Inside the Car – Winter Night
The sound of the car engine purred softly, wheels crunching over the snowy road. From the window, the city lights shimmered faintly, reflecting against the slightly fogged-up glass. Chitoge sat quietly in the back seat, leaning back with her hands folded on her lap.
Claude, driving steadily, occasionally glanced through the rearview mirror.
"Ojou-sama… you seem to have a lot on your mind."
Chitoge didn't reply right away. She gazed out the window, watching the silhouettes of snow-covered trees passing by one after another. Her heart still raced, remembering Raku's face earlier—his innocent smile, the way he said thank you, and how his hands trembled slightly while learning to type a message.
"…Claude," she finally spoke, her voice soft, "why has he changed so much? Normally that Bean Sprout is noisy, stupid, always panicking. But earlier… he was so calm. Innocent. It felt like a completely different person."
Claude drew a deep breath, then answered in a calm yet wise tone.
"Amnesia can change a person, Ojou-sama. Losing memories doesn't just mean forgetting the past, but sometimes it also changes the way they see the world. Bocchan Ichijou now… is like a blank sheet of paper."
Chitoge gripped her coat tightly on her lap.
"A blank sheet, huh… But somehow… seeing him like that makes me…" She paused, searching for the right words, "…hurt. Even though I always got mad at him, always quarreled. But now… when he smiles so calmly… I feel… afraid of losing something."
Claude only nodded slightly. The traffic light ahead turned red, and the car slowed to a stop. In that brief silence, Chitoge opened her small bag. Inside, the empty box that had once held the smartphone was neatly kept. She pulled it out, stared at it for a while, then put it back.
"Claude… if he never remembers everything… if he never returns to who he was before… can I still…" her voice dimmed, "…stay by his side?"
Claude glanced briefly through the rearview mirror, his sharp eyes softening slightly.
"That is not a question for me, Ojou-sama. That is a question only you can answer."
The car moved again, leaving the city lights twinkling behind. Chitoge leaned back into the seat, closing her eyes for a moment, but the turmoil in her chest would not settle. Raku's innocent smile, his tears when receiving the gift… all of it replayed in her mind, making her heart feel warm yet painfully tight.
"…Idiot," she whispered faintly, almost inaudible, "why do you make me feel this way?"
Snow fell heavier outside, as if trying to cover the unrest growing in her heart.
Night – Ichijou Raku's Room
The desk lamp glowed dimly, illuminating only a small part of the quiet room. Outside the window, snow still drifted slowly, covering the yard and rooftops with an ever-thickening white blanket.
Raku sat on his bed, the new smartphone resting in his hand. The pale blue screen reflected against his face, his eyes following every word he read.
"School…" he murmured softly, typing the word into the search bar.
Several articles and pictures appeared. Photos of large buildings with wide yards, students in uniforms, teachers standing before a chalkboard.
Raku scrolled down, reading the brief explanations: a place to study, a place to meet friends, a place to build the future. Yet in his head—it was blank. He couldn't remember the feeling of sitting in class, hearing a teacher's voice, or joking with a seatmate.
Only vague shadows remained… distant laughter he couldn't reach.
He typed again: school lessons.
Math, history, language, science—all of them appeared on the screen. Words both strange and familiar, yet they still felt distant, as though they belonged to someone else.
"…So, I used to… study all this?" he whispered, as if asking himself.
Silence filled the room. The wall clock ticked slowly, emphasizing the stillness of the night. Raku closed the smartphone gently, placing it on the small table beside his bed.
He lay back, staring at the ceiling for a while, then turned his gaze to the window. From there, he could see snowflakes falling softly, glittering under the glow of the streetlights.
Raku took a deep breath, his chest heavy with something he couldn't explain. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, looking outside with a longing gaze.
"…I want to remember," his voice was barely a whisper, "…who I really am. My friends… my family… even myself."
A faint mist escaped his mouth as he exhaled deeply.
The night went on, snow kept falling, as if covering the world with secrets unwilling to be revealed. Raku kept staring at the dark sky filled with white specks, silently holding a small hope—that tomorrow, or someday, those lost memories would return to him.
The room was dark, accompanied only by the dim glow of the desk lamp. Raku lay under his blanket, pulled up to his neck. His eyes were closed, but sleep wouldn't come. Only the sound of the ticking wall clock filled the air, tick… tock… tick… tock…, as if counting the slow passage of time.
At last, after dozing off briefly, his eyelids opened again. He blinked, staring at the ceiling with an empty gaze.
"…I woke up again," he muttered softly.
His hand reached for the small clock on the bedside table. The hands pointed exactly at 5 a.m. Raku paused for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
"Why does this body… always wake up so early?" he said quietly, puzzled at himself.
The air in the room was so cold, seeping into his bones despite the warmth of the blanket. He rubbed his arms, then slowly rose from bed. His eyes turned toward the window—outside, the sky was still dark, with only the faint glow of the streetlight piercing through the thin curtains.
He stood for a moment, lost in thought, before finally taking clothes from the wardrobe.
"…Maybe a warm bath will help," he whispered, bracing against the biting cold.
With slow steps, he walked toward the bath. Steam of warm water welcomed him as he filled the tub. Gradually he immersed himself, letting the warmth soak into his bones.
Raku rested his head against the tub's edge, gazing at the ceiling. From the frosted glass window above, he could see faint traces of the morning sky still dark, decorated by falling snowflakes.
He exhaled, warm mist escaping his mouth. In silence, he kept staring at that sky—somehow, there was an indescribable calm.
"…For some reason… looking at the sky feels a little peaceful."
Warm water flowed, time passed slowly, and the early dawn silence wrapped him in a private space of serenity.
Raku stepped out of the bath. Warm steam still clung to his skin, his wet hair dripping. He wiped his face with a small towel, then changed into simple but neat winter clothes.
The hallway of the house was quiet. No loud voices like yesterday morning. Only silence, broken by the faint creak of wooden floors reacting to the biting cold.
Raku walked slowly down the dimly lit corridor. The scent of damp wood mixed faintly with the soap fragrance from his body. He stopped briefly near the large window, pulled the curtain slightly, and looked outside.
In the yard, a thin layer of snow blanketed everything. The trees seemed frozen, their branches coated white, and the dark sky slowly shifted to gray, a sign that dawn was approaching.
"…Truly quiet," he whispered softly, pressing his palm against the cold glass.
He then headed toward the living room. The large table that had been filled with laughter, clattering plates, and warm chatter yesterday was now empty. Chairs neatly aligned, the tablecloth still folded, only traces of last night remained.
Raku walked closer, pulled out a chair, then sat down. He bowed his head slightly, fingers touching the cold wooden surface.
"So strange… yesterday it was so lively, but now… it's so empty," he muttered, smiling faintly.
Raku then leaned back, gazing at the brightening sky through the window of the living room. There was a strange feeling—loneliness wrapping him, yet also a gentle peace that made his chest feel a little warm.