Archive of Our Own ^beta

Anyways, that changed a couple of weeks ago after I quit the basketball team. I’m not sure what kind of rumors had spread, but I found the trio subtly suggesting I should stay away. It was never anything major, just small things. In fact, I sometimes thought it might have all been in my head. They would say they were busy with something or other, or say that they were going to go eat elsewhere and apologize. If I really cared, I might have been able to just explain myself, but I took the hint.

The problem was that it was far too late in the school year to find a different group. Not to mention, we were getting close to graduating. I just had to deal with it.

Sometimes, I just wanted to fully adopt my delinquent persona and straight up skip school, but how would I spend my time then? I would have to wait until Sakura finished with her classes, and if I had to wait anyway, I might as well wait inside.

And just like that, I passed my time circling through those same thoughts, until finally, the lunch bell rang. It was time for my daily ritual of finding somewhere isolated to eat my lunch. I dragged myself out of my desk and began wandering aimlessly. I also didn’t have any lunch; I had to go buy something first, but I wasn’t feeling it at the moment.

Yes, I could have gone to Sakura’s class, but there were some issues. First, I was being a bit stubborn. I’d already told her she should have lunch with her own classmates, thinking it would be good if she’d make some other friends. I didn't want to back down from that so easily.

The other issue was that Tarumi was there. Tarumi was an old friend, but we had grown distant ever since we started middle school. I don’t know what I did to cross her, but she would glare daggers at me every time I went to pick Sakura. She always seemed as if she wanted to tell me something, possibly to start an argument, and that was the last thing I needed right now.

 

Eventually, I wandered all the way to the gym. I hadn’t been here since my near-fight, but it was open to students during lunch and nobody ever came, so it was a good enough spot to pass time. Well, we call it a gym, but it really is just four bare walls and a single court. No bleachers, no storage loft, just one big echoing space. It was kept clean, at least.

After walking for a bit, I sat down in Sakura’s spot, pressed against the wall by the court’s edge. I let my mind wander, but it didn’t settle on anything. I had no dreams, no goals, no plans. Just a big empty space where all that was supposed to be. Like this gym.

The floor under me was cold. The wall behind me felt even colder.

My phone was just there, in my pocket, but I didn’t feel like checking it. Scrolling through nonsense didn’t seem worth the effort. So I sat there. Let the quiet press down on me. Let the cold creep in. It wrapped around me, slowly embracing me. My arms felt heavy. Fighting the cold took energy — more than what I currently had. Staying still was easier. Safer, even. All I needed to do was let myself fall asleep…

Even if I stayed long past the end of the break, no one would come looking. Not the teachers. Not the girls from class. I could skip the rest of the day, let the hours pass, and it wouldn’t matter. Not to anyone else — and, if I'm being real, not even to me.

But come the end of the day, I had no doubt she would come.

At this time last year, I was running about during practice, and the cold didn’t even cross my mind. She waited patiently right here, every day, and she didn’t complain once. All just so we could hang out just a bit more. Was it worth the effort? Was I worth the effort? Deep down, I knew there wasn’t anything wrong with me. There just wasn’t anything at all.

Every muscle felt frozen, but I forced myself up. One foot first and then the other. Her presence was like a small, stubborn ember glowing in this freezing world. Being with her felt effortless, but maybe that was just because she did all the work. What if she stopped? Would we also drift apart? Standing still meant I might lose that warmth forever.

She was just over there, just a couple of walls and a pair of hallways between us. She wouldn't push me away; I just needed to reach her. Just extend my hand a little, and it would bump hers, like it always did.

I walked and walked, until finally, there she was: sitting by herself while looking expressionlessly through the window.

What I felt then was… relief? I also noticed I was slightly out of breadth and a bit sweaty. Not a trace remained of that creeping cold. I must have looked so silly standing there in the doorway. I decided to tease her a little because, why not? A small vengeance for making me run all this way.

With a grin, I silently approached and plopped down beside her —literally, on her chair— gently nudging her to the side.

Her eyes grew just a bit larger, about the length of a fingernail, as she turned to look at me. I giggled to myself but turned my head and stared at her desk, pretending to ignore her. In her desk, she had her lunch. A single bread from the cafeteria and mineral water. It was so simple… Was she really fine with just that?

She must have noticed me staring because she calmly broke her bread and held half over to me.

“Here, Shima…” Her voice was so soft it almost blended with the tick of the clock.

'Shima' was kind of her nickname for me. I say 'kind of' because I was sure my full name simply had too many syllables for her, and they ran out before she could finish saying it. When we were little, a few people used to call me that, but now she is the only one. I pointedly ignored a certain stare drilling into the back of my head and took the bread.

I bit into it like it was no big deal. She really didn't care about food, and I knew she would've handed me the whole thing if she thought I wouldn't refuse it — half was our literal halfway point. Also, I was a bit hungry by now.

“Hey, Sakura,” I said, leaning in, so our shoulders touched on the cramped seat. “Today, let’s go to my place. I have something I need to ask my mom.” Sitting on half a chair was awkward, especially with a skirt, but she didn’t even flinch. She gave me the smallest nod and lifted her water bottle to her lips, her eyes drifting back to the window. I smiled.

