The rupture had been sudden, a painful, inexplicable tear in the fabric of their closeness.
After the heartbreak, everything Ren had known had tilted off its axis.
Hina had begun to drift, her once-steady gaze now skittish and avoiding. Her excuses—flimsy, hurried things—barely masked her retreat.
And then, the cruelest twist: Reiji,the very person who had demanded she cut ties with Ren, now stood by her side as her boyfriend.
Hina had obeyed him, and the silence she left behind was deafening.
Crushed, Ren found himself marooned in the middle of a park. It was the dead center of winter. He had no coat, no hat, and no umbrella. The snow was falling in dense, continuous sheets, insulating the world in a cold, heavy silence. It settled on his exposed shoulders and matted his hair, pressing down on him as if nature itself were a tangible, relentless weight.
"I'm such a fool," he rasped, the word dissolving instantly in the frigid air. "I'm pathetic."
He had chosen caution, thinking that a slow, patient approach was the way to earn her heart. He'd believed that simply being there was enough, that one day he would have the right moment to tell her everything. Now, that moment was gone—vanished, like the last vestiges of warmth in his body.
On a desperate impulse, he pulled out his phone and called Daiki.
Ren's voice was a low, brittle sound against the howl of the wind.
"It's over. She's with someone else… She didn't even have the decency to tell me herself."
Daiki didn't need to process the shock. He reacted instantly.
"Where are you?"
When Ren gave him the location, it was minutes, not many more, before Daiki materialized. He was panting, his chest heaving from the sprint.
He pulled up short, pausing in stunned silence when he saw Ren—a statue carved from snow and defeat, utterly still and heartbreakingly lost. How long has he been out here? He's going to freeze solid.
"Bro… what in the hell are you doing?" Daiki's voice was rough with concern. He yanked off his thick winter coat and, without a word, draped it hastily over Ren's snow-covered shoulders.
"Stay right here," he muttered before turning and bolting back the way he came.
He was back almost immediately, holding a warm, neatly folded sweater.
"Put this on, dumbass. Now."
Ren grabbed it slowly, pulling the wool over his head. The immediate warmth against his frozen skin was a sharp, almost painful shock, but he remained wordless, his gaze fixed on the endless white.
Daiki sank onto the bench beside him, the cold wood biting through his trousers. He didn't press. He simply sat and listened to the fractured story until Ren fell quiet.
"She's just… unlucky, you know," Daiki finally broke the silence, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Someday, she'll open her eyes and realize the kind of man she threw away to dusts carefree. She'll come crawling back to you saying—'I'm really sorry, Ren,' you'll see. It's a certainty."
A small, strained smile, barely a tremor on Ren's lips, acknowledged the loyalty.
Are you a foreteller or what..?
Yes, I am.. wanna know yours.?, Daiki continued,"To be honest," Daiki grinned, nudging Ren hard in the ribs, "if I were a girl, I'd marry you and have, like, five kids. You're too good to waste, man."
The sound that escaped Ren was a weak, soft chuckle, the first genuine sound he'd made all evening. "Thanks, idiot."
Daiki knew the truth: the road ahead would be long and agonizing. But he would anchor himself right here and stay for as long as Ren needed. After a minute more, Daiki stood up, stretching his stiff legs.
"It's getting colder. Don't sit out here too long, you hear me? Go home soon, alright? I got a few errands."
"Yeah… thanks," Ren mumbled, pulling the borrowed sweater tighter.
And then, just like that, Ren was alone again.
He stayed rooted to the bench, swathed in Daiki's bulky sweater, watching the hypnotic fall of the snow. He felt the cold air biting at his face.
Then, a sudden, confusing shift. The stinging pellets of snow stopped hitting his face. He blinked, peering up, startled.
It was an umbrella.
Held perfectly steady above his head by a girl with striking silver hair.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice soft and gentle.
As she leaned slightly to maximize the shelter she provided and asked him, "Are you alright? You'll catch a terrible cold sitting here like this."
Ren looked up, his confusion deepening into alarm. Her eyes were placid, a calm gray that mirrored the winter sky, and utterly kind.
Why is she approaching me?
"Why do you care?" he muttered.
The question was not meant to be rude—it was a defense mechanism, a cold, sharp sound born from deep-seated pain.
She didn't flinch or pull back. Her expression remained steady.
Without offering any reply, she gently placed the umbrella's handle in his hands.
And said "Just hold this umbrella, I'll be right back" and she simply turned to walk away.
Minutes later, she returned. She carried a steaming paper cup in each hand.
