The continuous buzzing of his phone was what stirred John from his sleep that morning. He had set an alarm for 5:45 AM, hoping to wake up early enough to pack and catch the morning train heading to Yukimura. The air in his room was cold, and the faint gray light slipping through the window blinds told him the sun hadn't fully risen yet.
Moments later, after throwing on a hoodie and grabbing his duffle bag, he dashed out of his apartment. The city was still waking up, and the streets were relatively quiet—except for the occasional car or early riser passing by. He moved quickly, nearly slipping once on a patch of ice, but managed to make it to the station just in time—right before the early morning crowd began to form and potentially delay him from getting his ticket.
By 7:30 AM, John was finally seated on the train bound for Yukimura. It was a long journey, roughly five hours, but he didn't mind. In fact, a part of him welcomed the solitude it would offer. No distractions, no noise—just him, the rhythmic hum of the train, and the snow-covered scenery outside the window.
John (to himself): I just hope the snow doesn't delay me too much.
The train began to pull away from the station, and John leaned against the window, his breath faintly fogging the glass. Flakes of snow drifted softly from the sky, adding a layer of serenity to the wintry landscape. He let his thoughts wander until his phone suddenly buzzed again—this time not from the alarm, but from a string of notifications.
Curious, he picked up his phone and unlocked it. The Twibbler icon was flashing with unread messages. He tapped on it.
Dozens of "Happy Birthday" posts and direct messages filled his timeline. Ivan had sent a funny meme. Joseph wrote something thoughtful. Leanne had tagged him in a nostalgic photo from last summer. But what made him pause the most was a simple, short message from someone he hadn't expected to hear from.
It was from Rachel.
They hadn't spoken much since he turned her down. Their last real conversation was just before their mock exams, and things had been distant ever since. The message wasn't long—just a "Happy Birthday. I hope you're doing okay." But it still caught him off guard.
He stared at the screen for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard, unsure whether to respond. After a few seconds, he let out a soft sigh and turned his attention back to the falling snow.
John (to himself): Birthdays, huh?
The idea of birthdays never meant much to him. He didn't see them the same way others did—as a celebration or a joyful reminder of life. To him, birthdays were just another harsh reminder of the circumstances surrounding his birth—of a past he'd rather not think about. It disgusted him every time those memories surfaced.
He clenched his jaw slightly and looked away, trying to push the thoughts back where they belonged—buried deep inside, untouched, unspoken.
Not wanting to spiral into the past again, John locked his phone and stuffed it into his pocket. He leaned back into his seat, eyes still fixed on the blur of snowy trees racing past the window as the train steadily moved forward—toward Yukimura, toward something new.
******
The dim winter light seeped through the hospital window, casting a faint grey hue across the room. Snow tapped gently against the glass, whispering the promise of something magical—something long-awaited.
Kana was already wide awake.
She sat up in bed with her blanket draped loosely over her shoulders like a shawl. The thin hospital sheets barely held back the cold, but the anticipation swelling in her chest made it hard to care. Her phone lay beside her on the bed—screen dark, unmoving—but her thoughts churned faster than ever.
Kana: (smiling softly) He's on his way… He really is.
She glanced at the wall clock. 7:30 AM.
John was probably already on the train to Yukimura by now, maybe sitting by the window, watching the snowfall blur the passing landscape. The thought made her press her palms to her chest, as if that could slow the butterflies fluttering wild within.
It had been so long since she'd felt this kind of excitement.
Not for lab results.
Not for another scan.
Not for a doctor with a new medication plan.
But for someone.
For something real.
Her eyes drifted toward the small outfit hanging neatly on the chair beside her bed. A fluffy, light-blue sweater with soft wool mittens and a knitted hat that still carried a faint lavender scent from the gift box. Jane had helped her pick it out just yesterday, smiling the whole time and insisting it would bring out the color in her eyes.
She'd even offered to braid Kana's hair that morning.
Kana had agreed at first—just to humor her.
But when she thought of John again…
She decided she wanted to keep things simple. Just a regular ponytail. The same style she always wore during their video chats and late-night Twibbler messages. It felt more like her.
The room was quiet except for the low hum of the heater and the occasional creak of pipes hidden behind the hospital walls. But inside, Kana's heart was noisy—bursting with questions, hopes, fears, and a joy that felt too big for her frail body.
Kana: (to herself, a whisper) I hope the snow doesn't delay him... But even if it does... he's still coming.
Her fingers reached for the phone. The screen flickered on, casting a faint glow in the dim light. She opened the Twibbler app instinctively—scrolling through last night's thread. Birthday messages. Replies from mutuals. A handful of hearts.
Still no response from John.
That was okay.
