn't even know who had sent it.
She set the phone down on the desk, her mind racing. Kaito, she thought. He had to have seen the sketch too. But no, it couldn't be him. He hadn't said anything, had he?
The confusion gnawed at her. She tried to shake it off, but the thought lingered.
Had someone else seen her feelings?