Along the straight road by Shiodome Bay in Tokyo.
Yukinoshita Yukino's gaze lingered on the girl standing beside Minamoto Senya.
More than anything, her eyes were fixed on the bouquet of flowers the girl carried in her arms.
In all the years she had known him, had she ever once received flowers from him?
Among the ribbons, the little Christmas canes, and the stuffed toys nestled in the arrangement, what stood out most were, of course, the flowers themselves.
The bouquet was a careful combination of three different blooms.
Red roses and white lilies dominated, with a scattering of pink baby's breath serving as an accent.
From a young age, Yukino had learned various graceful disciplines alongside her mother, one of them being flower arranging. She was not a master by any means, but she knew enough to interpret the language hidden in flowers.
Red roses were universally known as the flowers of love, symbols of deep passion and burning affection.
White lilies signified purity, solemnity, hearts in harmony—emblems of eternal bonds and lasting love.
And pink baby's breath was romance itself, the gentle companion bloom that represented intimacy and devotion between lovers.
Together, the meaning was unmistakable:
A love as fiery as flame. We are destined for each other. I want to be with you forever.
For one of the rare times in her life, Yukino's mind went utterly blank.
This was the kind of description one would use for a person struck by some sudden, overwhelming shock. Yet here she was, on what seemed like just another ordinary evening, feeling exactly that.
Reason whispered to her that she should be rational, that she and Senya were only friends, and that it was wrong to let herself be swept away by such emotions.
But her heart would not listen. It dragged her back to the night she had returned to Japan, when she had summoned her courage and hinted that she would make time for him… only to be met with his dismissive, half-hearted reply.
She couldn't stop herself from comparing that moment to this one.
Christmas Eve, wrapped in atmosphere. A beautiful bouquet. A gentle breeze. A moonlit walk.
And just the two of them.
Yukino's thoughts drifted dangerously, her mind circling around the true nature of their relationship.
A secret unease spilled into the water, ripples widening beyond her control.
For Minamoto Senya, who prided himself on being both sharp-witted and socially adept, this situation—taking a lonely piano prodigy, who lacked her mother's company, out for a walk, and then coincidentally running into his childhood friend's family—was little more than a mild surprise.
After a few polite greetings, he cheerfully made introductions for both sides.
"Mrs. Yukinoshita, this is my friend, Tōma Kazusa…"
"And Kazusa, this is my childhood friend Yukinoshita Yukino, along with her sister and their mother…"
There was once a saying about smooth talkers: three sentences and you could make someone spend a fortune.
And then there was Senya—an unintentional charmer whose casual use of the words childhood friend was enough to shatter the frosty composure of the so-called Ice Queen in an instant.
Perhaps it was just the night breeze, but even the little ahoge atop Yukino's head seemed to sway faintly.
She pulled her scrutinizing gaze away from the unfamiliar girl, returning her attention to Senya, though she still held her tongue.
It was Kazusa who broke the silence. Though she felt uneasy meeting strangers, knowing they were all acquaintances of Senya gave her courage. She slipped off her mask and, a little awkwardly, greeted them:
"…Hello."
"Hello, hello," Yukinoshita Haruno replied on behalf of her family, though her sharp eyes remained fixed on Kazusa's revealed face, thoughtful and probing.
Unlike her younger sister, Haruno was more open and direct, and her curiosity showed without restraint.
Kazusa shrank back under the attention. Almost instinctively, she repeated a gesture she often used during interviews—half-hiding behind Senya's shoulder.
That small movement was enough to spark fresh speculation in certain watchful eyes.
"Ah!" Haruno suddenly brightened, repeating the name Tōma Kazusa in her mind before it clicked. "Kazusa… didn't you compete in the Tokyo Academy Piano Competition not long ago?"
Though she framed it as a question, her tone was certain.
Kazusa blinked, then nodded.
It had been one of the many contests her mother entered her into—jointly hosted by several Tokyo music academies. Focused on classical repertoire, the competition wasn't world-class, but it had some prestige in Japan.
Just like countless other times, she had participated, performed, and walked away with the junior division championship.
"I thought so." Haruno's smile bloomed. "I competed in that very same contest! We even shared the stage, though I only managed third place in the end."
Kazusa tried to recall her but came up blank.
It wasn't malice—she simply invested all of herself in the piano, with little room left for the fleeting details of others.
"…I'm sorry. I don't really remember."
Her words were soft, honest, and without guile.
Yet, by pure accident, she had achieved something remarkable: freezing the flawless smile of the ever-composed Haruno in place.
The conversation died instantly.
"…Ah, I think I've got something in my eye."
Senya made a show of rubbing the corner of his eye with a knuckle, bowing his head to hide the grin tugging at his lips.
This was like watching nature itself checkmate a schemer.
Haruno hadn't expected to be shut down so cleanly.
Kukuku…
Thanks to her eldest daughter's slip, Mrs. Yukinoshita remembered exactly who Kazusa was now—the daughter of the renowned pianist Tōma Yōko, already famous for sweeping youth competitions.
But her identity wasn't what concerned Yukinoshita's mother most, nor was the rare sight of Haruno being caught off guard.
What weighed on her mind was her youngest daughter.
The child she had carried for ten months, the one she had raised with her own hands.
