Chapter 2 - The Warmth That Lingers
The warmth of Miyuki's kiss still lingered on Yuuta's cheek as he sat alone on the bench, cream bun wrapper fluttering slightly in the evening breeze beside him.
He stayed there for a few minutes longer, just watching the sky bleed into shades of crimson and indigo, his heart beating softly in the hollow of his chest.
There was no rush. No cram school today. No homework he couldn't finish later. Only the quiet hum of the fading day and the memory of her lips on his skin.
He stood, finally, brushing off the back of his trousers and taking one last look down the path she'd skipped away along.
Even though she was long gone, he could still picture her there—half-turned, skirt swaying, grinning like she knew she had him wrapped around her little finger. And maybe she did. Maybe that was okay.
By the time Yuuta reached home, twilight had softened into night. The streetlights cast warm pools of light onto the sidewalk, and his neighborhood was awash in the peaceful hush of evening routines: the clatter of dishes, the buzz of televisions, the faint laughter of families settling in.
His house was quiet, as usual. His parents worked late. The hallway smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, and the ticking clock in the kitchen marked each moment like a gentle metronome.
He dropped his bag by the entrance, toed off his shoes, and stretched with a soft groan.
His phone buzzed. A message.
Miyuki:Did you blush when I kissed you? Be honest.
He smiled as he typed back.
Yuuta:Red as a tomato. My face still hurts.
A second later:
Miyuki:You're too cute when you get flustered. I want to keep you like that forever.
He leaned back against the wall, phone still in hand, letting the glow of the screen light up his face.
This was what he loved most—not the kisses, not the teasing, not even the long walks—but this. The quiet after. The warmth that lingered in his chest like sunlight held between his ribs.
The next day arrived with the usual morning chaos. Birds chirping too loudly. The distant sound of a neighbor's dog.
Toast slightly burnt because he'd been too distracted scrolling through Miyuki's good morning selfies—each one progressively more ridiculous than the last.
She had a knack for making even messy bed-hair look intentional.
"Did you even brush it?" he asked in reply to one.
Miyuki:Nope. What are you gonna do about it? Brush it for me? ;)
He sighed, smiling like an idiot. Then he rushed to get dressed.
When he reached the school gates, she was already there.
Miyuki leaned casually against the low stone wall, her bag slung over one shoulder, sipping from a small boxed juice.
The morning light hit her just right—her hair catching the sun like strands of copper, her blouse crisp and white, her skirt neat but just slightly shorter than regulation allowed.
Whether she did that on purpose or not, Yuuta had long since stopped asking.
"You're late," she said.
"You're early."
She handed him a juice box. "I saved you grape."
He accepted it, and they walked through the gates together, side by side. They always arrived just a little earlier than the rush. Just enough time to talk before the crowds swelled.
"Did you finish the math homework?" he asked.
She gave him a sideways glance. "Define 'finish.'"
"You didn't do it, did you?"
"I started it."
He groaned.
"I was distracted. Someone kept texting me blushy faces and tomato emojis."
"Because someone kissed me and walked away like nothing happened!"
She smirked. "You wanted more?"
Yuuta nearly choked.
Miyuki laughed, linking her arm through his as they entered the classroom building. "You're so easy to tease. I love that about you."
Their classroom was already half-full. A few students greeted them—some with knowing smiles, others with curious glances.
Everyone knew they were together. It wasn't a secret. But it wasn't a spectacle either. Just something warm and quiet, like the way they'd always been.
As they took their seats—him by the window, her two rows behind—Yuuta caught a folded note on his desk.
He opened it.
"You better walk me home again today. Or I'll sulk. Seriously. I'll do the pout and everything."
He glanced back. Miyuki didn't look his way, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitching.
He mouthed, Of course.
And she mouthed back, Good.
The school day passed in its usual blur of lectures, notebooks, and stolen glances. At lunch, they shared an onigiri in the courtyard.
During P.E., Miyuki peeked through the gym windows to watch him run laps, waving dramatically when he noticed her.
By the time the final bell rang, the promise of another walk together tugged at Yuuta like a string tied gently to his heart.
They met by the shoe lockers.
"I was thinking," Miyuki began, slipping on her shoes, "maybe we could go to the bookstore today. You said you needed that new volume, right?"
He nodded. "And maybe get some snacks?"
"I like the way you think."
They walked the same long path again—but this time, the light felt a little softer, and the space between them a little smaller.
Every word they exchanged felt like an extension of a conversation that had started months ago and never really paused. It was comfort, wrapped in affection.
At the bookstore, Miyuki trailed her fingers along the spines of manga volumes, humming quietly to herself.
Yuuta watched her from the next aisle. It struck him, not for the first time, how lucky he was to have her—not just as a girlfriend, but as a presence in his life that felt like home.
She suddenly turned. "Found something."
She held up a volume titled 'How to Flirt Like a Heroine.'
He blinked. "Is that for research?"
"Obviously."
"Don't you already have enough material?"
She leaned in, stage-whispering, "You're my inspiration."
His ears turned red again.
They paid for their books and snacks, then settled at a quiet bench outside the shop. The sun was beginning its descent once more, casting long golden streaks across the pavement.
Miyuki unwrapped a chocolate stick snack and held it between her lips.
"Want a bite?"
Yuuta stared.
"Too lewd?" she asked, eyes innocent.
"I-I'm not falling for that again."
"But you want to."
"Doesn't mean I will."
She leaned closer.
He caved.
Just as he leaned in, she pulled the snack away and kissed him instead. It was quick. Teasing. But real.
She pulled back, looking satisfied. "You're so predictable."
He sighed, laughing despite himself. "You're impossible."
"And you love it."
He didn't deny it.
They walked slower on the way back. The streets grew quieter, lit by the gentle buzz of streetlamps and the occasional chirp of early crickets. Yuuta walked her all the way to her apartment building this time.
As they reached the front gate, Miyuki turned to face him.
"Walk me again tomorrow?"
"You don't even have to ask."
"Still. I like hearing it."
"I'll walk you home every day."
She smiled. "Even when we're old?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Even then."
She stepped closer. Not teasing. Not playful. Just close.
Her arms looped around his waist, and she buried her face briefly in his chest. "Okay," she whispered. "Then I'll keep loving you every day too."
He held her. Right there, under the streetlamp, where the night wrapped around them like a gentle curtain.
Some things didn't need jokes or blushes or games.
Some moments just needed silence—and the feeling of someone choosing you, again and again.