He was probably watching the snowfall, lost in thought. Maybe even nervous like her.
Maybe he had no idea what to say when they finally saw each other face-to-face.
The door creaked open gently, breaking her thoughts.
Jane stepped in, balancing a tray with a cup of tea that let out curls of steam into the cold air. She was wrapped in a nurse's winter coat and scarf, her cheeks pink from the morning chill. The sight of Kana already awake and smiling made her pause with surprise and quiet joy.
Jane: Did you sleep at all, Kana?
Kana giggled softly and shook her head.
Kana: Not really… It's too exciting. Today's the day.
Jane set the tray down on the side table and walked over, brushing a loose strand of hair from Kana's face with the care of someone who had been more than just a nurse for a long time now.
Jane: He's lucky, you know. Getting to meet someone as special as you.
Kana lowered her gaze, the compliment landing softly but deeply. Her cheeks warmed, a blush blooming under pale skin.
Kana: I just hope… he's really able to make it this time.
There was a pause.
Then Jane gave a small shake of her head.
Jane: You won't hope. You never could.
She smiled, kissed Kana's forehead gently, and stepped out, leaving Kana alone once more with her racing thoughts.
The silence returned—but not for long.
Kana reached for her phone again. Her fingers hovered over the screen. For a few seconds, she just stared at the blinking cursor. Then, with a quiet breath, she typed:
> "Well… today's the big day. Let's hope everything goes the way we imagined."
She read it over twice. Then, heart pounding, she hit send.
And smiled.
Kana: (to herself) Today… I won't be just Lonelygirl4556.
I'll be Kana. And he'll finally see me.
*******
Dr. Kennedy was already at the train station by 12:00 PM, right on schedule. That was when John's train was expected to arrive after its long five-hour journey. The winter chill hung in the air, and flurries of snow danced around the platform. With his coat buttoned up and a scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, he made his way to one of the benches under the station's covered waiting area and sat down with a quiet sigh.
As he waited, his thoughts drifted to the past few days. He briefly recalled Kana's excitement during their last conversation. Her eyes had lit up with so much joy when she learned John was finally coming to visit in person. That memory brought a faint smile to his face—warm, genuine, and touched with a kind of melancholy.
But as that smile lingered, another memory slipped into his mind.
Jane.
It was the day she had come to his office, knocking softly before entering, her expression unusually serious. She had asked him how Kana was doing. Not just in the casual, polite way others did, but with genuine concern—and something else he couldn't quite put into words at the time.
What had caught him off guard the most wasn't the question itself. It was the fact that she had seen through him so easily. He had thought he'd hidden his weariness and emotional strain behind the usual calm demeanor and professional smile. But Jane had looked right past that.
Dr. Kennedy: (to himself) I guess I didn't do a good job masking myself, huh?
He gave a soft chuckle at the thought, though there was a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes. She always had that uncanny ability to read him, no matter how much he tried to keep his walls up.
As he sat there, his fingers curled around the edge of the bench, and another memory surfaced—one he hadn't expected to recall today.
Kana's voice.
Bright. Bold. Unfiltered.
"You two obviously have the hots for each other. Just start dating already."
Dr. Kennedy's face flushed immediately. His ears turned red as the memory echoed in his mind. He could still picture the way Kana had smirked after saying it, utterly shameless and proud of her observation.
Dr. Kennedy: (gritting his teeth) That girl…
He shook his head, attempting to dispel the thoughts and the heat rising to his cheeks. But the damage was done. He squirmed slightly in his seat, drawing a few puzzled glances from nearby passengers who quietly wondered if he was feeling alright—or if he was just a bit off in the head.
Realizing he might be making a scene, Dr. Kennedy straightened up, cleared his throat, and did his best to regain composure. He exhaled slowly, then glanced at his watch.
12:57 PM.
John's train should have arrived several minutes ago. He furrowed his brow. Something wasn't right.
Dr. Kennedy: Huh? What's going on?
He quickly pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over John's contact before tapping the call icon. As it rang, he looked around the station, hoping to spot a familiar figure among the arriving passengers. But the platform remained as it was—quiet and still.
Then, a soft chime echoed from the station's overhead speakers, drawing everyone's attention.
Public Announcement:
"Attention all passengers and staff. Due to severe weather conditions and heavy snowfall along the Northbridge Line, the 12:50 PM train has been delayed. We apologize for the inconvenience and will provide updates as soon as more information becomes available."
Dr. Kennedy lowered his phone with a sigh. The call hadn't gone through. Likely no signal in the area John was currently passing through—if the train was even moving at all.
He leaned back against the bench, gazing at the sky through the station's glass canopy. The snow was falling harder now. And all he could do was wait.