It rained the next day.
Not the kind of heavy storm that chased people inside, but the soft, steady kind that turned the world into a watercolor painting—blurred edges, silver skies, reflections on pavement.
Most students stayed indoors during lunch, gathering near heaters or whispering over warm tea bottles.
But Himari and Haruki… slipped away.
They didn't say where they were going. They just knew.
---
The rooftop garden was empty—abandoned for the season, damp benches and wind-chimes gently ringing in the mist.
Haruki held an umbrella, large enough for two. Himari stood beside him, hugging a small thermos of tea.
"I like the rain," she said softly, watching it drip from the railings.
"Why?" he asked.
She paused. "Because it makes everything quieter. Like the world slows down just enough to breathe."
He nodded. "That's why I sketch on rainy days."
She turned to him. "You do?"
He pulled his sketchbook from his bag, flipping through pages. "I like how shadows shift when the light is dull. And how people look different in the rain—softer. Like they're remembering something."
She peered at one of his pages. A girl in uniform, standing under an umbrella.
"…That's me."
Haruki gave a shy nod. "From last month. I saw you waiting outside the library. You looked like you were dreaming."
Himari's cheeks flushed. She didn't know what to say.
So she handed him her thermos.
He blinked. "What's this?"
"Try it."
He took a sip. It was sweet—and a little too hot—but warm in the nicest way.
"Ginger and plum," she said. "My grandmother's recipe. She used to make it when I was little, especially when I felt nervous or scared."
Haruki looked at her. "Are you scared now?"
She hesitated. "A little."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want this to be a moment that fades."
He turned toward her, the umbrella tilting slightly, shielding them from the soft drizzle falling around them.
"It won't fade," he said. "Not if we keep choosing it. Choosing this. You. Me."
Himari looked up into his eyes.
"…Then let's keep choosing."
And just like that, the rain didn't feel cold anymore.
---
They sat side by side, sketching together on a single page.
Himari drew a garden. Haruki drew the sky.
Her hands moved with careful lines, shaping petals and leaves. His pencil danced above hers, filling in clouds and quiet light.
Two artists.
Two hearts.
One page.
---
When the bell rang, they stayed for just a moment longer.
Listening.
Breathing.
Remembering.
Because the world might be loud again tomorrow. The petals might fall, and tests might return, and classmates might tease or forget.
But for now, under a single umbrella, in the rain-softened silence of spring…
They were real.