Work Text:
Hanto had been told the photographer assigned to his latest piece was good. Quiet, but good.
The name he was given: Aikawa Hajime.
The man who showed up was shorter than Hanto expected, dressed plainly, camera already slung around his neck like it belonged there more than anything else. He looked to be in his early twenties. His expression was composed almost unreadable but his eyes carried something heavy.
Not sadness exactly.
Longing.
“Evening,” Hanto said, slipping easily into his professional tone as he extended a hand. “What would you prefer I call you?”
Aikawa hesitated a fraction before taking it. His grip was firm, cool. “Aikawa is fine. What do you need photographed?”
Straight to business. No wasted words.
“Right. A few shots to support the article,” Hanto replied. “I’ll show you the locations.”
Aikawa gave a small nod. That was all.
They moved through the city together , alleys, storefronts, a quiet riverside walkway.
Hanto explained framing ideas, angles, context. Aikawa listened without interrupting. When he lifted the camera, though, something shifted.
His posture steadied.
His focus sharpened.
And every time he looked through the lens, there was that same distant look in his eyes as if he were searching past the buildings, past the skyline, past the present moment.
As if he were waiting for someone who wasn’t there.
Hanto caught it more than once. The faint tightening in Aikawa’s jaw. The almost imperceptible softening whenever a gust of wind moved through the trees, like it reminded him of something or someone.
Not grief.
Not quite.
Hope that refused to die.
“That’s everything I needed,” Hanto said at last. “I appreciate it, Aikawa.”
Aikawa lowered the camera, meeting his gaze briefly. There was a flicker there guarded, but polite. “I’ll send the developed photos by next week.”
He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and turned to leave.
For just a second, as he walked away, he glanced down the street - not aimlessly, but deliberately.
Like he expected someone to appear.
Like he still believed they would.
Maybe someday somewhere