Weeks slipped by like pages torn from a calendar.
The buzz of campfire laughter, the warmth of that night they faded into something that felt almost unreal now. School returned to its rhythm: bells, footsteps, chatter, exams, meetings. The ordinary.
To everyone else, it was just winter settling in.
To me, it was the silence before something bigger.
December 12th. The sky outside the classroom windows was pale and heavy with clouds that promised snow. The heater in the corner buzzed softly, and the faint scent of chalk and coffee filled the air.
It had been weeks since the camp.
Weeks since I told myself I'd wait.
And during those weeks, I'd been collecting.
Pictures. Videos. Fragments.
Small moments of Miyuki and Souta together a hand on his arm near the lockers, a quiet lunch behind the gym, a walk after club hours. Nothing scandalous on its own, but when placed together, they painted a picture.
A picture that I would soon let everyone see.
Still, for now, I played the role of the helpful student the boy who smiled at teachers, the one who helped others without being asked. A harmless mask.
"Haruto, could you hand me that stack?" Yui's voice pulled me back to the present.
She was sitting beside me in the student council room, surrounded by papers, her hair messy from stress. "You've got good handwriting. Help me with the flyers."
"Sure," I said, passing them over.
Even though I wasn't part of the council, I'd somehow become part of their work. Maybe it was because I never refused when they asked for help. Maybe because I wanted to keep myself busy or distracted.
The student council was organizing the school's Christmas program a huge event that involved every club and department. The room smelled like printer ink and coffee cups gone cold. Piles of forms sat stacked like miniature towers.
Outside, the campus glowed faintly under early Christmas lights.
"Haruto, take a break," one of the council members said, yawning. "You've been staring at those budget forms for an hour."
"I'm fine," I said, stretching my arms. "Just want to finish the printing batch."
Across the room, Miyuki was sitting with her violin case beside her chair, flipping through her sheet music.
She'd started learning the violin a few weeks ago, inspired by a famous violinist who had performed in town. Every afternoon after class, she practiced in the music room the faint echo of her playing could be heard even from the courtyard sometimes.
When she caught me looking, she smiled the same soft smile she always gave me now. Polite, careful, and a little unsure.
"Still working?" she asked.
"Yeah. Council's chaos."
"You're not even a member," she said, laughing quietly.
I shrugged. "Guess I like the noise."
Her eyes softened, but before she could say anything else, Souta entered the room, holding a stack of soccer club donation forms. His expression was calm, almost blank, as always lately.
He glanced at her briefly just long enough for something wordless to pass between them then went straight to the council president.
I looked back down at the paper, the sound of my pen scratching faintly across the page.
Time crawled, slow and heavy.
By the time I looked at the clock again, it was already past 8 p.m.
Everyone was tired. The council room looked like a battlefield half-empty snack bags, scattered documents, drooping heads. Yui groaned and fell backward on her chair dramatically.
"If I die, tell my mom I was a dedicated worker," she muttered.
"Tell her yourself," Natsumi replied, yawning.
Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Hoshino, appeared at the door just then, carrying a tray of snacks and bottled drinks. "Still working, huh? You kids are amazing."
"Ms. Hoshino," I greeted, standing. "You didn't have to"
"I wanted to," she said warmly, setting the tray down. "You've been here for hours. At least eat something before your brains melt."
She looked around, smiling, before her eyes landed on me. "Haruto, you've really become dependable lately. I'm proud of you."
I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. "I just… like helping."
She laughed softly. "Helping, or is it because of a certain someone?"
Her eyes glimmered teasingly as she nodded toward Miyuki.
For a second, I froze then managed a small laugh. "Maybe both."
She chuckled. "I knew it. You two have always had that quiet connection."
Miyuki's cheeks turned faint pink, and she hid her face behind her violin sheet.
The conversation drifted into light teasing and tired laughter, the kind that fills the air after long hours.
By 10 p.m., we'd only managed to finish about a third of the paperwork.
"Alright," Ms. Hoshino finally said, clapping her hands. "Enough for today. Pack up. I'll drive you home it's too late to walk."
No one argued.
The car ride was quiet, warm, and half-drowsy. The heater hummed softly as the city lights passed outside. I sat in the back with Yui and Miyuki. She leaned her head against the window, half-asleep, her violin case resting on her lap.
Ms. Hoshino dropped each student off one by one. By the time we reached my neighborhood, the streets were nearly empty.
"Thanks for the ride," I said, stepping out.
"Get some rest," she replied, smiling. "You worked hard today."
When we reached my house, she insisted on coming to the door to apologize to my mother for keeping me late.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kuroda," she said politely. "He's not even part of the student council, and we made him stay till now."
Mom smiled, shaking her head. "It's fine. I trust him and I trust you, sensei. Thank you for bringing him home."
They exchanged a few words about school before she left.
I watched her car drive off before stepping inside.
The warmth of home greeted me soft light, the faint smell of soup still in the air. Dad was watching TV, half-asleep, and Mom was tidying up the table.
"You're late," she said gently, not angry. "Eat something before bed."
"I already did. Teacher brought snacks."
"Still, eat a little," she said, placing a small bowl in front of me.
I sat quietly at the table, eating while the house ticked with its usual silence.
For a moment, everything looked normal. Peaceful.
But peace was only a surface.
When I went to my room, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop again. The same folder stared back at me thicker now, heavier. The date on the latest photo read December 10th.
Miyuki. Souta. The music room.
Their hands almost touching.
I stared at it for a long time, expression blank, before whispering to myself, "Almost time."
Outside, faint snow began to fall.
Soft, quiet, and cold.