-HOKKAIDO UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL, PRIVATE ROOM 314-
-7:58 PM, FEBRUARY 3, 2017-
The hospital room was dim and quiet.
Soft machine beeps filled the silence.
Snow pressed gently against the window outside, turning the city lights into blurred shapes.
Fumiko Arakawa rested against her pillows when Rikuu and Ichika entered.
Her eyes brightened immediately.
"Riku-chan."
"…Hey."
"And Komori-chan too," she said warmly.
Ichika bowed slightly.
"Good evening."
"You visit more often than some relatives," Fumiko chuckled.
Ichika smiled softly.
"I like being here."
Rikuu set a small bag of groceries on the side table.
"Tea and fruit."
"You're spoiling me," Fumiko said.
"You're sick."
"Details."
The three of them spoke quietly for a while.
About school.
About the theatre play.
About how Masayoshi had tried to eat three convenience store buns during rehearsal.
"Did he succeed?" Fumiko asked.
"…Unfortunately," Rikuu muttered.
Ichika laughed quietly.
After a few minutes—
Fumiko studied the two of them carefully.
Then she said,
"Riku-chan, could you check the vending machine down the hall?"
Rikuu frowned slightly.
"…You don't need anything."
"I want juice."
"You don't even like juice."
"I might tonight."
He sighed.
"…Fine."
When he left the room—
Fumiko turned her gaze toward Ichika.
Her smile softened.
"You see through him, don't you?"
Ichika tilted her head slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"He pretends everything is fine."
Ichika nodded gently.
"Yes."
Fumiko looked toward the snowy window.
"When Rikuu was five, he cried because he couldn't save a stray kitten."
Ichika blinked.
"He found it outside during winter," Fumiko continued.
"It was freezing."
"He carried it all the way home in his jacket."
Ichika listened quietly.
"But it didn't survive the night."
Fumiko's voice grew softer.
"He cried for hours."
A small smile appeared.
"That boy hated losing anything he tried to protect."
Ichika's chest tightened slightly.
"When his mother passed away," Fumiko continued, "he stopped crying."
The room grew quiet again.
"He decided crying meant weakness."
Ichika shook her head gently.
"That's not true."
"I know."
Fumiko looked back at her.
"But he doesn't."
A pause.
"That's why I'm glad he met you."
Ichika lowered her gaze slightly.
"I'm not sure I'm strong enough to help him."
Fumiko chuckled.
"You misunderstand."
She reached out and lightly touched Ichika's hand.
"You don't have to save him."
"Then what should I do?"
Fumiko smiled warmly.
"Just stay beside him."
Footsteps returned in the hallway.
Rikuu entered with two drinks.
"You got orange juice," Fumiko said.
"You asked for juice."
She laughed softly.
"Perfect."
He placed one drink beside her bed.
Then glanced between the two of them.
"…What were you talking about?"
Ichika smiled.
"Stories."
"That's suspicious."
-AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, THEATRE CLUB STAGE-
-4:09 PM, FEBRUARY 6, 2017-
Rehearsals had intensified.
The Winter Arts Exhibition was now less than three weeks away.
Students moved around the stage adjusting props and practicing lines.
Hoshino-sensei clapped her hands.
"Everyone, places!"
The club hurried into position.
Takeda adjusted the stage lighting.
Masayoshi sat in the back row pretending to study the script.
"I'm supervising," he claimed.
"You're eating snacks," someone replied.
On stage—
Rikuu and Ichika prepared for another run of the final act.
Their movements had become more natural now.
More comfortable.
Their chemistry on stage had grown obvious.
Hoshino-sensei watched closely.
"Begin."
Rikuu delivered his lines smoothly.
Ichika responded gently.
The emotional rhythm flowed easily now.
Not forced.
Not awkward.
Takeda nodded slightly from the lighting console.
"Better pacing."
Masayoshi whispered,
"They're basically flirting on stage."
The rehearsal continued.
Scene after scene.
Until the final moment.
"I choose you," Ichika said softly.
This time—
Rikuu didn't pause as long.
But the silence that followed still filled the theatre.
Hoshino-sensei smiled.
"Good."
The club applauded lightly.
Progress was clear.
Outside the theatre windows—
Snow continued falling across Aurora Academy.
Winter deepening.
But somewhere beneath the cold—
The warmth between two people was slowly growing stronger.