[Chapter 12: Closer Than Ever]
The second day of the trip began with the class hike—a winding uphill trail that carved its way through the lush green mountains. The air was crisp, filled with birdsong and the soft rustle of leaves shifting under the students' steps.
Takumi wasn't exactly thrilled about hiking. The incline, the bugs, the group chatter—it wasn't really his thing. But when he saw Yuri walking toward the group in a simple light jacket, her hair loosely tied back, strands gently swaying with every step, and that quiet, composed expression she always wore… he stopped caring about the rest.
They didn't even need to speak. Yuri fell into step beside him naturally, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. No one questioned it. A few classmates threw glances their way, but no one said a word.
Haruto was already a few paces ahead with othera, probably trying to impress them with something ridiculous. Takumi tuned out the buzz of voices and focused on the sound of Yuri's footsteps next to his own.
About halfway up the trail, dark clouds began gathering overhead.
"That doesn't look good," Takumi muttered, squinting at the sky.
Moments later, thunder rumbled in the distance.
And just like that—it started to rain.
At first, it was a drizzle. But then it turned heavy—fast.
"Everyone! Find shelter!" a teacher's voice shouted from somewhere up ahead.
Students scrambled in different directions—toward trees, rocks, anything that might keep them dry. Takumi didn't hesitate. He grabbed Yuri's wrist, his fingers wrapping around it firmly but gently.
"There!" he said, nodding toward a small wooden structure just off the trail—a hiker's rest hut, barely visible through the curtain of rain.
They bolted up the slope, soaked within seconds. By the time they stepped under the shelter's overhang and into its narrow interior, the rain had become a roar, hammering the roof above.
The hut was small—just one wooden bench along the wall, and barely enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. The space felt warmer than outside, but only barely. Everything smelled like damp wood and pine needles.
"Great weather," she said softly, voice dry with irony.
Takumi let out a quiet sigh and dragged a hand through his soaked black hair. "At least we're not stuck with Haruto and his bad jokes."
Yuri gave a breath of laughter, small but genuine, and sat down on the edge of the bench, drawing her knees in slightly for warmth. Takumi sat beside her without a word, their shoulders nearly touching.
For a while, the only sound was the rain. Loud and steady, like it meant to drown out every thought.
"…It reminds me of back then," Yuri said, her voice cutting gently through the silence. "That day in the rain."
Takumi turned to look at her. Her eyes were distant, soft, remembering.
He nodded. "Yeah. Except now you're not crying."
"I was a mess," she said, a shy smile forming on her lips.
"You were still cute."
She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "You really say things like that so casually."
"I don't say it to just anyone."
Her cheeks tinted pink, and for a few moments, she avoided his gaze, biting back a small smile.
Outside, the storm raged on. Inside the little hut, the air was thick—not just with humidity, but with something unspoken, simmering just below the surface.
Yuri turned slightly, just enough to face him more directly. Her shoulder brushed his.
He looked back at her.
Neither of them said anything. Neither of them moved away.
A breath.
A pause.
And then—
It just happened.
No dramatic lead-up. No mental checklist. Just instinct.
Their faces leaned in at the same time, barely noticeable. There was no question, no hesitation. And in the next second, their lips met.
It was soft. Uncertain. A whisper of contact more than a kiss—but real, undeniably real.
Warmth bloomed between them, far more powerful than the chill in their damp clothes.
They parted just as gently, as if startled by the fact that it had even occurred.
Yuri blinked, her fingers brushing her lips. "Um…"
Takumi immediately looked away, clearly flustered. "Sorry—I didn't mean to—well, I did, but not like—"
Yuri laughed. Not to mock, but because the awkwardness was so completely them.
"That was... unexpected," she said, still a little pink.
"…Was it okay?" His voice was quiet, sincere.
She turned to him, still smiling, still Yuri. "Yeah. Just... don't expect me to be smooth about it."
He chuckled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Same."
The storm outside hadn't let up—but inside the tiny shelter, something had shifted.
A line crossed. A page turned.
Not just a kiss.
A moment that happened—because it was meant to.