Ren and Aoi walked side by side, the silence between them filled with unspoken thoughts, both still secretly replaying the moment on the bus — the warmth of that accidental touch, the way their hearts had raced, the soft panic in each other’s eyes. Ren kept his gaze on the ground, trying to will the heat from his cheeks. Why does this feel so different? It was just an accident… wasn’t it?

When Haruto’s house came into view, Aoi let out a quiet breath of relief — not because she wanted the walk to end, but because she didn’t know how much longer she could bear the strange flutter in her chest. The house was impressive: a sleek, modern two-story home with large windows and a neat garden filled with manicured bushes, stone lanterns, and a small koi pond where orange and white fish glided beneath floating lily pads. The Fujimura family’s modest home felt worlds away from this.

Haruto was already waiting at the front gate, waving them over with his usual cheerful grin. “Yo! Took you two long enough! We were about to send a search party!”

Aoi smiled politely, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry… the bus was slow.”

Ren nodded, adding quietly, “Yeah. Sorry.”

From inside the house, familiar voices called out — Yui and Daichi had already arrived

The living room of Haruto’s house felt like a warm embrace after the long walk. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting soft, golden patterns on the smooth wooden floor. A faint breeze stirred the white curtains, and the sweet, clean scent of the garden wafted in — a mixture of damp earth, jasmine, and pine. The gentle clink of a wind chime filled the air, its clear notes matching the peaceful rhythm of koi gliding lazily in the pond outside.

Ren stepped in first, hesitating as he took in the space. So different from home… he thought, eyeing the polished floors, the subtle elegance of scroll paintings and hand-carved shelves. Haruto’s place feels like something from a magazine.

Aoi followed quietly, smoothing the hem of her skirt as if to steady herself. It’s beautiful here… but why am I so nervous? Her heart still beat faster than it should — not from the walk, but from the memory of Ren asleep against her shoulder, the warmth of his hand brushing hers. I hope he’s forgotten about it by now…

Yui, sprawled across a cushion near the low table, raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Look at these two — took your sweet time getting here. What’s the story? Miss the bus on purpose?”

Ren’s ears went pink. “N-no. The bus was just… slow.”

Aoi ducked her head slightly. “And it was nice weather for a walk,” she added softly, not daring to meet Yui’s gaze.

Daichi snorted, lounging back with his arms behind his head. “Sure, sure. I bet it was the best walk, huh?”

Haruto, grinning, cut in before Ren could stammer a reply. “Come on, guys. Enough teasing. We’re here to plan the best festival event this school’s ever seen — remember?”

Everyone gathered at the low table, where Haruto unrolled a large sheet of drawing paper and clicked open a marker. The scent of the ink mingled with the faint aroma of green tea from the tray he’d brought out earlier. Aoi’s fingers fidgeted with the corner of the paper as the group leaned in.

Yui tapped her chin. “So? What are we thinking? A café’s been done to death. Haunted house, too. We need something fresh — something that makes people stop and say, ‘I want to go there.’”

Aoi hesitated, then spoke, her voice a little stronger now. “What about… a tea house, but with storytelling? We could decorate it like an old Kyoto inn. Maybe even wear yukata.”

Ren’s eyes lit up. “That’s a good idea. It could feel really authentic. And the first-years could relax there, not just rush through.”

Daichi leaned forward, smirking. “How about we add a twist? Like creepy folktales. Or… we make it a haunted tea house.”

Haruto clapped his hands, eyes gleaming. “Yes! Imagine: dim lanterns, shadow puppets, eerie music. We serve tea, and maybe one of us jumps out at just the right moment.”

Laughter filled the room, mixing with the sound of rustling leaves outside. The tension between Ren and Aoi seemed to melt a little as the group’s excitement grew. Aoi glanced at Ren, catching how his smile reached his eyes, and felt her heart skip. When did I start noticing these little things so much?

Ren, meanwhile, kept stealing quick looks at Aoi as she leaned over the sketches, her hair falling softly by her cheeks, the sunlight tracing a halo along the edge of her face. She’s… beautiful, he thought before shaking himself. Focus, Ren. This is about the festival.

They spent hours sketching decorations, jotting down supply lists, and tossing ideas back and forth, their laughter echoing in the warm, sunlit room. The garden beyond the windows seemed to listen quietly, the koi drifting in their pond, the wind chime singing a soft, silver tune.

By the time noon neared, Haruto stood and stretched. “I’ll make sandwiches. Keep brainstorming — we’ve got something awesome starting here!”

As he left, the others relaxed, the air around them lighter now, filled with the easy closeness of friends dreaming up something together — and with undercurrents of feelings just beginning to awaken.