Yuki spent the weekend deep in thought. Her growing connection with Itsuomi was undeniable, and her heart fluttered every time she replayed their conversations. Yet doubt lingered. Did he see her as anything more than a friend?
By Monday morning, she decided to push her worries aside. If there was anything she'd learned from Itsuomi, it was to live in the moment and appreciate what was in front of her.
That afternoon, Itsuomi invited her to a quiet park near campus. He'd brought along a small notebook and pen, something he often used to communicate with others when typing on his phone felt too impersonal.
They found a spot under a cherry blossom tree, the soft pink petals falling like snow around them. Itsuomi gestured for her to sit beside him, and she did, feeling her usual nervousness melt away in his calm presence.
He opened the notebook and wrote something down before turning it toward her.
How was your weekend?
Yuki smiled, pulling a pen from her bag to reply beneath his question. Good. I practiced signing a lot.
His eyes lit up, and he signed, Show me.
Taking a deep breath, Yuki signed, The weather is nice today. Do you come here often?
Itsuomi nodded, replying in sign language, Yes. It's peaceful here. Good job.
The praise made her blush. She glanced at his hands, still hovering mid-air, and decided to ask something that had been on her mind.
How did you learn to sign so well?
He paused, then wrote in the notebook. I went to a school for the deaf when I was younger. My parents wanted me to feel comfortable in my world, so they made sure I grew up surrounded by people who understood me.
Yuki read his words slowly, her chest tightening. She could see the care his parents had poured into his life, but also the weight of growing up in a world where most people didn't speak his language.
She hesitated before adding to his words. Do you ever feel lonely?
Itsuomi's pen hovered over the paper for a moment before he wrote, Sometimes. But not when I'm with people like you.
Her breath caught. She stared at the words, feeling their weight settle deep in her heart.
As the afternoon turned to evening, they strolled through the park, stopping occasionally to admire the flowers and the golden light streaming through the trees.
At one point, Itsuomi tugged gently on her sleeve, signaling her to stop. When she turned to him, he signed, I want to teach you something new.
Curious, she nodded.
He pointed to himself, then signed, Friend. Then he pointed to her and signed the same word. Finally, he brought both hands together, interlocking his fingers.
Yuki watched closely, trying to decipher the meaning. She typed on her phone, What does it mean?
Itsuomi smiled and wrote in the notebook. Close friend.
Her cheeks warmed as she read the words. She signed it back to him, her hands moving a little awkwardly, but he nodded in approval.
They practiced a few more signs, laughing silently whenever Yuki made mistakes. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, the atmosphere between them grew quieter, more intimate.
Itsuomi suddenly stopped walking and turned to face her fully. His expression was serious, but not unkind. He lifted his hands and signed something slowly, deliberately.
Yuki didn't recognize the signs. She frowned in concentration, trying to piece together their meaning, but her limited vocabulary failed her.
He must have seen her confusion because he pulled out his notebook and wrote: Thank you for trying so hard to understand me. Most people don't. It means a lot.
She read the words, her heart pounding in her chest. Before she could respond, he added more.
I hope we can keep spending time together.
Yuki felt her throat tighten as she stared at his handwriting. The sincerity in his words overwhelmed her, and she didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she lifted her hands and signed as best as she could, Me too.
Itsuomi's smile was soft, almost shy, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away.
As they left the park and walked back toward the station, Yuki couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them. The distance she'd always feared was closing, little by little, with every word, every sign, every moment they shared.
And for the first time, she allowed herself to hope that maybe this wasn't just a friendship—it was the beginning of something far more meaningful.