The scent of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air, mingling with warm vanilla and a faint hint of cinnamon.
The small café on the corner of Sakura Street wasn't particularly trendy or flashy — more of a local favorite, with soft lighting, worn-in wooden booths, and music playing low in the background. It was the kind of place where time moved slower, and voices stayed hushed without anyone needing to say "quiet down."
Lily stepped inside first, her school bag slung over one shoulder. Her legs still ached faintly, but the walk had felt good. She had chosen this café for a reason — not too loud, not too crowded. A place where she could breathe.
Aki was already seated at a booth near the back, sketchbook closed in front of him, a single iced coffee untouched on the table. He glanced up when Lily arrived and gave her a small nod.
She smiled and slid into the seat across from him.
Moments later, Riku came in, dramatically juggling two iced drinks and a paper bag. "I got snacks!" he announced too loudly for the setting, earning a scolding glance from the barista.
Mira trailed behind, sipping a bubble tea and tossing her hair over one shoulder. "You better not have eaten all the fries this time."
"I didn't— okay, maybe one," Riku admitted, sliding into the booth beside Lily. Mira sat next to Aki, leaving them a bit cramped, their bags piled at their feet.
Notebooks and papers came out one by one. Half of them were covered in unrelated doodles — mostly Mira's.
"So," Lily said, flipping to a clean page, "climate policies, right?"
Aki nodded quietly, tapping his pen. "We could divide it into regional effects. Historical failures. And possible future solutions."
"Whoa," Riku muttered. "You sound like a professor."
Lily glanced sideways. "Told you he's smart."
Aki blushed and looked down again. "It's not that deep."
"Oh, it is that deep," Mira smirked, sipping loudly through her straw.
They began planning — mostly Lily and Aki trading ideas, with Riku chiming in occasionally and Mira sketching cute "Earth" mascots in the margins, claiming they would help "sell the message."
But halfway through, Riku and Mira started bickering about font choices and "presentation aesthetics."
"Comic Sans is cursed," Mira hissed.
"It's ironically charming!" Riku argued.
"Ironically ugly."
While they squabbled, Lily leaned her arms on the table and looked at Aki again.
He wasn't sketching this time. He was just… listening. Quietly watching everyone, occasionally glancing at her as if to confirm she was still there.
She lowered her voice. "You're good at this. Group work, I mean."
He gave a tiny shrug. "Not really. I just don't want to mess things up."
"You're not."
He looked at her. For once, directly.
Something unspoken passed between them — fragile, but sincere.
"You're not the person I expected when you first sat beside me," he said softly.
"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "And what kind of person did you expect?"
"Someone who would walk away. Eventually."
The weight of that sat between them.
Lily stared at him, heart aching in a way she hadn't expected. She wanted to say something — something that could undo the years that had shaped that sentence.
But instead, she just reached for her drink and said, gently:
"I'm still here."
Aki's eyes widened slightly.
Then he smiled — barely, but it was real.
"…Thanks."
Across the booth, Mira finally declared war on Riku by flicking a french fry at his forehead, earning a yelp and nearly knocking over his drink.
The moment between Lily and Aki broke like a wave against laughter.
But something had shifted.
And neither of them minded that the silence between them wasn't so lonely anymore.