Days passed, quiet and colorless.
Yuu didn't return to the crocheting class.
Not because he found a new place to learn.
But because he didn't want to learn from anyone else.
He sat in his room most days, sunlight stretching across yarn balls and needles scattered across his desk.
Every time he picked up the hook, his hands froze.
No one was there to say:
> "Just gently twist here, like this... you're doing fine."
He missed her presence more than the art itself.
His mother thought he'd moved on.
But instead, Yuu had carved a small routine—walk to the old almond tree trail near the edge of the neighborhood, sit there alone, and try to forget the pain that had started the moment he saw Aira's disappointed face being pulled away by her father.
---
Meanwhile, Aira was adjusting to her new crochet teaching space—a brighter room, filled with younger girls and questions that buzzed nonstop.
Her father had made it clear:
> "Teach wherever you want. Just not where he is. And never speak of that family again."
She obeyed.
With a soft smile and heavy heart, she tied her hair up each day, picked her softest yarns, and gave lessons in a community hall across town.
But she never smiled fully.
Not once.
---
Then one late afternoon, just as class ended and the sun dipped behind rooftops, Aira stepped out, breathing in the cool breeze of nearing autumn.
She turned the corner of the building, stretching her arms—
—and then she saw someone walking ahead.
Tall.
Quiet steps.
A slight slouch, hands in pockets.
The exact way she remembered him that day when he followed her silently, then said her name softly for the first time.
Her heart skipped.
> "...Yuu-kun?"
She blinked.
Could it be?
She took one hesitant step toward that figure.
But just then—
"Sensei! Sensei!!"
The little girls rushed out with paper patterns in hand, giggling and calling her name.
She turned instinctively to respond, smiling and taking the sheets from them, calming their excitement.
Only a few seconds passed.
When she looked back — he was gone.
> Was it even him? Or just her heart playing tricks?
She stood there silently, eyes on the end of the street.
She never knew where he went.
Or that he walked that road daily to his hidden almond place.
But even though the distance remained…
Something about that quiet sight settled deep in her chest like a memory.
---
Far away, Yuu paused briefly at the tree.
A strange feeling bloomed inside him, like a gentle pull.
Like he'd almost been seen.
Almost been… found.
But of course, he told himself — that couldn't be.
No one would be looking for someone like him.
And yet, that small warmth didn't leave him the whole walk back.