My teasing might not have worked like I intended, but somehow, it felt like a win.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

That day, I waited for my mom behind the door while kneeling on the floor. I ran here from the kitchen as soon as I saw her walking down the entrance way. My plan today involved making sure I was the very first thing she noticed after entering. Honestly, my relationship with her made it difficult to ask for a favor, so these weird comedy skits were ironically my best bet to be taken seriously.

As soon as the door began opening, I went straight into a full dogeza pose.

“Oh, revered matron of my lineage! Your humble daughter grovels before you! Please hear my plea!” I said in an overly exaggerated tone. Even dropped my voice a little, trying to sound all regal and dramatic.

“Very well, my first progeny, Hougetsu the Useless, we shall listen to thy wishes.” Tsk… she’s good. Didn’t miss a beat.

I just dropped the act and lifted my head to look at her. “Please teach me how to cook and help me make box lunches for me and Sakura.” I said in a single breath.

Huh. Out of everything I said, that part was what actually stunned her. She stood there with her mouth half open, without even a snarky comeback.

And then… the finishing blow. Sakura walked at a calm pace and gracefully kneeled beside me without saying a word. Her forehead to the floor. She already had a regal demeanor, so she pulled it off perfectly. I was taken by surprise since we never planned this or anything, but I decided to just roll with it and copied her. The whole thing was so ridiculous I almost burst out laughing.

“Sure…” was all Mom managed to say. I knew she’d get her revenge eventually, but for today?

I’d scored one against her. I was on a roll.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

It was now our final term in middle school. These last couple of weeks, school has been bearable, if not enjoyable.

We were walking down a courtyard corridor to our lunch spot when something unexpected happened. The girl from the basketball team was standing in our way with a wicked grin on her face.

“Hey, you,” she said, pointing not at me but at Sakura.

“Did you know Shimamura likes girls?” — Wait, what? Did I?

Ah, so this was the rumor that got to the girls in my class, and its source.

“If you don't watch out, she's going to try something on you, you know?” The girl taunted. The stigma was that girls who liked girls were some sort of predators, so she probably intended to isolate me by making use of that. She didn't care one bit if it was true or not. But she had made one fatal mistake. Just because Sakura was quiet didn't mean she was weak. Oh no.

“Hey! Are you listening?” The girl sounded more confused than angry. That was an actual question.

Sakura didn't react at all. Her eyes didn’t even land on her. I almost felt bad for the girl; she didn’t understand yet.

See, people think getting ignored means someone looked at you and decided not to answer. But this… this was worse. Sakura never even saw her.

Absolute indifference.

Such was the power of the Ice Queen of the school. The girl who had mastered the cold that had me so afraid and made it her own. Attempting to start something with her was beyond foolish.

“What… what’s wrong with her?” The girl's voice faltered; no trace left of her smug tone. This was nothing like what she was expecting. This was nothing. That’s what broke her. There was no anger. No insult. Not even pity. Just a flat, unreadable look.

She could’ve slapped Sakura across the face, and I swear she’d still get nothing back. Not if she had already decided you weren’t worth her time.

And here’s the kicker. If Sakura did do something back, it would be with the same blank stare. That’s an image you can't easily get out of your head. The stuff of nightmares.

The girl stepped back. Not because she'd lost, but because she realized she wasn’t even in the game. There was no game.

Sakura walked around her without a glance, like she was but an obstacle in the way. Like a lamp post. Or a trash can.

A few steps later, Sakura stopped and turned to look at me. Her right brow was slightly raised and her head lightly tilted. She was… confused? At me? I cracked up. She couldn't understand why I had stopped. The whole thing had ended before it even started.

“Alright, alright,” I said, catching up. We left behind the would-be bully frozen in place by her icy powers.

Funny thing how someone who could be so cold was somehow the warmest part of my life.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Today’s lunch was… cabbage. Just cabbage. I’d tried arranging it into little compartments in the lunchbox, but no matter what I did, it still tasted like... cabbage.

I sighed. Yeah, I know. I was the one who asked Mom to teach me how to cook, but apparently that meant that I have to pass certain culinary challenges every once in a while. This one was part of the single ingredient lunch series. Last week was rice, which wasn’t too bad. But this? Sigh… To be fair, she was properly teaching me how to cook. She was also buying ingredients for the two of us, so I didn’t really have much room to complain. Still, at this rate, we might need to look for part-time jobs soon so we can buy something better.

Sakura and I were sitting in our usual spot for lunch. It was a nice place by the shade of a magnificent cherry tree in the courtyard —or it would be magnificent if it was in season —and it would have shade if it were sunny… Yeah, we were sitting in the dirt by a dead tree in the freezing cold of winter.

Kind of a shame I waited so long to start having lunch with her. If it were spring, we could’ve had daily little picnics here. Then again, I bet the place gets crowded when it’s warm. At least now, we had it to ourselves.

“Is it good?” I asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded, chopsticks still in her mouth. It wasn’t good… but Sakura never complained. Not even when I managed to mess something up so badly it turned unrecognizable. In fact, she was already halfway through her cabbage, while mine was still mostly untouched. It was nice that she didn't complain, but I couldn't help but hope for something more. I wanted her to enjoy lunch, not endure it.

Trying to distract myself from the sad little green heaps in front of me, I looked at her for a while. She looked so calm. Graceful, even. How was she pulling that off, sitting in the dirt, eating cabbage in the cold?

