"The coldest place is not winter. It's where no love is allowed to stay."
---
Morning – The Fragile Warmth
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, soft and pale.
Hana woke slowly, Mio's hand still faintly brushing hers. Neither had moved much through the night. The air between them was warm — not from the room, but from the silence that hadn't shattered.
Mio stirred, eyes fluttering open.
"…You're still here."
Hana smiled. "I told you I wouldn't leave."
Mio turned on her side, their faces inches apart. Her eyes, though red-rimmed from the night before, held something gentler today. Something lighter.
"I slept," she whispered, almost in disbelief. "For the first time in days."
"I'm glad," Hana said softly.
A pause.
Then Mio asked, "What do you think love feels like?"
Hana blinked. "Love?"
"I've never really… known. Not the kind that doesn't come with conditions."
Hana sat up slightly. "I think… maybe it feels like this. Being able to breathe around someone. Not having to perform. Not having to apologize for your sadness."
Mio looked down at the tangled blanket between them. "If that's love… I don't want to let it go."
---
The Return
They were still sitting side by side on the floor, brushing their hair and talking softly, when the click of the front door echoed down the hall.
Mio froze.
Hana saw the color drain from her face.
"…She's home."
The hallway went quiet. Then came the unmistakable sound of high heels on polished wood — sharp, measured, final.
Hana stood as Mio slowly opened the door. Footsteps approached.
And then she appeared.
Ayaka Katagiri.
Tall. Immaculate. A sharp black suit, a red silk scarf, makeup flawless despite travel. Her expression was as cold as the glass stair railing behind her.
Her eyes swept the room.
Then landed on Hana.
"A guest?" she asked, voice clipped. "Unannounced?"
Mio opened her mouth. "She's my classmate. She—"
"You should have informed me. You know better."
"She stayed over. I didn't want to be alone."
Ayaka arched a brow. "That's not an excuse. Do you think you can treat this home like a dormitory?"
"Mama—"
"And look at you," she continued, her voice softening — but not kindly. "You didn't even brush your hair properly this morning. Are you trying to embarrass yourself in front of your classmates now too?"
Hana's fists clenched.
Mio bowed her head slightly. "I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize to me," Ayaka said, crossing her arms. "Apologize to yourself, for making things harder than they need to be. I've worked very hard to give you a name worth carrying, Mio. Don't tarnish it."
She turned to Hana with a polite smile.
"I'm sure your parents taught you better manners than this. Staying overnight uninvited."
Hana stepped forward before she could think.
"I stayed because your daughter needed someone."
A flicker of surprise crossed Ayaka's face. But it vanished just as quickly.
"Is that so," she said calmly. "Then I hope she hasn't become too dependent. Girls your age often mistake weakness for connection."
Mio flinched.
That was enough.
Hana turned to Mio, her voice shaking. "Get your things."
Mio looked up, startled. "What?"
"We're leaving. Just for the day."
"Mio has responsibilities—" Ayaka began.
But Hana cut her off.
"She's eighteen. She's allowed to choose where she breathes."
Ayaka didn't reply. She merely turned and walked toward the stairs, heels clicking again, the final sound of someone who believed they'd already won.
---
Outside – A Silent Walk
They walked for ten minutes without a word.
Mio carried only her bag. Her steps were small. Weak. She didn't cry.
But her hands shook.
Finally, she spoke.
"She's always been like that."
Hana didn't interrupt.
"She thinks love is control. That respect is obedience. That being strong means not needing anyone."
Hana stopped walking.
Mio did too.
"You don't believe that, do you?" Hana asked quietly.
"I did," Mio whispered. "For a long time."
Hana stepped closer. "And now?"
"…Now, I'm scared I'll never know what love really is."
Hana reached out and gently touched her cheek.
"It's this," she said. "This moment. You telling me you're scared and not being punished for it."
Mio's lips trembled.
"It's you not apologizing for hurting."
Mio's breath hitched.
"And it's me choosing to stay. No matter how messy it gets."
A pause.
Then Mio leaned forward — slowly, nervously — until her forehead touched Hana's shoulder.
And for a while, she just stayed there, silent, letting herself be held.
---
Later That Day — Under the Cherry Trees
They sat side by side on a bench beneath the sakura blossoms.
Petals drifted down gently, brushing Mio's hair.
"Will you still be here next spring?" she asked softly.
"Yes."
"And the spring after that?"
"Yes."
Mio looked up at her.
"I'm still not ready."
"You don't have to be," Hana said.
Mio reached for Hana's hand, fingers lacing slowly.
"…Thank you. For fighting for me."
Hana squeezed her hand. "Always."
And beneath the falling petals, for the first time since Mio's heart had shut away every light—
She smiled.
Not the practiced smile.
Not the perfect one.
But one that was small, and trembling, and true.
---
End of Chapter 8
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