Darkness pressed gently against the windows of our old wooden house.
Out here in the countryside, nights were deeper—
quieter—
the only sounds the whisper of trees swaying in the forest behind our home and the soft hum of insects outside.
Inside, the kitchen glowed with warm, golden light.
"Careful with your fingers, Kaito," my mother reminded me for what must've been the fifth time.
"I am being careful," I muttered.
Which was exactly when the knife slipped.
A sharp sting shot through my hand.
"Ah—!"
Blood welled instantly, more than I expected.
Too much for a small cut.
My breath hitched.
Before panic could settle in, my mother turned sharply.
"Kaito!"
She crossed the kitchen in seconds.
Her presence alone made the fear ease a little—
warm, steady, certain.
"Stay still," she said, voice calm despite the urgency.
She grabbed a clean cloth, pressed it gently to my finger, then hurried out of the room.
I blinked at the doorway she vanished through, heart pounding.
The forest outside creaked softly with night wind.
The lamp flickered.
For a second, all I could hear was my own breathing.
She returned with a small medicine box, kneeling beside me.
"Let me see," she murmured.
When she removed the cloth, even she paused.
"…It's deeper than I thought."
The antiseptic stung, and I winced.
Her hands, however, were steady— practiced.
As she wrapped the bandage around my finger, she spoke quietly.
"Kaito… you can't keep acting this careless."
Her voice wasn't sharp in the slightest.
It was soft—soft enough to settle in the heart like warm tea on a winter night.
A gentle reminder, not a reprimand.
She tightened the bandage carefully, her fingers brushing mine with a tenderness only a mother could have.
"One day," she continued, her tone lowering into something almost nostalgic,
"someone will walk into your life… someone who looks to you for strength."
I blinked up at her, still sniffing back the sting of pain.
Her eyes met mine—steady, warm, and endlessly patient.
"When that happens," she whispered,
"you must be the kind of person who can lift others up even when you feels want to scream and giving up."
She smoothed the bandage with her thumb, smiling softly.
"Because it is your responsibility."
A warm smile appeared on her face
"You won't understand this now, Kaito. But the world will place people in your care…
people who trust you in ways they trust no one else."
Her hand rose, gently brushing my hair out of my face.
"And when that day comes, my dear boy…
be kind.
Be steady.
Be someone whose presence feels like home to them."
The lamp's glow flickered over her smile—tired, a little sad, but filled with love profound enough to shape a lifetime.
"Because the one who depends on you…
will need your heart far more than your strength."
In that small kitchen, with the forest murmuring outside and the scent of warm broth in the air, I didn't fully grasp her words.
That night became a memory shaped like a promise—
one I made to my mother ten years ago,
and one I've carried with me ever since...
The memory slipped away like mist.
When I blinked, the warm glow of the kitchen lamp disappeared—replaced by the rhythmic sway of a train and the soft murmur of passengers.
We were already on the way to Kawaguchiko.
Mountains in the distance, afternoon light slanting through the windows, the girls chatting quietly across the aisle…
And me?
Apparently staring at nothing for a solid minute.
"Hayashi-kun."
A soft voice.
Gentle. Almost whisper-like.
I turned—and found Naoko leaning slightly closer, her head tilted, her eyes studying me with calm curiosity.
"You were spacing out," she said. "Are you… okay?"
"Oh—uh." I straightened instinctively. "Did I fall asleep?"
Naoko blinked slowly.
"…You were sitting upright, staring at the ceiling."
"Oh."
So, no. Not sleeping then.
Before I could say anything else, someone on my other side shifted.
Rei.
She'd been pretending to scroll her phone, but the moment Naoko spoke up, she peeked over—her eyes slightly wide with worry.
"K-Kaito," Rei murmured, "if you're tired, you can lean back properly, you know?"
"I'm fine," I assured her quickly.
Rei puffed her cheeks. "You say that, but you were zoning out like you saw a ghost."
"I just remembered something. It's nothing serious."
Naoko quietly nodded, accepting the answer…
but Rei wasn't convinced at all.
"'Nothing serious' doesn't make people stare into the void like that," she mumbled.
"You're exaggerating."