That reminded me, I had something to check. I shifted around so that I was sitting in front of her. Carefully, I took the chopsticks from her hands and moved her lunchbox to the side. Then, with no warning, I cupped her cheeks in both hands.

She flinched. Just a little. My hands were cold, but that wasn’t the point this time.

I pulled her face closer and stared.

Did I like girls? It was something that had been floating in my head ever since that dumb rumor spread. I'll be the first to admit I had never given it much thought.

Sakura was pretty. No question about it. I turned her face slightly, inspecting her from different angles.

Was this what 'liking' meant? Just thinking they were pretty? Probably not. Everyone thought she was pretty. She even placed third in that ridiculous 'prettiest girl in class' poll the boys in her class made. It was a huge scandal when the teachers found out, so everybody knew. I also had a great time when I told Ms. Adachi about it. Tarumi placed, fifth, I think.

Would I think a boy was pretty if I tried inspecting one like this? “Pretty” didn't feel like the right word. Cool? Handsome? Somehow, I felt that Sakura would beat them even then.

I tried recalling the face of one of the boys and… came up blank.

Hmm, I noticed her cheeks had gone a little red from the touch of my cold hands and suddenly felt bad for grabbing her like that. I'd have to give up for now.

As an apology, I gave her half of my remaining cabbage.

 

 

 

One day, right at the start of lunch, Sakura came over to my desk. She was holding her bookbag up to her face, hiding behind it for some reason.

“H-Hey, Shima… um… lunch… can we… just us?” Her voice was shaky as always, but with the bag covering her face, it was even harder to hear. Still, I think I got what she meant.

“You want to eat lunch with just the two of us? Yeah, sure.” I nodded, giving her a small smile. Honestly, I thought she would’ve asked something like that way earlier. For the past few weeks, we’d been having lunch with Hino and Nagafuji. Not every day, as they usually bought stuff from the cafeteria while we always brought our own, but like three times a week.

Sakura sort of got along with them. I think. Most of the time, Hino and Nagafuji just spoke with each other, occasionally remembering we were there and throwing us a question or two. They understood Sakura well enough when she nodded or gave short answers, but when they asked anything more complicated, I had to step in and translate.

Sakura never complained about them, but then again, she never really complained about anything.

Still, Hino and Nagafuji were easy to hang out with. Like today, we could just stand up and leave and it wouldn’t be a big deal. They’d naturally spend time by themselves, no questions asked. Four-person dynamics with two pairs of childhood friends was easy mode.

We went to a quiet spot in the courtyard. Since Sakura had gone out of her way to ask, I figured she might have something she wanted to talk about. I only brought my lunchbox, but she still had her whole bag with her.

The courtyard was peaceful, with only a few students scattered around. The grass was soft and cool beneath us, and the air still carried the faint scent of blooming flowers. It was the start of summer, but the heat hadn’t fully settled in yet. It was just warm enough to feel pleasant. Sakura sat in her usual seiza pose, her knees pressed neatly to the ground, her back straight.

I sat in front of her and took my time opening my lunch, as she seemed to still need some more time to get ready.

Eventually, she opened her bag and, with both hands, handed me a stack of papers.

A manuscript? I recognized the printed pattern on the paper. It was the kind we used for homework essays. Her handwriting was unmistakable.

“I… I tried to put my thoughts in writing. Like you said,” Sakura explained.

I blinked, staring at the pages in my hands. I’d meant for her to make a list or jot down some notes, but this was… a novel? Or at least part of one. I suddenly felt excited to read it.

Not to sound like her mother, but it was sometimes hard to understand what went through Sakura’s head. Getting a handful of words out of her was an ordeal, and I literally had to keep a list of what each of her expressions meant in the Adachi Note.

This manuscript was a rare peek into her mind, and I honestly couldn’t wait to read it. It might as well have been a national treasure.

I looked through the pages while eating my lunch, trying not to get any food on them. Sakura kept glancing at me while she herself ate hers. It took a while to get through, mostly because her nerves were making me feel on edge too.

When I finally finished, I closed my lunchbox and set the manuscript down.

“Give me a moment to sort my thoughts,” I said, crossing my arms.

Sakura hurriedly finished the last bites of her lunch and returned to her usual stance. She looked like she was awaiting judgment; her unblinking eyes were fixed on me.

Okay, time to actually sort my thoughts. It was a short story simply labeled as “Chapter 1,” so I could assume it was the start of something longer. From what I could tell, it was very well written. The sentences flowed smoothly, the characters were memorable and relatable, and the pacing felt just right. Not that I was any sort of literary expert or anything.

The story itself was about two high school girls who skipped class to play ping-pong. The girls had no names, but I figured that this was just a draft or something. It was interesting enough, but I had no idea what Sakura was trying to say with it.

Was she simply telling me she wanted to play ping-pong with me? I didn’t think so. If that was all, she could’ve just asked. She’d gotten better at that recently.

Maybe ping-pong was a metaphor for something? In the story, I got the feeling that the game symbolized the girls’ budding relationship, the way they took turns protecting it, like bouncing a ball back and forth.
But I didn’t think that metaphor applied to us. We were more like a basketball that just bounced in place, and our friendship had long passed its budding phase.

While I was deep in my thoughts, I took a peek at Sakura. She was giving me puppy eyes and was inching ever closer to me. I needed to give her an answer, or those eyes were going to crush my poor heart.

