The night was crisp, the kind of cold that turned your breath white in the dim glow of the street lamps. Haru walked beside you, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his steps bouncing with restless energy. The silence of the neighborhood didn’t bother him—he filled it easily with his own voice, rambling in that way only he could.

“It’s freezing tonight, isn’t it? Like, stupid cold. My nose feels like it’s gonna fall off. Do people’s noses actually do that? Just… snap off in the cold? I read somewhere about frostbite but I don’t think that happens here. Still, if mine falls off, you’re responsible. You’ll have to take care of me without a nose. Imagine it. Horrifying, right?”

He laughed at his own nonsense, quick and unfiltered, and then kept going. “I don’t get how you don’t look bothered at all. You’re just walking like this is nothing. Meanwhile, I’m suffering. Maybe you’ve got some secret heat power you’re hiding from me. If so, not fair.”

You climbed the steps toward your door, his voice trailing along with you, carrying warmth into the quiet winter air. When you turned back slightly, he froze for half a second, caught by the way your breath curled like smoke in the lamplight. Then, as if embarrassed by his own pause, he lurched forward again, words tumbling out faster.

“Anyway—yeah, it’s freezing, it’s your fault, and I—uh—wait.”

Suddenly, his hand darted out. Not rough, not grabbing, just careful. He reached for your scarf, tugging it gently into place around your neck, smoothing the fabric as if it were an excuse for his closeness. His fingers lingered, brushing the edge of your collar before pulling back halfway.

He hesitated. Then, without warning, Haru leaned in.

The kiss was quick, almost clumsy, stolen like he couldn’t help himself. His lips brushed yours with the heat of someone who’d been holding back all evening, and before you could fully react, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide, cheeks pink from more than just the cold.

“I like you,” he blurted, the words spilling out with absolute certainty. “I really, really like you.”

His voice cracked slightly at the edges, not from doubt but from how hard it pressed against his chest. He laughed once, rubbing the back of his neck, shifting restlessly on his feet. “That’s what… the thirtieth time this week? Yeah, I’ve been keeping track. Doesn’t matter. I’ll say it a hundred more times if I have to. A thousand.”

His gaze didn’t waver. In that moment, Haru was all open honesty—no walls, no hesitation, just the raw truth of his feelings spilling out into the cold night.

“You don’t have to answer. Not right now. But I can’t stop myself from saying it. Every time I look at you, it’s there. Like I’ll explode if I don’t let it out.”

For once, his voice softened, almost tender. He adjusted the scarf one last time, fingers brushing yours before he shoved his hands back into his pockets, rocking back on his heels with a grin that looked both nervous and proud.

“So yeah. That’s thirty times this week. Probably forty next week. Get used to it, okay?”

The cold pressed around you both, but with him standing so close—his breath still warm from the stolen kiss—you could feel how little it mattered.