"No, I'm not! You were like—"
Rei mimicked my blank expression with embarrassing accuracy.
Naoko covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
"Rei-chan," she said softly, "that's… surprisingly similar."
"See?" Rei said. "I'm not imagining things!"
"I get it, I get it," I sighed. "I won't freak you two out again."
"You didn't freak me out," Naoko added calmly.
Rei pointed a finger at her. "You were looking at him like he was dying."
"I was… mildly concerned."
"Mildly?" Rei shot back.
Naoko paused. "…Moderately."
I rubbed my temples.
This was becoming a whole debate.
Across the aisle, Akane leaned back in her seat with a grin.
"What's this? Love triangle meeting?"
"NO!" Rei and Naoko both snapped, flustered and synchronized.
Mika popped her head between the seats.
"Are we gossiping? What happened? Did Kaito die for a second?"
"I didn't die."
Hana, sitting next to the window, finally chimed in with a sigh.
"Kaito-kun, please don't die. It'll ruin the trip."
"I SAID I'M FINE."
The carriage burst into soft giggles, even Naoko covering her mouth again as her shoulders trembled.
I slumped back in my seat, defeated but smiling.
Yeah.
Chaotic as ever.
But warm.
The kind of warmth my mother once talked about—
the kind that made me want to stay steady, stay gentle, stay present.
"Seriously," Rei muttered beside me, softer this time, eyes on the passing scenery,
"just… don't make us worry like that again."
I glanced at her.
Her ears were slightly red.
"I won't," I said quietly.
And somehow…
that simple moment—crowded seats, too many voices, and an accidental flashback—
felt like the start of something quietly special.
The moment we stepped out of the train, the air changed.
It was cooler—sharp, clean, almost sweet. Like the kind of air that made you forget you were tired.
Akane stretched her arms up.
"Finally! Real mountains!"
Mika was already spinning around like a tourist who had saved up her excitement for exactly this moment.
But Naoko…
She wasn't looking at the mountains.
She was looking at me, with a quiet, curious expression that made me pretend I didn't notice.
Rei stood on my other side, adjusting her scarf.
"You okay?" she whispered.
"You were spacing out earlier. On the train."
"I wasn't spacing out," I replied.
Her eyebrow rose.
"You were."
Before I could respond, Hana lightly tugged my sleeve.
"Kaito-kun… look."
I followed her gaze—and there it was.
Mt. Fuji.
Not the full shape yet, just the distant silhouette, half-hidden behind a thin line of clouds. But even that was enough to make the moment feel unreal.
For a second, nobody spoke.
Even Akane lowered her camera.
The wind brushed past us, carrying the faint smell of roasted coffee from somewhere nearby.
That was when Mika pointed dramatically.
"C-Café! I smell café!"
Akane sighed. "Of course that's what you notice first."
Rei pressed her scarf to her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Hana nodded. "It might be good to rest before we start walking…"
Naoko's eyes flicked toward me again.
"You okay with stopping first?"
"Yeah," I said. "Actually… that sounds nice."
The place was tiny—just wooden walls, warm lights, and a few old posters of Fuji from different seasons.
When we stepped inside, the soft jazz in the background made the room feel warmer than it actually was.
We settled around a long, narrow table by the window.
Hana handed me a hot cocoa she ordered for herself but suddenly "didn't want."
"Here. Drink it before it gets cold."
Naoko sat beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed for half a second.
She glanced at my cup.
"Sweet stuff helps when you're low on energy," she said quietly.
Rei sat on my other side—very intentionally—leaning forward a little.
"You really sure you're okay? You were staring out the window earlier like something was bothering you."
"I'm fine," I said.
She opened her mouth like she wanted to ask again, but I cut her off.
"Seriously. Just enjoying the view."
"Liar," she muttered, but she let it go.
On the opposite side, Mika was trying to take a picture of the foam art on her latte… except every time she tried, Akane leaned in to photobomb.
"Akane-senpai! Stop ruining it!"
"Art is subjective."
"Your face isn't art!"
Hana giggled softly behind her hands.
Mika finally managed to take a picture of her latte—only for Hana to sneeze softly and shake the table just enough to blur the shot.
"My soul left my body," Mika whispered.
