The Distance Between Us

Chapter 3: The Distance Between Us

The wind rustled through the trees as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the school courtyard. It was late autumn—one of those in-between seasons where the air was neither warm nor cold, just crisp enough to make you wish you’d worn another layer.

Miyamura sat on a bench near the back wall of the school, a small carton of strawberry milk in hand. The noise of other students had faded into the background—a white noise of laughter, footsteps, and distant whistles from gym class. He preferred it this way. Quiet. Detached.

Or at least, he used to.

“Found you,” came a familiar voice.

He looked up and squinted against the sunlight. Hori stood there, hands in her blazer pockets, her ponytail swaying slightly in the breeze.

“You always hide during break,” she said, sitting beside him.

“It’s not hiding. I just like the quiet.”

She raised a brow. “And yet you still let me interrupt you.”

He smiled faintly. “Maybe I’m getting used to the noise.”

Hori laughed, a short, bright sound that made something flutter in his chest. She didn’t realize it, but moments like these—sitting side by side, sharing silence and conversation—were beginning to feel like the safest place in his world.

As the school day ended, they walked out together without discussing it. It had become a silent routine. While other students watched with mild curiosity, no one said anything. No one quite knew what to make of the unexpected pairing.

“I’m stopping by the bakery on the way home,” Hori said as they walked. “Mom said she wants something sweet tonight. Want to come?”

“Free food?” Miyamura teased. “I’m in.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re so easily bribed.”

They stopped at a cozy little shop tucked between an old bookstore and a florist. The scent of warm bread and sugar wafted out as the bell above the door jingled.

Inside, Hori picked out cream puffs, while Miyamura wandered to the corner where seasonal cookies were displayed in neat rows. The shop owner, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, looked between the two of them and beamed.

“You two make a cute couple,” she said cheerfully.

Hori choked.

Miyamura nearly dropped the cookie he was holding.

“W-We’re not—” Hori started, her cheeks burning.

The woman waved it off with a knowing grin. “Ah, young love.”

As they stepped outside, paper bags in hand, Hori groaned. “Why does everyone assume that?!”

Miyamura glanced at her, expression unreadable. “Would it be that bad?”

She stopped in her tracks, startled. “Huh?”

He met her gaze. “If people thought we were a couple.”

Her voice caught in her throat.

“I mean,” he added quickly, “I know we’re not. But... I don’t mind being seen with you.”

She stared at him for a long moment.

And then, softer than she meant to speak: “I don’t mind it either.”

That evening, Miyamura visited again. Souta greeted him with his usual enthusiasm, dragging him to the living room to show off a drawing of a superhero with six arms.

As the younger boy babbled happily, Hori stood in the doorway, watching them.

He’s good with kids, she thought. Gentle. Patient. Nothing like the gloomy guy from school.

She stepped inside, holding two mugs of tea.

“You know,” she said, handing one to Miyamura, “Souta talks about you more than he talks about me now.”

Miyamura chuckled. “I’ll try not to steal your little brother.”

“Too late.”

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping tea as Souta hummed to himself.

Then, unexpectedly, Miyamura spoke. “Do you ever get tired?”

She glanced at him. “Tired?”

“Of doing everything. School. Home. Taking care of Souta. Being... the perfect Hori-san.”

Her eyes widened.

He wasn’t accusing. He wasn’t judging. He just saw her.

And the weight of that recognition hit her harder than she expected.

“Sometimes,” she whispered. “But if I stop, there’s no one else who will take over.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re strong.”

“I don’t want to be strong all the time.”

The words left her lips before she could pull them back.

Miyamura didn’t reply. Instead, he reached out and gently poked her forehead.

“You don’t have to be,” he said softly. “At least... not when I’m here.”

She blinked. Her breath caught.

It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t romantic in the usual sense. But it pierced through her defenses in a way no sweet words ever could.

He wasn’t just seeing the version of her that everyone else saw.

He was looking at all of her—and staying anyway.

The next day at school, the whispers began.

“I saw Hori and Miyamura walking together yesterday.”

“They were at the bakery. Like, together together.”

“No way. Isn’t Miyamura that gloomy guy?”

“Maybe he has blackmail on her or something.”

Hori heard them all.

She didn’t say anything at first. But when the snickering reached her desk, she stood up so suddenly the entire class fell quiet.

“Got something to say?” she asked, voice dangerously calm.

The students shrank back, murmuring apologies.

And from the back corner, Miyamura watched her—eyes wide.

Later that day, he caught up to her by the lockers.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” she said firmly.

He looked away. “People won’t stop talking.”

“Let them talk.”

He turned back to her, surprise on his face.

She stepped closer, voice softer now. “I don’t care what they think. You’re... important to me, okay?”

His eyes widened.

And for once, he couldn’t hide the small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

That night, lying in bed, Hori stared at the ceiling.

Important to me...

The words echoed in her head.

She hadn’t meant to say it. Not like that.

But now that it was out there... she didn’t want to take it back.

Maybe something really was changing between them.

Something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

But it was real.

And it was growing.

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