Hikaru Shimizu sat in the dim light of his room, surrounded by the soft hum of the evening rain tapping against the window. His pencil danced across the page, sketching the familiar contours of his own face, though in the drawing, he didn’t look quite like himself. His hand paused for a moment as a wave of melancholy washed over him—memories he couldn’t quite grasp, emotions he couldn’t fully explain. He closed his sketchbook with a sigh.

Turning his attention to the small, enchanted Frames on his desk, Hikaru carefully traced the edges of one. The magic in these Frames captured fragments of his life, playing them back in still images that shifted and blurred depending on his mood. His fingers hovered over the nearest Frame, which flickered to life, revealing a moment from a few years ago—his first day of high school. He remembered the nerves, the isolation, the way his footsteps echoed in the unfamiliar halls. The image was muted, as if the colors themselves had faded over time.

He placed the Frame back on the desk. Hikaru didn’t usually like to linger on his memories for too long. They had a way of making him feel incomplete, like a painting with too much white space. Besides, there was nothing particularly exciting about his life worth remembering.

But then, his gaze caught on something unusual.

One Frame, nestled among his collection, glowed brighter than the others. He hadn’t placed it there. His heart skipped a beat as he reached for it cautiously. This Frame was different—full of life, vibrant and brimming with energy, as if the memory itself was reaching out to him. The image inside wasn’t his own.

In the center of the Frame stood a boy. Hikaru blinked, confused. He didn’t recognize him, but the boy seemed strangely familiar. The figure had tousled auburn hair that caught the sunlight, his posture relaxed, almost carefree. His eyes—a striking golden-brown—gazed out of the Frame with an intensity that made Hikaru’s breath catch. The boy was smiling, his expression full of warmth and something else…adventure, maybe?

"Who…?" Hikaru murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

He had never seen this boy in his life, yet here he was, captured in one of Hikaru’s Frames as if he belonged there. Hikaru’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Frames only reflected a person’s own memories. They couldn’t show someone else’s life. Could they?

A knock at his door startled him. Hikaru quickly placed the mysterious Frame back among the others, hiding it under a stack of papers.

“Come in,” he called out, his voice still shaky from the discovery.

The door creaked open, and his grandmother, Ayame, stepped in, her silver hair tied back neatly as always. She glanced around the room, her keen eyes lingering on the scattered sketches and Frames before resting on Hikaru.

“Still working, I see,” she said with a gentle smile. “You’ve been in here all day.”

“I’m fine, Grandma,” Hikaru replied, trying to sound normal. “Just…thinking.”

Ayame moved closer, her hands resting on the back of his chair. “Thinking is good, but don’t get lost in those thoughts of yours. There’s a whole world outside this room, you know.” She tapped his sketchbook lightly. “And you have the gift to capture it.”

Hikaru nodded absentmindedly, though his thoughts were still swirling around the mysterious boy in the Frame. Could his grandmother sense that something was off? She was always so perceptive, but Hikaru wasn’t ready to share what he had found. Not yet.

Ayame sighed softly. “Dinner’s ready when you are. Don’t wait too long.”

As she left the room, closing the door behind her, Hikaru’s attention snapped back to the Frame. His fingers itched to pick it up again, to study the boy’s face, to understand why this stranger had appeared in his life. Against his better judgment, he retrieved it, staring at the image for what felt like an eternity.

Who was this boy? And why did he feel so drawn to him?

Suddenly, the Frame flickered. Hikaru’s eyes widened as the boy in the Frame moved. It wasn’t like the usual shifting of colors or fading that his memories did. The boy’s golden-brown eyes locked onto Hikaru’s, and for a split second, it felt like they were truly looking at each other. The smile on the boy’s face shifted into something softer, almost inviting.

Hikaru’s heart raced. This wasn’t normal. Frames didn’t move like this—at least, not on their own. He placed the Frame back on the desk and backed away, feeling his pulse quicken. He had never been the adventurous type, but something about this was calling to him, pulling him into a world he had no idea existed.

The rain outside intensified, its rhythm now matching the rapid beat of his heart. Hikaru stood frozen, staring at the glowing Frame. He knew, deep down, that this wasn’t a mistake. Whoever this boy was, his life had become entwined with Hikaru’s in a way he couldn’t yet understand.

And something told him that this was only the beginning.

The rain had slowed by the next morning, leaving a soft mist hanging over the streets. Hikaru barely slept, his mind swirling with thoughts of the mysterious boy. The image in the Frame felt more vivid in his memory now, like the colors were etched into his mind. Hikaru couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, that his quiet life had been irrevocably altered the moment he saw that boy.

He sat at the breakfast table, barely touching his food as his grandmother moved about the kitchen. She gave him a curious glance but said nothing. The silence between them was filled only by the clinking of dishes and the occasional murmur of the TV in the living room.

As soon as breakfast was over, Hikaru grabbed his bag and hurried out the door. He needed answers, and the only place that might offer any clue was the high school. Hikaru wasn’t even sure where to start looking for the boy, but something inside him pushed him forward, a strange certainty that he would find him.