"Take another one," Hana said, flustered.
"I can't! The foam is dying!"
Akane lifted her own mug.
"Then hurry up. Foam has a lifespan, you know."
"That's why I'm panicking!"
Rei covered her mouth, shoulders shaking from laughter.
Naoko stirred her tea quietly, but I could see the corner of her lips pulling up.
She glanced at me again—subtle, but not subtle enough for me to miss.
"You really don't look fine," she murmured.
I blinked.
"I told you, I'm okay."
"Then why were you staring at your cocoa like it wronged you?"
"I wasn't—"
But before I could finish, Rei joined in.
"Kaito, you didn't even react when your sleeve dipped into your drink."
I looked down.
…It had, in fact, dipped into my drink.
"When did that happen?"
"Exactly," Rei said.
Naoko sighed—soft, almost affectionate, but she quickly hid it behind her teacup.
Across the table, Akane suddenly leaned forward.
"Oh yeah, Kaito."
"Hm?"
"Eat something. You look like someone who'd pass out dramatically in front of Mt. Fuji."
"That's oddly specific."
"It's always the quiet guys," she added.
Mika nodded seriously.
"I'll record it if it happens."
"Don't record it!"
Hana slid a small plate toward me—her cheesecake.
"You can have it. I'm… not that hungry."
"You sure?"
She nodded.
"Mm."
I hesitated, then took a bite.
Naoko watched me.
Rei watched me.
Akane watched me.
Even Mika watched me, whispering, "Don't make weird faces."
I swallowed.
"…It's good."
Everyone looked disappointed for some reason.
Naoko set her chin on her hand.
"You're impossible to tease."
Rei sighed.
"He really is."
I just sipped my cocoa, pretending I had any idea what was going on.
After the café, we stepped back into the chilly Kawaguchiko afternoon.
The sunlight had shifted—warmer now, casting golden tones on the wooden buildings and the distant trees.
The clouds around Fuji were beginning to thin.
Akane stretched.
"Alright. Let's head toward the lake. The good viewpoints should be this way."
Mika adjusted her scarf, already bouncing with excitement.
"Let's gooo! I want pictures before my batteries freeze!"
Rei walked beside me, hands in her coat pockets.
"You look more awake now," she said.
"I wasn't sleepy."
"You were absolutely sleepy."
Before I could argue, Naoko slipped in on my other side.
"Don't slip on the slopes," she warned. "The ice around here is tricky."
"I'll be fine."
"You said that before dipping your sleeve into your drink."
"…That was an accident."
Hana walked a bit behind us, admiring the scenery, occasionally humming under her breath.
The path curved gently through small shops and cafés, the smell of sweet potato stands mixing with the cold air. A group of tourists passed by, pulling suitcases, speaking in soft, excited tones.
Mika rushed ahead to a wooden overlook.
"Kaito! Hurry! You can see it from here!"
I jogged up beside her—
And there it was.
Mt. Fuji.
Clearer now.
Still distant, but unmistakable—its snowy peak glowing faintly under the late afternoon sun.
For a moment, I forgot the cold.
The wind brushed past us, and the lake shimmered like glass.
The girls all fell silent.
Akane lowered her phone slowly.
"…Wow."
Rei exhaled.
"This… is prettier than I expected."
Naoko pulled her scarf up to her nose like she didn't want anyone to see her expression.
"I-It's not like I'm emotional or anything…"
Hana stepped closer to the railing, her breath visible in the air.
"It feels… peaceful."
I stood there, watching the scenery—and the five girls at my side.
And for the first time in a long while,
I felt something warm in my chest that had nothing to do with the cocoa.
The rental shop stood just near the lake—small, wooden, and decorated with bright yellow bicycles lined up neatly in front. A little sign hung above the door:
"Cycling around the lake makes the trip better!"
The moment we got closer, Mika froze.
"…Those are huge."
Akane smirked.
"What, scared?"
"I am not scared."
Mika marched up to one of the standard-size bicycles, lifted her foot—
…and couldn't reach the pedal.
She slowly lowered her foot.
"…They're too tall."
I tried not to laugh.
"Come here. I'll adjust the seat."
"I can do it myself!" she said proudly.
She tried.
She failed.