“First of all, let me tell you it was very good. Very well written. Good job, Sakura.” I reached out and patted her head, like I did after every test she aced. Which was all of them.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and her lips curved into the faintest smile. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was happy.

What to say next was the harder part. I wanted to be kind and tell her I understood, but that would’ve been a lie. If she was serious about getting better at expressing herself, she needed honest feedback in return.

“Now, in regards to the message you wanted to convey… I’m sorry to say you’ll need to write a couple more chapters so I can get it.” I gave her a sheepish smile, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

Sakura tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. She didn’t look upset, which was a relief.

I wasn’t big into literature or anything, just your average high school girl, but if she wanted her story to be understood by anyone, my opinion had to count for something.

She then went into her “thinking mode.” It was only the second time I’d seen her like this, the first being when we met Hino and Nagafuji. I think I get it; this was how she writes her story, right?

She was going to be stuck in her head for a while, so I quietly cleaned up her lunchbox, stacking it neatly with mine. Then I carefully slid her manuscript back into her bag, making sure the pages didn’t crumple. When everything was packed up, I stood up.

“Come on, let’s get to class.” I said.

Sakura didn’t even look up, but she reflexively held her hand so I could take it. It was muscle memory, an instinct born from years of practice.

I couldn’t help but smile. Even when she was lost in her own world, she still followed me without hesitation.

Sakura was making progress, in her own way. So now I figured it was my turn. Maybe I should give her something? You know, to show I noticed she was trying. Like a little reward.

Maybe I could bake her something nice. Or maybe a small gift?

The problem was, we didn't have any money. I sighed…

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Today was a Saturday, but we wore our school uniforms anyway. To put it simply, we lacked anything else remotely formal.

We’d found a place looking for part-time workers—or rather, Ms. Adachi had, after we asked her. Apparently, she knew the owner, but it was impossible to get any real details out of that woman.

“It’s supposed to be a place near the station that’s looking for waiters,” I said, recapping what little we knew as we made our way there on Sakura’s bike.

“A part-time job…” Sakura murmured from behind me, her voice tinged with hesitation. She didn’t sound thrilled, and honestly, I couldn’t blame her. Working would take us both way out of our comfort zones.

But we had to push through this; at least I felt we did. Neither of us was particularly good at dealing with people, and we'd have to make a living eventually.

And so we went, weaving through the usual weekend crowds, until we reached one of the many Chinese restaurants clustered around the station. The name on the sign was faded, and a plastic lucky cat waved its paw at no one in particular. The place was empty, making me wonder if it was even open.

The owner welcomed us at the door. She was a Chinese woman who looked to be in her thirties, though her sharp eyeliner and thick makeup made it hard to tell for sure. Her gaze was unreadable, like she didn’t care about a single thing but would get whatever she wanted anyway.

“Come,” she said.

No further explanation.

She led us to a small back room. A single table sat in the middle, illuminated by a lone hanging bulb. The walls were bare, and the air had a tick smell of burnt oil. It felt like we were about to confess to a crime.

Sakura and I sat side by side, with our shoulders touching. We’d rehearsed the night before over the phone, preparing for questions like, “Why would you like to work here?” and “Where do you see yourself in five years?” but we didn't really know what to expect.

We waited in silence.

Then—

“Stand,” the woman ordered.

We stood.

She circled us slowly, her eyes scanning us like we were produce at a discount grocer. I almost reached out to grab Sakura’s hand and bolt the heck out of here, but before I could, the woman disappeared into the back without a word.

Sakura glanced at me with a concerned expression. “What… was that?”

“I have no idea,” I replied honestly.

While we waited, I silently examined the room for exit options, just in case we really needed to make a run for it.

The owner returned moments later, carrying two neatly folded bundles of cloth.

“Put this on,” she said, pointing toward a small changing area with lockers and a bench.

The silence between Sakura and me thickened. She threw me a questioning glance, but I just shrugged. What else could we do?

Once inside the changing room, we opened the bundles. They were dresses. Chinese dresses. Cheongsam, I think they were called. I’d seen them in period dramas, but never in real life.

“We’re applying as waiters… Right?” I asked aloud but got no answer.

I took the red dress and left the blue one for Sakura. Changing in an unfamiliar place was a bit embarrassing, but at least Sakura was with me. She didn’t seem to hesitate as much as I did, so I just resigned myself.

My dress went down to just above the knees, with small slits on both sides. Even with the slits, it was longer than our uniform’s skirt, so it should be fine, though it was still embarrassing.

Sakura’s dress was deep blue. It was longer than mine, reaching well below her knees, but the single slit on the side went high enough to make me blush. I tried averting my eyes but ended up looking again a second later.

Sakura had always had a mature presence, and the dress gave her a certain dignified air. Even as she frantically tried to pull down on it. Her dark hair and eyes matched the fabric perfectly, and for a moment, I pictured her holding a fan over her mouth, looking down on me like some kind of noblewoman looking down on a peasant. But I squashed the thought immediately. I didn’t need any new weird urges waking up in me.

On the other hand, I looked like a kid playing dress-up. The dress tried to stick to my outline, but it didn't have much to work with, so it ended up wrinkled in places. I sighed again and decided to focus on Sakura instead.

“You look cute,” I said, trying to add a casual smile. Point-blank compliments was item #8 in the Adachi Note.

