The week after their day of art and photography unfolded with a strange duality—quietly blissful, yet tinged with an invisible edge. For Hana, it felt like walking in sunlight with shadows always trailing behind. The collage she and Ren had made still lingered in her mind, its messy beauty reminding her that love could be created, not just found.
But every time her phone buzzed, every time she caught her reflection in a window or heard laughter down a hallway, she wondered if someone was whispering about her.
---
On Monday morning, Hana arrived at campus earlier than usual. The cherry blossoms had thinned now, their petals scattered across the ground like fragile confetti, but the trees still held enough color to soften the gray stone buildings behind them. She paused beneath one tree, letting a few petals drift into her hair, before heading toward her first lecture.
Inside the classroom, she noticed the shift immediately. A few heads turned as she entered—not unusual, but this time their eyes lingered longer. Two students whispered into their hands, glancing between her and the doorway. Hana's stomach tightened.
Ren walked in moments later, camera slung casually over his shoulder. He nodded to her as he passed, but even that small gesture sent another ripple of whispers through the room.
She lowered her gaze, sliding into her seat. Had people noticed? Or was she imagining it?
---
After class, Yui caught up with her, tugging her arm before she could escape down the hall.
"You didn't tell me this was going public," Yui said, her eyes sharp with curiosity.
"What?" Hana blinked.
"Your thing with Ren," Yui clarified, lowering her voice. "Half the campus is buzzing about it. Apparently someone saw you two in the park this weekend. Together. And not in a subtle way."
Hana's cheeks flamed. The park. Their sketches and photos, the way Ren had kissed her beneath the blossoms. She hadn't thought about how public it all might have looked.
"I didn't—" she started, but Yui raised a hand.
"Relax," Yui said. "It's not a scandal. Just… you know how people are. They love to talk. Especially when it's Ren."
"Because of his family," Hana whispered.
"Exactly," Yui replied. "Everyone knows he's the son of *that* family, the one with influence, money, connections. And now you're the girl who's caught his eye."
Hana's chest tightened. She hadn't thought about how Ren's reputation wasn't just tied to his parents, but to the entire world outside their little bubble.
---
Later that afternoon, Hana sat with Ren on the library steps, their books open but mostly forgotten. He leaned back, his camera resting in his lap, watching the clouds drift above.
"They're talking about us," Hana said quietly.
Ren glanced at her, unsurprised. "I know."
"You're not worried?"
He shrugged lightly. "People always talk. It doesn't change what's real."
Hana studied his profile, the way the sunlight carved soft lines across his jaw. He sounded confident, but she wondered if the whispers gnawed at him as much as they did her.
"What if your family hears?" she asked.
Ren's jaw tightened. "They will. Eventually. But we don't have to let them define us."
Hana wanted to believe him. She wanted to hold onto the calm strength in his voice. But part of her still feared the storm that loomed just beyond the horizon.
---
That evening, Ren surprised her by inviting her back to the park—not the crowded part where they had spent the weekend, but a smaller, hidden grove tucked behind a line of bamboo. Few students knew about it, and it was quieter, more secluded.
He spread out a blanket beneath a cluster of blossoms still clinging stubbornly to their branches, and Hana felt the tension in her shoulders ease. Here, at least, the world felt far away.
They shared food from a small picnic basket—onigiri, fruit, and tea Ren had brewed himself. Hana laughed softly as he fumbled with the thermos lid, spilling a few drops onto the grass.
"You're good with a camera," she teased, "but hopeless with tea."
Ren grinned, his eyes bright. "Guess I need someone to balance me out."
The warmth in his words melted some of Hana's unease. For a while, they ate and talked like the world outside didn't exist, like there weren't whispers spreading across campus or parents waiting in judgment.
---
When they finished eating, Hana pulled out her sketchbook. She hadn't planned to, but something about the quiet grove and Ren's steady presence urged her to draw. She sketched the curve of the blossoms above them, the slant of light across his face, the way his hand brushed against hers when he leaned closer.
Ren watched her work, camera forgotten at his side. "You always look so serious when you draw," he murmured. "Like the world disappears."
"Maybe it does," Hana said softly.
"Maybe that's why I love watching you."
Her pencil paused, her cheeks flushing. She glanced at him, but his gaze was steady, unflinching. He had said the word—love—not in a grand confession, but in the easy tone of someone stating a truth.
Hana's heart raced. She wanted to answer, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. It was her way of saying she understood. That she felt it too.
---
They stayed until the sky darkened, until the blossoms above glowed faintly against the deepening blue. When they finally left the grove, Hana felt both lighter and heavier—lighter because of the love growing between them, heavier because she knew the world outside would not remain quiet forever.
---
The next day, the whispers grew louder. Hana heard her name paired with Ren's in the cafeteria, saw glances darted her way in the hall. A girl from her art class leaned in with a too-sweet smile.
"So," the girl said, "you and Ren… is it serious? Or just a spring fling?"
Hana's stomach knotted, but she forced herself to reply calmly. "It's real."
The girl's smile faltered, then sharpened. "Good luck, then. You'll need it."
Hana walked away without answering, but the words clung to her like burrs. She wanted to be strong, but doubt was always quick to return.
---
That night, she texted Ren.
> **Hana:** "Do you ever feel like we're being pulled apart before we've even had the chance to grow?"
His reply came quickly.
> **Ren:** "Yes. But that's why I'm holding tighter."
Hana stared at the words for a long time, her chest aching with both fear and hope.
She pressed her sketchbook against her heart before falling asleep, imagining the sound of petals drifting in the dark.
---
The whispers had begun. The world was noticing. And though the grove beneath the blossoms offered them sanctuary, Hana knew it couldn't last forever.