The seat didn't budge an inch.
"Okay fine," she muttered. "Help."
I crouched down, loosened the lever, lowered the seat for her, and tightened it again.
"There. Try it now."
She hopped on perfectly.
"See?" I said. "Fits."
She puffed her cheeks.
"Stop making me feel small!"
"You are small," Akane chimed in.
"YOU'RE SMALLER IN SPIRIT!"
Their bickering echoed around the shop.
Akane pointed at her bike.
"Kaito. Mine too."
"…You can adjust it yourself."
"I could, but~—" she leaned forward, eyes glinting,
"it's more fun watching you do it."
Rei choked on her own breath.
Naoko quietly sighed.
I crouched down again, adjusting Akane's seat.
She grinned.
"Lower. A bit more. A little more. Aaand—"
"You're not actually going to ride it this low," I muttered.
"Nope. But I got to watch you concentrate for five minutes."
"Akane—"
Rei stepped between us, flustered.
"A-Akane, stop teasing him!"
"Oh? I thought you liked watching him concentrate too."
Rei nearly combusted.
Naoko quietly selected the most basic-looking bike.
"You good with that one?" I asked.
"Mm. This is fine."
"You sure? Want me to check the brakes or anything?"
Naoko rolled the bike forward, squeezed both levers, hopped on, did a perfect tight turn around us, then skidded to a gentle stop beside me.
"I used to race with my cousins," she said simply.
Mika's jaw dropped.
Akane looked scandalized.
Rei clapped softly like she just witnessed a magic trick.
I blinked.
"…You're really good."
Naoko's ears turned pink.
"I-It's nothing."
She said, after performing a maneuver worthy of an action movie.
Rei picked a bike, got on, and carefully pedaled forward…
Only for the front wheel to wobble.
"Ah—"
KLANK!
The bike tipped sideways.
She caught herself with her foot, but it still counted as a fall.
I rushed over.
"You okay?!"
"I-I'm fine!" she squeaked.
Her cheeks burned bright red.
"You sure? Your knee—"
"I'm fine!!"
She stood up so fast she hit her head on the handlebars.
BONK.
"Ow—"
"Rei…"
"It's because you were watching," she mumbled into her hands.
My heart did a weird flip.
Hana stared at a normal bike.
Then looked at the tandem bike.
Then looked at the normal bike again.
"I—I don't know which one to pick…"
"Pick the one you're comfortable with," I said.
"Mm… then…"
She placed her hand on the tandem bike gently.
"Can I… ride with you?"
She said it in the softest tone, like she expected thunder to strike her.
I blinked.
"Sure. If that's easier for you."
Mika: gapes
Akane: "Tch, bold."
Rei: "W-wait, Hana???"
Naoko: quietly looks away.
Hana climbed onto the front seat, gripping the handles like she was holding on for dear life.
"I-I'll pedal slowly… please don't let me fall."
"I won't," I said.
Her cheeks warmed.
"...Thank you."
The path along Lake Kawaguchi opened wider as we pedaled out from the station area. The morning sun glimmered on the water—soft, gentle, not too bright. A breeze swept through the line of maple trees, sending red leaves dancing across the pavement.
Hana pedaled slowly in front of me on the tandem bike.
"Um… Kaito… is this speed okay…?"
"It's perfect. Just keep it steady," I said.
She nodded—too stiffly—and almost swerved into a bush.
"Ah—sorry!"
"It's fine," I laughed. "Just relax. Think of it like walking… but faster."
"Walking doesn't require balance…" she whispered nervously.
Behind us, Rei called out,
"K-Kaito! Slow down a little!"
I looked back just in time to see her bike wobble again as a leaf landed on her handlebars.
"It surprised me…!"
"I don't think the leaf attacked you, Rei," Akane teased from behind.
"It was an ambush!"
Mika sped past Rei, ringing her bike's bell like she owned the world.
"Out of the way! Mika-sama is conducting a high-speed test!!"
"You're not supposed to race, Mika!"
"I'm testing!!"
Naoko overtook all of them effortlessly, her hair flowing behind her, her posture perfect.
"...Beautiful," I muttered without thinking.