The streets were wet, and the cool morning air brushed against his skin as he made his way to the school. His mind kept replaying the image from the Frame—the warmth in the boy’s eyes, the way he had smiled as if he knew Hikaru. But it was impossible. Hikaru had never seen him before, had he?

The moment he stepped through the gates of the school, the usual bustle of students felt more chaotic than ever. Everyone was moving around him, laughing, talking, existing in a world that felt distant from his own. Hikaru weaved through the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces of passing students, looking for any trace of the boy from the Frame.

He didn’t even know his name.

As Hikaru entered the school building, something strange happened. The crowd of students thinned, and for a brief moment, the world around him seemed to still. His breath caught in his throat. Standing just a few steps ahead of him was the boy.

Ryuu.

Hikaru didn’t know how he knew the name, but it came to him instinctively. The boy from the Frame—Ryuu—stood by his locker, casually leaning against the wall as if he had been waiting for him all along. His golden-brown eyes were just as bright as they were in the memory, and Hikaru’s heart skipped a beat as their gazes met.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The noise of the school faded into the background, and it was just the two of them, suspended in time.

Ryuu’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

“Hey,” Ryuu said, his voice easy and warm, as though they had been friends for years. “You’ve been staring at me for a while.”

Hikaru’s face flushed, and he immediately looked down, his heart racing. How could he explain that he had been drawn here by a Frame that somehow captured Ryuu’s image without ever meeting him before?

“I—uh…” Hikaru stammered, his words catching in his throat. He couldn’t find a way to explain the strange connection he felt, the reason he had been looking for Ryuu. Everything felt too surreal.

Ryuu raised an eyebrow, studying him with an amused expression. “You’re not much of a talker, huh?” He stepped closer, and Hikaru’s breath hitched. “What’s your name?”

“Hikaru,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ryuu tilted his head, his gaze never leaving Hikaru’s face. “Hikaru,” he repeated, as though testing how the name felt on his tongue. “Well, nice to meet you, Hikaru. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Hikaru’s heart pounded in his chest. “I… I don’t think so,” he muttered, though his own words sounded unconvincing.

Ryuu chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down Hikaru’s spine. “Maybe I’m just imagining things.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, but there was something deeper in his gaze, something Hikaru couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, Hikaru considered telling Ryuu about the Frame, about how he had appeared in it as if he belonged there. But the thought seemed too absurd, even in his own head. Instead, Hikaru nodded, feeling awkward and out of place.

“Hey,” Ryuu said suddenly, his voice taking on a more casual tone. “Do you wanna get some coffee after school? There’s this quiet café nearby. Good place to sketch, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

Hikaru blinked in surprise. The invitation caught him off guard, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. He barely knew Ryuu, yet the offer felt natural, like the next step in a story that was already unfolding between them.

“I…” Hikaru hesitated, unsure of what to say. But something inside him—the same force that had driven him to find Ryuu in the first place—pushed him to agree. “Sure.”

Ryuu smiled again, the warmth in his expression making Hikaru’s chest tighten. “Great. Meet me by the gates after school.”

With that, Ryuu gave him a casual wave and walked off, leaving Hikaru standing in the hallway, his mind spinning. None of this made sense. How could a boy he had never met feel so familiar? And why did his presence feel so right?

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Hikaru. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Ryuu, replaying their brief interaction over and over again. He couldn’t shake the feeling that their lives were somehow connected, that meeting Ryuu was no accident.

After school, Hikaru found himself waiting by the gates, just as Ryuu had asked. The misty rain from the morning had cleared, leaving the air crisp and cool. He watched the other students leave in groups, their laughter and chatter a distant hum in his ears.

And then, there he was. Ryuu walked up with the same confident stride, his leather bracelet around his wrist catching the light as he waved. “Ready?”

Hikaru nodded, and they began walking together, the distance between them shrinking with every step.

As they walked in comfortable silence, Hikaru couldn’t help but wonder: What kind of Frame would this moment create? Would it glow with the same strange vibrancy that had drawn him to Ryuu in the first place?

And more importantly, what other memories were waiting to unfold between them?

The small café Ryuu had mentioned sat tucked away on a quiet corner, its exterior lined with ivy and blooming flowers. The sign above the door read The Serene Brush, and through the windows, Hikaru could see the soft glow of warm lights and the faint silhouette of other customers seated in quiet conversation. It was peaceful, almost like stepping into another world—a place that felt out of time.

Ryuu pushed open the door, and the sound of a bell chimed softly above them. Inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of lavender from a vase on the counter. Hikaru followed Ryuu to a table in the corner, where they could sit in the cozy, quiet space.

“You ever been here before?” Ryuu asked as they took their seats.

Hikaru shook his head, still absorbing the atmosphere. The café was a perfect blend of old-world charm and artistic flair, with framed paintings lining the walls and books stacked in cozy nooks. It felt like the kind of place where someone could get lost in their thoughts—or in their sketches.

Ryuu seemed to sense Hikaru’s appreciation for the space and smiled knowingly. “Yeah, it’s a nice spot. I come here to think sometimes.”

