The park was nearly empty.
Fresh snow blanketed the ground, shimmering under the soft sunlight. The wind carried a chill sharp enough to bite through their jackets, but neither of them seemed to mind.
Souta sat quietly on the swing, gloved hands resting on the cold metal chains. Sia sat beside him, her legs swaying lazily, boots brushing through the thin powder.
He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded as he looked toward the sky.
"The sun looks so elegant today, doesn't it?" he murmured, his breath forming faint clouds in the air.
Sia followed his gaze. The sky was a pale, washed-out blue, framed by bare trees reaching toward it like tired hands.
"Yeah… it really does," she said softly.
They sat in silence for a moment, letting the cold nip at their cheeks. In the distance, two elderly couples shuffled along the path, chatting and laughing like the cold didn't exist. It felt like a moment stolen from time.
"So…" Sia said, eyes drifting upward again, "what is it about?"
Souta didn't answer right away. He looked like he was trying to form the words, but they kept slipping away.
"…Nothing much," he said eventually. "Just wanted to spend time with you."
She glanced at him and smiled faintly.
"Well, our whole friend circle's officially on their dating arc… except us."
He chuckled under his breath. "Guess the author forgot to give us a love story."
"For real," she laughed, though it sounded just a bit too light—like she was holding something back.
Bending forward, she scooped up a small handful of snow and held it up, letting the sunlight catch the tiny flakes as they sparkled.
"Fresh snow always looks beautiful, doesn't it? But once it gets old, it turns gray. Slushy. Rotten, even."
Her smile didn't match her voice.
Souta watched her for a moment, then glanced toward a small bird perched nearby, feathers puffed against the cold.
"Look at that bird. Everyone thinks they're cute until they start chirping non-stop. Then it's just annoying."
"Still…" Sia's voice was barely above a whisper. "The snow never complains. It just sits there quietly, listening. And the bird? It endures the snow's silence."
Souta's brows furrowed slightly. "...It's not really about the snow or the bird, is it?"
She stayed quiet.
"I don't know," she whispered.
The snow in her hand melted slowly, slipping between her fingers like time she couldn't hold onto.
"I just thought it'd always be like before, y'know? Our friend group. The dumb jokes, the weird arguments about cereal brands and anime power rankings. It all felt so simple. Now… I don't know. Everything's changing, and I'm not sure I'm ready."
Souta shifted on the swing, snow crunching beneath his boots.
"Change isn't always bad," he said, nudging a bit of snow with his toe. "If it wasn't for change… Chris wouldn't be who he is now."
Sia let out a dry laugh. "Even Chris got a love arc. Meanwhile, we're just…"
She didn't finish.
Silence settled in again—comfortable, but full of things unsaid.
Souta glanced at her hands. "Your hands are freezing."
Before she could protest, he was already slipping off his gloves and holding them out to her.
"Here. Wear these."
She frowned. "But what about you?"
He shrugged, flashing a shy grin. "If you're warm, then I've got no complaints."
Her eyes lingered on him a second too long before she took the gloves. They were way too big on her, but soft. Warm. Safe.
Souta stood and stretched, arms overhead like he was shaking off the cold.
"C'mon. Let's get something warm."
"'Kay," she said quietly, brushing snow off her coat as she stood.
They walked side by side, not quite touching, but close enough to feel each other's presence. Their footprints trailed behind them, slowly disappearing under fresh snowfall.
Eventually, they found a small café tucked between two buildings. Its windows were fogged up, glowing golden from inside like a lantern in a storm.
The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in.
Warmth hit them instantly, along with the scent of cinnamon, cocoa, and old books. The place was cozy and quiet, like it had been waiting for them.
Souta flopped into the seat by the window and blew on his fingers dramatically.
"Now I regret giving you my gloves," he mumbled. "My fingers are crying."
Sia giggled, wrapping her hands tighter around her mug. "Your fault."
Steam curled from her cup, fogging her glasses slightly. She pulled them off and wiped them before looking at him.
"Souta?"
"Yeah?" he said, blinking up at her.
She hesitated, then looked down into her drink.
"Sometimes it feels like we're background characters in someone else's romance story. Like… we're the extras. No love arc. No spotlight. Just there."
He leaned back, letting his head rest against the chair as he sighed.
"Guess the author really hates us."
Outside, the snow kept falling—soft and endless.
Inside, two hearts sat quietly across from each other—close enough to touch, but still waiting for a line in the script to finally say what they really meant.
—To be continued
~Rei