Mika and Akane both yelled at the same time:
"HEY—WHO ARE YOU PRAISING!?"
Naoko nearly crashed from embarrassment.
"A-ah—ignore him!!" Rei shouted, speeding up so fast her bike rattled.
Meanwhile, Hana whispered,
"Kaito… everyone is… really energetic…"
"Yeah," I said, smiling. "It's nice though."
We passed families taking photos, tourists holding soft-serve ice cream, old couples strolling hand-in-hand. The scent of roasted sweet potatoes from a nearby stall drifted into the air.
The whole world felt calmer here.
Wind in my face.
Warm sunlight.
Girls yelling at each other behind me.
Hana trying her best not to fall.
Rei pedaling like her life depended on it.
Naoko acting composed until someone compliments her.
Akane plotting something probably dangerous.
Mika causing minor environmental damage.
It was… peaceful.
I didn't mind the chaos.
In fact, it made the quiet parts even nicer.
Hana glanced back over her shoulder, cheeks pink.
"Kaito… thank you for keeping me steady."
"Don't worry. I've got you."
Her fingers tightened on the handles.
Another breeze passed over the lake, scattering red leaves all around us like falling sparks.
We parked our bikes near a small wooden deck overlooking the water. The lake shimmered with reflections of red maple leaves drifting across the surface, and the air smelled faintly of pine and roasted sweet potatoes from a nearby stall.
A perfect photo spot.
Which meant, naturally, chaos was coming.
Akane stretched her arms.
"Okay, group photo! Before Mika ruins her bangs again."
"HEY—my part!" Mika protested, even though the wind had already blown her hair into three different directions.
Rei clasped her hands nervously.
"M-maybe we should wait until the wind calms down…?"
Naoko checked her phone camera.
"…The lighting is ideal now."
"See?" Akane smirked. "Perfect timing."
I stepped back a little.
"You guys take one first. I'll hold the phones."
They all turned toward me at the same time.
"No," they said in unison.
Hana tilted her head.
"We… um… want you in the picture too."
I blinked.
"Oh. Right."
Akane shoved her phone into Mika's hands.
"Mika, you take the picture."
"Why me?!" Mika cried.
"Because I don't trust you in the picture," Akane replied.
"RUDE!"
Naoko lifted her hand politely.
"I can take it."
"NO," everyone snapped.
Naoko blinked, confused.
"…Did I do something?"
Rei shook her head too quickly.
"N-No! You're just… too short! The angle will be weird!"
"I'm literally the second tallest," Naoko murmured.
I sighed and took the lead.
"Hana, you can take a picture of us first. Then I'll take one of all of you."
She hesitated… then nodded lightly and held the phone with both hands like it was a sacred artifact.
The other four lined up in front of the lake: Akane with her confident smile, Mika flashing a peace sign, Rei standing a little stiff from nerves, and Naoko posing subtly but beautifully.
"Okay, Hana. On three."
"A-ah—okay!"
"One… two—"
Mika shoved Akane.
"MOVE YOUR HEAD I WANT THE MOUNTAIN IN THE BACK!"
"YOU'RE the one blocking Mount Fuji!!"
Rei panicked, waving both hands.
"Please don't fight in the photo—!"
Naoko, expression flat, shifted half a step away from the chaos.
Click.
Hana took the photo anyway.
I peeked at it.
Complete catastrophe.
But also… kind of beautiful.
"All right," I said, smiling. "My turn."
Hana handed me the phone, fingers brushing mine for half a second—she flinched a little, cheeks pink.
I lifted the phone.
"Okay, everyone. Smile."
And then—
Akane leaned slightly toward me.
"Make sure I look cute, okay?"
Rei nearly stumbled toward me.
"K-Kaito! Is my hair okay!?"
Mika practically clung to my shoulder.
"Kaito-kun, get my good side!"
Naoko simply whispered,
"…I trust your angle."
My brain nearly short-circuited.
"G-Guys—please just stand normally—!"
But the shutter clicked.
Click—click—click.
And somehow…
As the wind swept around us, scattering red leaves across the water and lifting the girls' hair gently—
The moment turned warm.
Soft.
Peaceful.
Every one of them smiling toward me.
A real group photo.
A memory I knew would stick.