Even without looking directly at her face, even while Yukino stood a half-step behind, silent as ever, she could sense her daughter's emotions.
And what she sensed now unsettled her.
She forced a gentle smile, her lips curving as she spoke. "Senya-kun, did you just finish dinner?"
Senya, suppressing his laughter, nodded politely. "Yes, we thought we'd take a short walk to help digest."
"The bag in your hand—that's a small gift from the restaurant, isn't it?"
"You can tell that?"
"Well, the name and phone number of the restaurant are printed right on the bag, after all."
Even under streetlights, the writing wasn't particularly large. Her perception and eyesight, clearly, were remarkable.
At those words, Yukino's thoughts froze. Lightning flashed behind her eyes.
If the bag was just a complimentary gift from the restaurant, then… what about the bouquet?
The emphasis Senya had placed on the word childhood friend had already softened her frosty mask.
Now, realizing the flowers Kazusa carried might be nothing more than a cheap, after-dinner giveaway rather than a heartfelt present, Yukino's icy façade melted completely.
Her expression softened to the Yukino of everyday life.
If… if it was only dinner together…
"Yukino."
Her mother had turned, gazing at her with gentle, downcast eyes.
Inside, she sighed. Still too young…
"Say goodbye to Senya-kun," her mother prompted. "We should be heading home."
"…Goodbye," Yukino said at last, stepping forward.
"See you," Senya replied with a warm wave.
Mrs. Yukinoshita, in the dignified tone of a parent, offered, "It's late already. Would you like me to give you two a ride?"
"Thank you, but Kazusa's mother already arranged for a car," Senya explained.
"Then another time—please come to our home for dinner. Last time I cooked. Next time, perhaps we can enjoy Yukino's cooking."
After a round of polite farewells, the Yukinoshita family turned and departed.
As they walked their separate way, Senya glanced sidelong at Kazusa. She seemed wholly unaffected by the encounter.
"Want to keep walking a little longer?" he asked.
Kazusa tilted her head. "You want to go home already?"
He shook his head. "I was more worried about your stomach. How's it now?"
"…I told you, it's fine."
"Alright. Then let's walk a bit more."
Meanwhile, the Yukinoshita women rode silently in the car back home.
Haruno, with her easygoing nature, brushed off Kazusa's blunt dismissal without a care. But both Yukino and their mother had their minds tangled in other thoughts, leaving the rest of the ride quieter than usual.
When they finally arrived, Mrs. Yukinoshita beckoned: "Yukino, come with me."
At the entryway, Haruno leaned close to her sister. "Need me to back you up?"
Yukino shook her head. "No, you should rest. I don't want to drag you into it."
Still, Haruno tagged along anyway, dropping onto the sofa in the living room beside her.
Mrs. Yukinoshita sighed softly as she looked at her youngest daughter. "Yukino, I've told you many times before, haven't I? In public, especially at important moments, never let your inner feelings show on your face. Don't let emotions cloud your judgment."
Haruno peeled a mandarin in silence, popping a slice into her mouth.
Yukino lowered her gaze. "…I'm sorry, Mother. I disappointed you."
Her mother shook her head. "It's not about disappointment. Tonight was just a chance meeting with friends—nothing serious. But one day, when you're grown and standing as the representative of the Yukinoshita family, if you remain as you are now, you'll surely suffer for it."
Yukino could not argue. Her sense of correctness bordered on stubbornness, applied as much to herself as to others. She could not promise what she wasn't sure she could deliver.
"Alright, alright, enough of that. That future is still far away," Haruno interjected, breaking the tension as she held out a mandarin slice. "Eat this, it's sweet. And besides, even if that time comes, won't the Yukinoshita family still have me around?"
Her playful words defused the weight of the moment, drawing even a smile from their mother.
"Little Yukino, you too—don't always wear that frown. Take after your sister a little. Even if she lost to Tōma Kazusa in piano, there are plenty of things she's better at. Like aikido, for example. I wonder if that proud little prodigy would cry if Haruno threw her onto the mat."
At that, their mother arched a brow and tapped Haruno's forehead with her finger. Haruno only stuck out her tongue with a grin.
"And as for tonight," Haruno added, leaning close to whisper in Yukino's ear, "sure, Senya spent Christmas Eve with Kazusa… but you two are the ones who've already been close enough to visit each other's rooms, right?"
Yukino's cheeks burned crimson.
She and Senya were just friends—yet her sister's teasing words made it sound far more intimate, as though a line had been crossed.
Flustered, she stood abruptly. "Mother, I'll be going to my room."
"Wait a moment," her mother said gently. "For the New Year shrine visit coming up, if you have other plans, you don't have to accompany me. Haruno can go instead."
Yukino understood the implication at once.
She had wanted to refuse, but recalling what had just happened, she simply nodded in agreement.
"Children do grow up quickly, don't they," Haruno said in mock gravity once her sister had left.
Their mother chuckled softly. "And you're still a child yourself."
Before, Mrs. Yukinoshita hadn't felt urgency about her daughter's connection with Minamoto Senya. After all, they were both still young.
But tonight's chance encounter, and Yukino's reaction, made her realize something: times were changing. Children today matured faster than ever.
And perhaps, some things couldn't be put off for too long.\
..
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