Her eyes flicked toward me, and for a split second, I thought I saw her cheeks turn pink. “Y-You too, Shima,” she replied, her voice soft and a little awkward. I was glad to hear it, but I knew she probably just said it out of courtesy.

We took a couple more minutes to fix our hairstyles and wear the weird cloth shoes that came with the dresses, then went to look for the owner. She was in the kitchen, but just left it untended and came to where we were. Was that alright?

She looked us up and down again, her sharp gaze lingering for longer than what I was comfortable with. Then she nodded slowly.

“You’re young. That’s good,” she said flatly. “You’re hired.”

That was it.

I blinked. “Wait, that was the interview?”

The woman didn’t answer. She simply turned and walked back into the kitchen, leaving us standing there.

Sakura looked as confused as I felt. “I guess… we got the job?”

“Yeah, I guess we did,” I said, still trying to process what had just happened.

I glanced down at the dress again; the cheap red fabric and the golden details reflected some light from the hanging bulb. This wasn't me. It felt strange. As if I were just wearing a costume.

Was this how adults felt when they went to work?

It made me feel a bit uneasy, like I’d stepped into someone else’s life for a moment—but then I looked at Sakura, standing beside me in her own deep blue dress. Things would be alright as long as she was with me.

“I guess we’re waiters now,” I said, giving her a small smile. “Let’s hope we don’t mess it up.”

Sakura nodded.

It fell to me to follow the owner into the kitchen and sort out some details. At first, she wanted to spread our shifts across the whole week, with each one of us taking turns every day after school. But there was no way I was agreeing to that. Either both of us worked together, or neither of us did.

Somehow, I managed to strong-arm her into agreeing to our terms. We’d be working two shifts during the week and a longer one on the weekend. We also agreed on our pay, but I can't tell if it was good or bad; I had never worked before.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Our first day of work arrived a couple of days later. It was a school day.

We were back in the interview room. It still felt like a police detective would walk in at any moment.

The owner had us sit down again. This time, there was no inspection, but instead, she opened a binder. Its pages were laminated, and yet they were somehow torn anyway.

It was a menu, and she began going through it.

There were prices to memorize, add-ons and modifiers for each item, and various quirks that made me question whether this was an actual restaurant or an elaborate scam. Apparently, several restaurants in the area shared the same menu, but none of them had the same stock. Some dishes didn’t even resemble the photos.

“If someone asks for this,” she said, pointing at an image of what seemed like sweet-and-sour pork, “you say we don’t have ingredients.”

I nodded vaguely, struggling to remember which dish that was. Hopefully, the customers wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Sakura, on the other hand, seemed very focused. Her eyes didn’t drift once. She nodded along with her usual calm expression.

After she was done, the owner sent us to stand at the entrance in our full Chinese dress glory. I took the left side, and Sakura took the right. We were like a pair of matching decorative dolls, standing stiffly in the doorway.

We waited. And waited.

The restaurant was small, with just a few tables, and the only background music was the whir of an ancient ceiling fan and the metallic noise of the plastic cat near the door. My feet were already starting to hurt, and I was beginning to wonder if anyone would even show up.

Eventually, a couple came in, a man and a woman. They looked like university students.

I straightened my posture. I could do this. I was the most social one. I couldn’t leave this to Sakura.

“Welcome!” I said it a little too loudly.

“Uh, table for… for two, right?” I added, motioning them toward a table. “Please, this way.”

I handed them the menus but noticed the woman stealing glances at the slit in my dress. It made me self-conscious, and I ended up only half paying attention to their order.

They asked for something with shrimp. I nodded. And tea. I went back to the kitchen to repeat just that, but the proprietress yelled back at me. Apparently, there were three items on the menu with shrimp and seven kinds of tea.

Sigh. This was not as easy as it seemed.

While I made my walk of shame back to the customers to have them repeat their order, I noticed a new pair of customers had arrived. I had left Sakura by herself. Would she be alright?

Her voice was low but clear. “Welcome.”

She bowed, motioned them to a table, and handed over menus as if she’d been doing it for years. When they ordered, she repeated everything back mechanically, in the same flat tone the proprietress had used. Even the weird Chinese-named items. Then she walked to the kitchen and said, “Shrimp and chive dumplings. Jasmine tea, hot. One spicy beef noodle, mild spice.”

She was good.

Where was that timid girl who stumbled over every other word? I wondered.

Her cold demeanor seemed to make her able to handle customers with ease. I swear, she made even “we don’t have ingredients” sound elegant. Couldn't she at least fix the grammar a bit? Meanwhile, I was still fumbling my way through every shift.

Our first week of work passed in a blur of mistakes. Regular noodles got swapped with soy ones. Sesame balls were offered when we didn’t have any. A couple of plates were broken… Once, I even gave a dish meant for one table to the one behind and only realized it when the two men swapped their dishes.

Sakura ended up covering for me most of the time. She’d skillfully walk beside me to apologize to the customers and explain what was actually available, or discretely walk to the kitchen to correct some of the orders I had given to the owner. Even though she started working here on the same day I did, it felt like she was my senpai. I was quickly losing my confidence.

If I got fired, would Sakura keep working here? She was doing a good job, and I’d feel guilty if she quit because of me. She deserved better than being dragged down by my lack of skill.

And then, one afternoon, the proprietress stopped in front of me, arms crossed. The stove behind her was still sizzling. I gulped as I braced myself for another scolding.

