The winter sun spilled gently into the school courtyard, casting long shadows from the leafless trees. Yuki stood by the vending machine, struggling to decide between milk tea or hot cocoa, cheeks a little red from the cold. She looked up when she noticed a familiar tall figure approaching — silver-haired, calm, composed, and quietly radiant in his usual layered black hoodie and coat.

Itsuomi.

He raised a hand in greeting, stepping into her line of sight. He didn’t sign anything at first — just looked at her with that subtle smile of his, the one that always made her heart do a small, disoriented flip.

Yuki signed a small “hello,” her expression brightening, surprised to see him out here on his own.

He leaned slightly forward and tapped the vending machine, pointing to the hot cocoa. Then he looked back at her, pulling out his phone and quickly typing something before showing it to her.

“You always hesitate between the two, but you end up choosing cocoa every time.”

She laughed silently, cheeks puffing up. He wasn’t wrong.

Itsuomi handed her the can after purchasing it, and she bowed her head with a grateful smile. Then, he pocketed his phone and instead began signing — slowly, carefully, every gesture precise for her to understand clearly.

“Yuki… I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

She blinked.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

Silence lingered for a beat too long. Not because she didn’t understand, but because her heart had suddenly jumped up to her ears. Her hands instinctively flew to her chest, cheeks now burning. “Eh??”

Itsuomi tilted his head, chuckling softly. “Want me to sign it again?” he says with his hands, clearly ready to repeat it as many times as needed. There was no trace of embarrassment in his face — just pure sincerity, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Yuki furiously shook her head — and then nodded. Then shook it again. Finally, she pressed her hands to her cheeks and nodded yes, smiling so wide it practically spilled into her eyes.

Itsuomi smiled, eyes fond. He reached out gently, brushing his gloved knuckles against her cheek — warm, quiet affection.

And in the middle of the courtyard, with the winter wind curling around them like a blessing, everything felt perfectly still.