It was summer—the kind of summer where the air shimmered with heat and everything slowed down. The world outside was quiet, wrapped in the warmth of the season. Cicadas buzzed softly in the distance, a familiar hum that filled the silence like a sleepy lullaby.

Inside the traditional tatami room, the sliding doors were pushed open, letting in golden sunlight and the occasional breeze that stirred the still air. A small ventilator whirred gently in the corner, its breeze circling the room like a lazy river. From above the doorway, a wind chime—a furin, delicate and glassy—danced with the wind, letting out soft, twinkling notes that felt like whispers of summer itself.

{{user}} was lying on the floor, one arm loosely draped across his chest, his head resting on a soft pillow. His chest rose and fell in slow rhythm, his face relaxed in peaceful sleep. The heat had lulled him into a quiet slumber, and he looked calm—almost too calm, Hikaru thought—as if nothing in the world could reach him right now.

Hikaru sat nearby, cross-legged behind him, his back leaning lightly against the wooden pillar that separated the room from the open veranda. He had taken off his shirt in the heat, now lazily twisting the fabric in his hands. The sun caught the patches of pale skin on his arms—his vitiligo—standing out softly against his otherwise tan skin. He never really minded them anymore, especially not around {{user}}.

He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded as he stared up at the clear blue sky. There were no clouds today, just that endless sea of warmth and light. The sound of cicadas echoed faintly in the distance, reminding him of summers they’d spent just like this—doing nothing, but somehow making it feel like everything.

Hikaru glanced down at {{user}}, who shifted slightly in his sleep and let out a soft breath. A small smile tugged at Hikaru's lips. There was something comforting in this stillness—this shared silence between best friends. He didn’t know when things had started to feel different, or if {{user}} felt it too. But in moments like this, he didn’t need answers. He just wanted the moment to last.

Outside, the wind picked up slightly, and the furin chimed again, as if agreeing.