“I have to run to wholesaler,” she said. “You handle the kitchen.”

“Huh?”

Before I could say anything else, she was gone.

Me? In the kitchen?

I stared at the kitchen for a moment, still wearing the Chinese dress, feeling like I’d been thrown into a battlefield with no armor. Then I gave my cheeks a small clap. If I took too long, the food in the stove would burn. It was fine. I could do this. Probably.

An apron sat in a pile in the corner, and I grabbed it, tying it around my waist. Improvising a ponytail with some string. If only I had Sakura’s headband with me…

The kitchen was small and cluttered, with mismatched containers of soy sauce, chili oil, and vinegar lining the shelves. But I recognized them all. I’d done this before. I just had to pretend this was my own kitchen.

For a moment, I stood there, watching the rice and collecting my courage, hoping no orders would come in. But soon enough, Sakura appeared at the small window separating the kitchen from the floor.

“Fried rice with egg and spring onion… Green tea,” she said. Her voice was steady, but her expression was tinged with worry.

“Simple enough,” I replied with forced confidence.

The rice was already cooked. I could do this.

The rest of the ingredients were easy to find, and somehow, I managed to prepare the dish without much trouble. Sakura took it to the customers, and shortly after, she came back with the next order.

“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed slightly, her worry more obvious now.

“Define okay…” was all I managed to reply. The job was not physically taxing, but it was stressful.

Still, she repeated the order, and I did my best with that dish too. And the next one. And the one after that.
By the time the owner returned, three tables had been served, and no one had complained. I was sick of the smell of soy sauce and garlic, and I was starting to feel the ache in my arms from stirring and plating.

She paused at the doorway, her sharp gaze scanning the tables. I think she was trying to judge the customers’ reactions. Then she turned to me with her usual, unreadable expression.

“Huh.”

That was it. Just “huh.” But after years of dealing with Sakura’s word economy, I wasn’t fazed.

She paused again, then said, “From now on, you help in the kitchen.”

I just nodded, too tired to protest.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

A couple of weeks later, I found myself at a discount store with Hino and Nagafuji. Sakura wasn’t with us today—she'd been called over by a teacher and had to stay behind.

I wonder why they called up to her. She hadn't skipped any classes or even cleaning duty, I would know, and her grades were top tier.

And yeah, I could’ve waited for her, but I decided this was a good chance to get her a present. We’d just gotten our first paychecks this past weekend, and I wanted to use mine on something meaningful.

“How about this, Shimamu-chan?” Hino asked, holding up a bizarre wooden carving of what looked like an Amazonian mask. The nickname she gave me was weird, but by now, I knew that there was no point in trying to correct her.

“Ehm, I was thinking on something she could use to write…” Maybe some essay pages or a binder? Something practical.

“You’re too naive, Hino,” Nagafuji declared, stepping between us. “What the girl needs is one of these.” She held up a wooden boomerang, its colorful patterns matching the mask.

What was I even thinking by inviting these two along?

“Did you really forget her name again?! We talk to her every day!” Hino shouted, her voice echoing through the empty store.

“I didn’t! I know it starts with an A,” Nagafuji replied, completely oblivious.

I simply ignored them and left them to their own devices.

After browsing for a bit, I found a fountain pen in a glass display case. It was sleek and black, with a faint tinge of blue that reminded me of Sakura’s eyes. The price tag made me hesitate. It was more expensive than what I’d planned to spend.

Sakura and I had already set aside enough money for our lunches this month. She’d wanted to pay for all of it, arguing that I was the one making them, but I’d managed to convince her to split the cost. Even so, buying the pen would use up almost all of my remaining money.

I considered it for a moment, weighing other options, but ultimately, I knew I couldn’t leave without it. The truth was, I never would’ve applied for a part-time job to begin with if it weren’t for Sakura. And I might’ve also been fired already if it weren’t for her. This money might as well have been hers.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

The next day, during lunch, we went to the same quiet spot in the courtyard we’d found some time ago. The grass was soft beneath us, and the summer heat wasn't so bad today.

When we sat down, Sakura handed me the second chapter of her story. This one focused on one of the girls as she went fishing.

Did Sakura want to go fishing? I felt like Hino would be over the moon if we asked her. However, the rest of the story involved a weird alien girl, and once again, it lost me.

“I’m afraid this is still too complicated for me…” I told her honestly. “But I’m looking forward to what comes next. Good job.” I gave her a smile and her well-deserved pat on the head.

Sakura’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and her lips curved into the faintest smile. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was happy.

“I also have something for you today,” I said when I was done patting her head. I reached into my bag and handed her the small box with the fountain pen.

Her eyes lit up the moment she saw it. She hadn’t even opened it yet, but her excitement was already worth the money.

“Ah!” she said softly, breaking her staredown with the box. Then she reached into her own bag and pulled out a large, squished box. I had wondered why her bag looked so full today.

“I… also… for you…” she stammered, pushing the box toward me.

Inside, I could once again see a white cloth, which made me laugh to myself. Maybe this time it really was a protest sign.

Inside was an old-school cooking apron. Not the kind you’d see in anime, but the kind old women wore in small towns. It was a little unwieldy, but it would definitely keep my uniform safe. I was grateful.

“Thank you, Sakura,” I said, giving her a warm smile.

