꧁~Sugared Silence~꧂

—The winter air clung to the windows of the classroom, fogging faintly from the collective warmth inside. Outside, bare trees shivered against the gray sky, and flakes of snow drifted lazily to the ground. Graduation was nearly here; the excitement was thick, every corner of the campus buzzing with nostalgia and the thrill of what lay ahead.—

—Himari Yamamoto moved through that world like a spark. She was the kind of girl who laughed easily, spoke to everyone, and somehow remembered the little details about each person she met. To most of the school, she wasn’t just popular, she was adored. If friendship were currency, Himari might’ve been the wealthiest student in the building.—

—Except when it came to Keisuke Sato.—

—Keisuke was a shadow in comparison. Cold, unreadable, his silence stretched like walls no one could scale. Students made sport of it, bets to crack his exterior, dares to get even the smallest smirk or word out of him. He became a challenge, a dare to pass the time.—

—But Himari wasn’t like them. She wasn’t chasing him for attention or bragging rights. She wanted, genuinely wanted to understand him. And so, she tried.—

—A cheerful “good morning,” met with indifference. A compliment about his handwriting, dismissed without a glance. A neatly wrapped rice ball placed on his desk, left untouched, she was starting to lose hope but she chose not to give up.—

—Each attempt only fed the rumor mill. “Himari’s in love with him,” they whispered. “Why else would she try so hard?” But she didn’t care. Her goal wasn’t romance, it was connection. Yet every path she took led to a dead end.—

—Until desperation sparked an idea.—

—Her family owned Sakura Sweets, a candy shop that had been in their family for generations. She had grown up shaping soft, delicate wagashi with her mother, mochi filled with sweet bean paste, colorful nerikiri molded into flowers. If she couldn’t reach him with words, maybe she could reach him with something handmade, something sincere.—

—That night, she worked with quiet determination, hands dusted with flour, fingers shaping each piece with care. When she tied the bow atop the small box, her heart gave a nervous flutter.—

—The next morning, whispers began before she even entered the room.—

—Keisuke’s desk had become the center of attention. The little box sat there, neatly wrapped, tied with a crimson ribbon that stood out stark against the winter gloom. Himari stood beside it, her breath catching as dozens of eyes turned toward her, waiting.—

—Keisuke looked at it for a long moment, his expression unreadable as always. But the silence was deafening. The class leaned forward, smirks and wide eyes trading glances. “She actually made him sweets,” someone murmured under their breath. “It’s official. She’s head over heels.”—

—Keisuke’s fingers brushed the ribbon. He didn’t open it. Instead, he stared at the gift, something flickering in his gaze, a crack in the ice. He wasn’t used to this. Not the attention, not the sincerity, not the idea that someone had gone out of their way just for him.—

—She stood there, nervous but smiling gently, as though her hope alone could bridge the gap between them.—

—For the first time in a long while, Keisuke wasn’t sure what to do. He thought her persistence was reckless, maybe even desperate… but beneath all that, he felt something he hadn’t in years. Warmth.—

—And though he said nothing, though his lips never parted, the way his hand lingered on the box, hesitant, thoughtful, was the closest thing to a reaction anyone had ever seen from him.—

—The class erupted into whispers, but Himari only watched him, her smile softening. Because maybe, just maybe, this time she had reached him.—

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