The train rolled through the countryside, slicing through foggy fields and hills with lazy determination. Ren sat by the window, his face pressed against the glass, watching droplets slide down like tiny racing stars. The sky outside matched his emotions—cloudy, heavy, restless.
It had been three weeks since the message at the shrine. Since the shared dream. Since the field trip to Yukinose was announced.
He hadn't told anyone why he was suddenly so excited for a cultural excursion. Not even Sota, who kept pestering him about acting like he was going to meet a secret girlfriend.
Maybe I am, Ren thought, clutching the small leather notebook he always carried. Inside were drawings, fragments of Aira's smile, and descriptions of the dreams. He flipped it open to one of her sketches—the hill with the shrine. He'd memorized every line, every angle.
When the train finally pulled into the quiet, fog-shrouded Yukinose Station, his heart thudded so hard he thought it might break his ribs.
"Welcome to Yukinose," the tour guide chirped.
But Ren wasn't listening.
He was already looking for her.
---
Aira had overslept.
She never overslept.
Her grandmother had teased her about it over breakfast. "Must've had one of those dreams again," Obaachan said.
Aira just smiled faintly, her thoughts too distant to explain. There was a strange pull in her chest. A thrum in the air that whispered something was different today.
She stood at the edge of town, just outside the tiny post office, watching as a stream of school buses arrived.
They were here.
Tourists. Students. City people with cameras and excitement in their eyes.
She wasn't sure why she had come here of all places. It was instinct. Like something had tugged her gently out of bed and placed her here like a piece on a board.
And then—
She saw him.
At first, it was just the shape of his back. He stepped off the last bus, slow and quiet, a little apart from the others.
Her breath caught.
He turned.
Their eyes met across the crowd.
It was like the world stopped breathing.
---
Neither of them spoke immediately.
They simply stared—locked in the unspoken, unable to process the surreal reality of the moment.
Then Ren smiled. Tentatively.
Aira took a step forward. Then another.
He met her halfway.
"…Ren?" she asked softly, though she already knew.
He nodded. "Aira."
The sound of her name in his voice made her eyes sting.
They stood in silence, barely inches apart. Around them, the bustle of the other students moved like a blur, irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was the person in front of them.
"I thought maybe I imagined you," Aira whispered.
Ren laughed, shaky. "I thought I was going insane."
Then came the most natural thing in the world: they hugged.
It wasn't romantic. Not yet. It was raw and warm and filled with all the things they hadn't been able to say through dreams and signs. Their bodies recognized what their hearts had known.
They were real.
---
They spent the afternoon walking through Yukinose. Aira led him to the shrine, now half-swallowed by morning mist and overgrown grass.
"This is where I first saw your name," she said, placing a hand on the wooden pillar.
"And this," Ren added, holding out the small ribbon she had tied weeks ago. "This was the first thing I touched that belonged to you."
She reached for it. Their fingers brushed. The air shimmered again.
Ren looked up at the sky. "It's going to rain."
"Good," Aira said. "That's when we always meet."
They stayed until the sky opened. Rain fell soft and steady, soaking them through, but neither cared.
Aira spun in it, laughing. Ren watched, his heart a tangle of wonder.
"You came all this way," she said.
"I would've gone farther."
---
That night, under the eaves of the shrine, they sat with a small lantern between them.
"I think the dreams are… fading," Aira admitted.
Ren nodded. "Because now we're awake."
A long silence.
"Do you think," she asked, "it was fate?"
He didn't answer at first.
Then: "No. I think it was us."
---
When the tour ended the next day, Ren didn't want to leave. But Aira promised they'd meet again.
This time, not in dreams.
But in the real world they now shared.
(To be continued…)