Then, unexpectedly, she looked down, closed her eyes, and held her arms wide open in front of her, like a toddler asking for a hug. I froze for a moment, stunned. But I couldn’t keep her waiting long. It was fine. You rehearsed this. Play it cool.

I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her.

She was nervously shaking, which surprised me, and yet somehow, it ended up making me feel more relaxed. She felt so small in my arms, so precious.

Just as I was about to loosen my hold, my eyes landed on the apron lying beside us. She's bought that with her first-ever paycheck. She had thought about me first.

Sakura shifted slightly, as if she wanted to end the hug, but I tightened my hold. She was going to have to wait a bit longer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today, we were going on an overnight trip to visit my mom’s family.

My mom had me loading what felt like a million things into the car, her annoyance evident with every extra box she made me carry. She wasn’t thrilled when I told her I wanted to bring Sakura along this year.

To be honest, this wasn’t the first time I’d asked. When I was younger, I’d even thrown a few tantrums over it. But this time was different—I wasn’t going to back down. I told myself I’d stay calm, but if it came to it, I was ready to make a scene.

There was someone in that town who needed to meet Sakura, and next year might be too late.

Besides, Sakura had gotten into an argument with her mom recently. She wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but I could tell it was serious. She’d been staying at my house for the past few days, and I would rather not leave her alone over the break.

The one to speak up for Sakura was my dad, of all people. “Just let her,” he said, looking up from his newspaper during dinner. “That girl might as well be part of our family by now.”

That was surprisingly sweet of him.

In the end, my mom relented, though she was still salty about it. I was carrying the last of the boxes when she called out to me.

“Hurry it up!” she said, “your wife is already waiting in the car.”

Crap. I turned away as fast as I could so she wouldn’t see me blush. But I was not fast enough…

“Wait —really?” she said with a knowing smile.

She’d probably called Sakura that just to mess with me for inviting her to a family trip, but now she was going to get the wrong idea…

If I tried to deny it, it would only get worse, so with nothing else I could do, I pretended to ignore her and walked off to the car.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

Our car could comfortably fit five people, but my parents had crammed it so full of luggage and presents that the trunk wasn’t enough and the middle seat in the back had to be piled up with bags.

Of course, I couldn’t complain, seeing as how I was the one who had invited one extra person. I’d already resigned myself to carrying my sister on my lap for the whole trip, but that turned out to be unnecessary, as she was happily sitting in Sakura’s lap instead.

Sakura had a blank look on her face as she stared out the window, probably lost in thoughts about the next chapter of her novel.

My sister kept bouncing up and down on her lap, trying to make her react. She seemed to be having a lot of fun. I couldn't help but envy how close the two of them had grown.

The ride was quiet and uneventful. Outside the window, the countryside blurred past us, with fields growing larger with every kilometer, while houses grew fewer and farther between. Only the soft, steady hum of the engine filled the quietness, like a gentle lullaby for the road.

At some point, my sister had fallen asleep, her head resting gently against Sakura’s chest. With each of Sakura’s slow breaths, my sister’s body rose and fell, like a small boat drifting on calm water. Sakura didn’t seem to mind, as she just kept staring out the window, quiet and lost in thought.

Watching them like that stirred something warm and bittersweet inside me. Sakura was taller than me now—maybe, if I let myself, I could fall asleep like that too. For a moment, I wished I hadn’t left the Adachi Note behind. This felt like the kind of moment that might make her blush.

It would be item #12, I thought, making a mental note to write it down later.

It was already dark by the time we arrived at my grandmother’s house. The old building, standing quietly at the edge of the fields, seemed smaller than what I remembered. A few lights were on inside, casting a dim, warm glow through the windows.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, the summer heat hit me like a wave. The air was heavy and dry, clinging to my skin with a suffocating.

Dismissing the feeling, I let my eyes wander across the house. Insects buzzed noisily against the porch lights, and past them, I could see the old dog house. Empty and dark. My chest tightened as I remembered how weak he looked the last time I was here…

I didn’t have to wonder for long. The front door creaked open, and there he was—Gon. My old friend stepped out into the light, his tail wagging furiously, even though his movements were slower than when he was younger.

“Gon!” I shouted, running to meet him. He let out a soft bark, his tail thumping against the ground as I knelt to hug him. His fur was warm and a little rough, but I didn’t care. I’d missed him so much.

It wasn’t until I looked up that I noticed my grandmother standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the light behind her. She smiled.

“Hello, little Hougetsu,” her voice was warm and welcoming. “You too, Yoshika,” she added, turning to my mom who had walked up beside me.

Gon wagged his tail harder, his whole body trembling with excitement. He leaned into me, his movements a little shaky. Back when he was younger, he would’ve run circles around me, barking and jumping like he couldn’t contain himself. Now, his energy was still there, but it was muted, like a fire burning low.

Even so, he was happy. And so was I.

“It’s not fair how he only likes you,” my sister grumbled, walking to my side with a pout. Sakura followed quietly behind her, her usual calm expression in place.

“And who might this pretty young lady be?” my grandmother asked with a cordial smile, inching closer to get a better look at Sakura.

“This!” my mom began, her tone exaggerated and teasing. “Is the newest member of our—”
I stomped on her foot before she could finish.

“This is Sakura. She’s my friend, Grandma.” I said cutting her off.