She extended one toward him. "Here. I thought a warm drink might help."
Ren stared at her, utterly perplexed.
Is she crazy?
"Why are you doing this? I'm a complete stranger."
"I just… felt like you needed it," she said, shrugging her slender shoulders. "My instincts told me to stop."
"What made you think that?"
She didn't answer the question, only looked down at her feet, the silence eloquent.
Ren immediately realized how harsh and ungrateful his questioning had sounded.
A wave of shame hit him. "Sorry… I didn't mean to snap. You've been incredibly kind. Thank you. The drink… it's really helping." The heat from the cup was a soothing anchor in his hand.
She smiled faintly, and the effect was like a tiny flicker of sunlight in the gray evening. "If you feel better, then I'm glad."
"I'm Takahashi Ren. And… it's honestly nice to meet someone so kind like you.
Can I ask your name?"
It's.."Minazuki Akari."
"That's a beautiful name," he said sincerely, feeling a sudden, unexpected ease. "It suits you… kind, calm, like a small, steady light in the dark."
She offered a gentle smile again. "You really didn't have an umbrella?"
"Nope."
"Then take mine. Please. My house is very close, just a five-minute walk from here."
Ren hesitated, clutching the handle. "Wait, Minazuki-san—won't you get drenched?"
"It's alright. And please, just call me Akari,"
she said, already starting to walk slowly away.
"Wait!" Ren stood up quickly, calling after her. He couldn't let her go like that. "Let me walk you. At the very least, let me share the umbrella."
Akari turned back, a look of mild surprise on her face, then nodded. "If you don't mind."
The two walked side by side down the park path, the snow continuing its silent fall, both sheltered beneath the small, shared dome of the umbrella. The air between them was quiet, but for the soft shush-shush of their shoes on the fresh snow.
Ren glanced down at her silver hair, the color of moonlight on water. "You're genuinely kind. I mean it. You approached a total stranger sitting on a bench, gave me your umbrella, bought me a warm drink…"
"You're praising me too much," she said, a delicate blush rising on her cheeks. She was looking away, embarrassed by the attention. "I just did what anyone with a brain would do."
"No," Ren contradicted softly, shaking his head. "Not everyone would."
Ren smiled, a genuine, if still fragile, expression. "I want to repay you. Can I treat you to something you like?"
"Eh? It's really okay. I just did what felt right."
She sounded almost flustered by the offer.
"Come on," Ren insisted, his tone now light and half-joking. "Don't take all the credit. Let me do something, too."
Akari considered this, tilting her head. "Hmm… then… ramen?"
"Deal. The best ramen in town. When are you free?"
"Sunday evening?"
"Perfect. I'll text you the time. I'll see you then."
When they reached her modest, brightly lit house, Ren gave her a heartfelt smile. "Thanks again, Akari-san. For everything. You really saved me tonight."
She returned the smile, her eyes warm. "See you Sunday evening, Ren-san."
He ran off through the darkening snow, his pace quickened by a new energy, clutching her umbrella—a simple, black object—like it was something irreplaceable and precious.
When Ren got home, he placed the dripping umbrella by the door. He stared at it for a second, a small, curious thought taking root in his mind.
She didn't ask for it back.
…I wonder why.
Meanwhile…
Minazuki stepped into the warmth of her house, shedding the winter air.
"Mom, I'm home."
"Ohh dear, welcome home."
"Where's your umbrella, Akari?" her mother asked, emerging from the kitchen.
"I lent it to a friend," she replied easily.
"Oh? And how did you get home?"
"He walked me. We shared his."
Her mother raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You should have invited him in! The snow is awful."
Akari's face warmed instantly, the blush spreading down her neck. "He had something urgent at home… it was late."
"How responsible," her mom chuckled. "But didn't you go out to buy the garlic for dinner? I finished cooking already."
Akari blinked, glancing down at her empty hands. "Oh… I forgot."
She went quiet, but inside, she was holding the image of Ren's grateful, newly lit smile. She could still feel the phantom weight of his hand near hers on the umbrella handle.
Is he okay now…?
She climbed into bed, thinking about their brief, strange encounter. She couldn't remember the last time someone—a stranger, a friend, anyone—had truly listened to her voice like Ren had.
...Even in silence.
Before she realized it, the gentle exhaustion of the evening pulled her under, drifting peacefully off to sleep.
MAYBE HEALING BEGINS WITH SOMEONE SIMPLY STAYING ~
«Akari means a warm light. Most used name in Japan for girls»