"Some smiles don't shine — they survive."
---
The next few days passed like ripples in still water.
Hana stayed close to Mio without crowding her, speaking just enough to keep the connection alive. They ate lunch together again — sometimes under the trees, sometimes near the archery range, other times at the back of the library where sunlight slanted through dust-moted air.
There was comfort there, in the slow return of what once was. But Hana couldn't shake the sense that she was tiptoeing across a frozen lake, terrified of cracking the surface.
Mio's smile remained gentle. Warm. But something behind it felt… not quite real.
Like it was stitched into place.
---
Lunch Break — Present Day
"Do you ever fake your smiles?" Hana asked one afternoon, the question slipping out before she could stop it.
Mio looked up from her bento, startled.
"Excuse me?"
Hana panicked. "Sorry—forget it. That was a weird thing to ask."
"No," Mio said slowly. "It's not weird. Just unexpected."
A pause.
Then, softly: "Yes. I do."
She picked up a piece of tamagoyaki with her chopsticks, stared at it for a moment, then said:
"I think I started around fourth grade. It's easier to smile than explain why you're sad."
Hana nodded. Her chest tightened. The old Mio — the one who stood alone on the rooftop before her death — had worn that same expression. Quiet, composed, but far too used to loneliness.
"Have you ever smiled so much you forgot how to stop?" Mio asked suddenly.
Hana blinked. "No."
Mio gave her a wistful look. "You're lucky."
---
Flashback — Middle School, First Year
The archery club was mostly empty after practice.
Mio sat on the floor of the gym, her legs folded, sweat dampening her bangs. Hana knelt beside her, both of them laughing at nothing in particular.
"You missed five shots in a row today," Hana teased.
"My arm was tired," Mio said, frowning. "And sensei was watching."
"He watches everyone."
"He watches me too much. Like he expects me to hit the bullseye just because I tied my hair up."
"Maybe it's the hair," Hana joked.
Mio rolled her eyes. "Don't even start."
Their laughter quieted. Hana leaned back on her hands, looking up at the gym ceiling.
"You know," she said, "you don't have to be perfect all the time."
Mio turned to her.
"I like you even when you mess up," Hana added.
There was a pause. Mio's cheeks flushed.
"I'm not used to hearing that," she said.
Hana didn't understand it then — why those words seemed to catch in Mio's throat, why she clutched her bow a little tighter.
But now, years later, she did.
---
Present — After School
It was raining lightly.
Hana and Mio stood under a tree near the school gate, waiting for the drizzle to pass.
"You don't have an umbrella again?" Hana asked.
"I didn't check the weather."
Hana sighed and handed hers over. "Take it."
"What about you?"
"I don't mind the rain."
Mio hesitated. "We could share."
Hana's heart skipped.
"…Okay."
They walked side by side, close enough that their arms touched occasionally. The umbrella wasn't quite wide enough, so their shoulders bumped. Hana could smell Mio's shampoo — floral, faintly like lavender.
"I missed this," Mio said quietly.
Hana turned to her.
Mio wasn't smiling.
Just looking at her with that soft, sad gaze — like she wanted to say something but didn't know how.
"I did too," Hana replied.
---
Flashback — Middle School, Second Year
They sat in the infirmary together, Mio nursing a sprained wrist from practice. Hana had stayed behind with her.
"You didn't have to wait," Mio said.
"You looked like you were about to cry."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Mio fell silent. Then, after a moment:
"My parents are going to be mad."
"Why? It's just a sprain."
"Because I messed up."
Hana frowned. "You didn't mess up. It was an accident."
"They don't care. I was supposed to perform in the regional showcase next week."
Mio's voice was tight. Controlled.
Hana reached out and touched her fingers.
"Then we'll just get through it together," she said.
That was the first time Mio had cried in front of her.
Just one tear. Silent. But it meant everything.
---
Present — That Night
Hana couldn't sleep.
She kept thinking of Mio's face in the rain. Her expression not as open as it had been years ago. Her smile thinner, quieter. Like she had already learned how to hide everything again.
The first cracks were already forming.
Hana stared at the ceiling of her bedroom.
> I have to reach her before they become walls.
She opened her notebook.
Under her list, she added:
Make her laugh again
Remind her she doesn't have to smile
Stay even when she says nothing
---
Next Morning — Archery Club Sign-Ups
The hallway was loud with students rushing to sign up for clubs. Hana stood before the archery club sign-up sheet, pen hovering.
Last time, she joined out of pride.
Ambition.
She pushed everyone away to become someone "worthy."
This time…
Mio approached, a small towel over her shoulder.
"You're joining?" she asked.
Hana hesitated. Then nodded.
"I want to," she said.
Mio studied her for a long moment.
"Do you… want to win this time?"
Hana shook her head.
"I just want to stand beside you again."
Mio's eyes widened. Then lowered. Her voice came out small.
"Then let's stand together."
---
Closing Scene
Later that day, Hana found Mio sitting on the rooftop during lunch.
She wasn't reading. Just staring at the sky.
Hana sat beside her without a word.
Mio didn't look at her, but she leaned the smallest bit in her direction. Enough to feel her presence. Enough to know she wasn't alone.
"I'm glad you're here," Mio whispered.
Hana looked at her.
For the first time since the reset, Mio wasn't smiling.
But she looked peaceful.
And that — that felt real.
---
End of Chapter 3
---