Hikaru nodded, his mind still racing with the events of the day. The fact that he was sitting here with Ryuu felt surreal, like a dream he hadn’t quite woken up from. And yet, everything about it felt oddly right, as if this moment had been waiting to happen for a long time.

“So,” Ryuu said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s your story, Hikaru? You seem… different.”

Hikaru hesitated, unsure of how to respond. His story? He wasn’t even sure he knew it himself. How could he explain that he was just an ordinary boy who had somehow stumbled upon a mystery that felt too big for him to solve?

“I don’t know,” Hikaru said quietly. “I’m just… me.”

Ryuu chuckled softly, his golden eyes glinting with curiosity. “Come on, there’s gotta be more to you than that. You’re an artist, right?”

Hikaru’s eyes flickered down to his sketchbook, which he had brought along but hadn’t opened yet. He wasn’t used to talking about his art, especially not with someone like Ryuu, who seemed to radiate confidence. But there was something about the way Ryuu looked at him—like he was genuinely interested in hearing whatever Hikaru had to say.

“Yeah, I guess,” Hikaru mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “I like to draw… mostly things from my head.”

Ryuu leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “What kinds of things?”

Hikaru swallowed, feeling the pressure to answer, but unsure how much he could reveal. Should he tell Ryuu about the Frames? About how he had seen Ryuu’s face in one of them? The thought of sharing something so personal—so strange—made his stomach twist with nerves.

“Just… memories,” Hikaru said vaguely. “Things I can’t explain.”

Ryuu’s smile softened, and for a moment, he seemed to understand something unspoken. “Memories, huh? I get that.” He paused, glancing out the window as if lost in thought. “Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in other people’s memories too. Like I’m living in a world I didn’t quite create.”

Hikaru blinked, surprised. Ryuu’s words resonated with him in a way he hadn’t expected. The idea of living in someone else’s world—of being disconnected from your own memories—was something Hikaru knew all too well. But hearing Ryuu say it so casually made him wonder if there was more to this boy than the confident exterior he showed.

Before Hikaru could respond, Ryuu leaned back in his chair, his usual carefree grin returning. “But hey, enough about that. I wanna see your sketches. Show me what’s in that head of yours.”

Hikaru hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled out his sketchbook. His fingers trembled slightly as he flipped through the pages, each one revealing a glimpse into his mind—abstract drawings, half-finished faces, and landscapes that seemed to blur the line between reality and imagination.

Ryuu leaned in, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest. “These are amazing,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the edges of one of the pages. “You’ve got talent, Hikaru.”

Hikaru felt a blush creep up his cheeks. He wasn’t used to receiving compliments, especially not from someone like Ryuu, whose confidence seemed effortless. But there was something sincere in Ryuu’s words, something that made Hikaru feel seen in a way he hadn’t before.

“Thanks,” Hikaru muttered, glancing down at his sketchbook. But as he turned the page, his breath caught in his throat.

There, on the next page, was a drawing of Ryuu.

Hikaru froze, his heart racing. He didn’t remember drawing this. The sketch was rough but unmistakable—Ryuu’s sharp jawline, his tousled auburn hair, the glint of mischief in his eyes. It was as if Hikaru had captured him in a moment, frozen in time, yet full of life.

“How…” Hikaru stammered, his mind racing. How had this appeared in his sketchbook? He had never consciously drawn Ryuu before. The memory of the Frame flashed through his mind—the same boy, the same expression.

Ryuu’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw the sketch. “Whoa,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s me, isn’t it?”

Hikaru could only nod, his throat too tight to speak. How could he explain this? How could he tell Ryuu that he had somehow drawn him without even knowing him?

Ryuu didn’t seem phased. If anything, he seemed intrigued. “It’s pretty good,” he said with a laugh. “Looks like I’ve made a big impression on you, huh?”

Hikaru flushed, closing the sketchbook quickly. “I… I don’t know how it got there,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But Ryuu’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward again, resting his hand on the table between them. “You don’t have to explain, Hikaru. Sometimes things happen that we can’t understand. Maybe it’s fate.”

Hikaru looked up, his heart pounding. Fate? The word lingered in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Could that really be what this was? Was there some deeper connection between them, something neither of them could fully grasp yet?

Before Hikaru could respond, Ryuu’s phone buzzed on the table, breaking the moment. Ryuu glanced at it and sighed, his expression clouding briefly. “Sorry, I gotta take this,” he said, standing up. “But don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Hikaru nodded, watching as Ryuu walked outside to take the call. The café suddenly felt much quieter without him there, and Hikaru’s thoughts raced in the silence. He stared at his sketchbook, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity.

How had Ryuu’s face ended up in his art? And what did it mean?

As he sat there, alone with his thoughts, Hikaru’s gaze drifted to the window. Outside, the clouds had begun to part, letting a sliver of sunlight break through. The golden light bathed the street in warmth, and for a brief moment, Hikaru felt something strange—a pull, like a thread of fate connecting him to Ryuu, to the Frame, to something much bigger than himself.

And he couldn’t help but wonder: What was waiting for them on the other side of that connection?