[Scene: A small ramen shop near the train station. The scent of broth and spices lingers in the air. The warm, dim lighting contrasts with the cold evening outside. Hana and Takumi sit at the counter, steam rising from their bowls.]
HANA: (stirring her noodles, watching the swirl of ingredients like a slow whirlpool) "I don't think I've ever eaten out with a classmate before."
TAKUMI: (grinning, slurping a noodle loudly) "Seriously? Not even once? What, do you live under a rock?"
HANA: (smirks faintly) "Something like that."
TAKUMI: "You should do it more often. You're missing out. Food tastes better when you eat it with people."
HANA: (raising an eyebrow) "Is that an actual fact, or just something you made up?"
TAKUMI: "Both. It's a Takumi-certified fact."
HANA: (shakes her head, finally taking a small bite) "…It's not bad."
TAKUMI: "That's the highest praise I'll ever get from you, isn't it?"
HANA: (shrugs) "Probably."
[Silence. The low hum of the shop surrounds them—clinking bowls, soft chatter, the occasional hiss from the kitchen.]
HANA: "Why are you like this?"
TAKUMI: (pauses mid-bite, looking at her) "Like what?"
HANA: "Like… you're always acting like life is a joke. Like none of this matters."
TAKUMI: (chews slowly, then swallows, tapping his chopsticks against his bowl) "Because if I don't, everything feels too heavy."
HANA: (watching him, expression unreadable) "And if it feels heavy?"
TAKUMI: (quietly) "Then I sink."
[Hana looks down at her bowl, stirring again, though she's not really paying attention to the food anymore.]
HANA: "I think I'm already at the bottom."
TAKUMI: (softly, setting his chopsticks down) "Then I guess I'll have to dive down and drag you back up."
HANA: (laughs, but it's hollow, like the sound of wind passing through an empty alleyway) "That's a stupid thing to say."
TAKUMI: (shrugs, grinning slightly) "Yeah, but you didn't say it was wrong."
[More silence, but it's different this time. Heavier. More real. The shop feels warmer than before, the kind of warmth that lingers in places people forget they need.]
HANA: "If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?"
TAKUMI: (tilting his head, thinking) "Anywhere, huh? Maybe a quiet beach at night. No crowds. Just waves and the moon. You?"
HANA: "Somewhere high. A place where I can see everything, but nothing can reach me."
TAKUMI: (chuckles lightly) "You really have a thing for heights, huh?"
HANA: "Maybe. The air is different up there. It makes things feel… distant. Manageable."
TAKUMI: "I think things feel more real when you're up high. Like the world is right there, and you can't pretend it doesn't exist."
HANA: (softly) "Maybe that's why I like it. It's easier to feel real when you're on the edge."
TAKUMI: (watching her carefully, then sighs, leaning back in his seat) "You know, for someone who claims to be tired of existing, you sure talk a lot about wanting to feel alive."
HANA: (blinks, looking at him) "…What's your point?"
TAKUMI: (grins, but it's softer this time, less teasing) "Maybe you're not as lost as you think you are."
[Hana doesn't respond immediately. She looks down at her bowl, then at Takumi, then at the world outside the shop window. The neon lights flicker. The city moves, alive in its own strange way.]
HANA: "Maybe."
[End of Chapter 3]