“Ah, yes. Of course, I remember,” my grandmother replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure if she actually did. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure if I’d ever mentioned Sakura to her before.

“It's nice meeting you, ma'am.” Sakura said in her customer service voice, followed by a perfect bow.

“What a well-behaved girl,” my grandmother said with a smile and a clap of her hands. “Don’t just stand out here—come inside. I’ve got Yoshika’s old room ready for you. It might be a bit cramped with three girls, but it’ll do.”

She turned and headed back toward the house, the wooden steps creaking softly beneath her. Gon followed close behind, his tail swaying gently as he went.

“Go with her,” my mom said, wincing dramatically as she rubbed her heel. “I have to go find my father.” Then, without waiting for a reply, she stood up and disappeared into the depths of the house. A few seconds later, I could faintly hear her shouting my grandfather’s name somewhere far inside.

We hurried after my grandmother, and it wasn’t until we were halfway to the room that I realized we’d left my dad outside with all the luggage. I felt a little guilty, but he’s used to it. He’d manage.

The house was just as I remembered. The faint smell of old wood, the slightly uneven floorboards, and the warm, cozy atmosphere made it feel as if time had stopped moving here a long time ago.

“You girls must be tired after the long trip. You should get to bed early tonight,” my grandmother said, giving us all a once-over. “And don’t worry about anything tonight. Just rest. Gon and I need our sleep too. We’re old folk now, you know.”

She left us in what used to be my mother’s room. It was the same one my sister and I always used when we visited. The furniture was minimal: a small desk by the window, a narrow dresser, and a single, flat bed that definitely wouldn’t fit all three of us. The room still had that faint, musty smell of old paper.

I opened the sliding closet doors to find a neat stack of folded futons and spare blankets. My sister joined me, and together we began pulling them out and laying them across the tatami. The floor creaked under our weight.

Sakura sat quietly on the edge of the bed, with her hands folded in her lap. She looked a little tense, like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. My sister was already moving on to the pillows, so I left her to finish up and went to sit beside Sakura. I was the one who brought her here, after all.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, reaching for her hand. “I’ve wanted you to meet the rest of my family for a long time.”

“They are… very lively,” she said with an awkward smile. She’d always struggled a bit with new people. I knew she was trying, and I appreciated it more than I could say.

I smiled. “You’ll get used to them in no time, you’ll see. My grandmother is actually really into literature. She might even be able to help you with your novel.”

That caught her interest. She looked at me, then nodded slowly.

Both of my grandparents have always loved reading. That’s actually how they met. Something about a book club and an argument about which Murakami was better. They told us the story pretty much every year, but I never really understood. I’ve always suspected that their passion for certain authors is part of the reason I ended up with my name.

I glanced over at the floor and noticed my sister standing proudly, having only set up two futons.

Of course.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

 

When I woke up the next morning, the room was empty. The air was already hot, sweat made my clothes stick to my skin, and the sound of insects buzzing outside felt far too loud.

I stood up and stretched lazily before heading toward the dining room, where I could hear voices.

“Huh, and you think that would be enough to provide for two people? Or will she be the only one paying the bills?” My grandmother’s voice sounded strangely confrontational.

“I’ll make sure it is enough,” was Sakura’s reply. Her tone was oddly resolute. I felt a tinge of worry and quickened my pace.

“Still, I won’t approve of you until you show me what you’re capable of,” my grandmother said.

What were they talking about? It almost sounded like Sakura was trying to win my grandmother’s blessing or something. My face grew warm as I sped up.

When I reached the dining room, the scene that greeted me was… not what I’d expected.

Sakura was sitting across from my grandmother, handing over her manuscript.

… Oh. Right. The novel. Duh.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling a bit dumb for jumping to conclusions. Sakura's manuscript had grown pretty thick these last few months, and the story was getting more interesting. I'm not saying that as her friend, she had some real skill, even if her message remained just as obtuse. I was looking forward to the last few chapters.

My grandmother noticed me standing in the doorway and gave me a nod. “She’s got the fire, at least. I’ll give you that,” she said, then gave me a wink.

Uh? What were they talking about…?

Grandmother grabbed her glasses and left with the manuscript, muttering something about getting into it right away.

“What was that all about?” I asked, stepping further into the room.

Sakura looked away, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

 

 

After that, I quickly made us some scrambled eggs, with just a pinch of pepper and some spices I found lying around, then sat down to eat with just Sakura.

“Where’s everybody?” I asked, looking around. I had woken pretty late.

“They said they were going to the town,” Sakura answered as she began eating her breakfast.

I could guess why. My mom still had plenty of old friends here, and she loved showing off how much her kids had grown. She used to drag me along for that when I was younger, parading me around like some kind of trophy. But this year it was my sister’s turn. I was old news now.

“Oh well, whatever. Come with me after breakfast. I have somewhere I want to show you.” This was the main reason I’d invited Sakura.

We took our time eating, chatting about nothing in particular. It wasn’t often that we had breakfast alone, and the unusual atmosphere of the old house made it feel as if we were in a secluded inn somewhere far away. Like a vacation with just the two of us.

The thought made me feel warm. At that moment, a new dream took shape in my mind: a short vacation, just the two of us, away from everything else.

It seems Sakura had once again given me something new to look forward to.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It was something I had to make happen.

I watched Sakura closely, as usual, catching the faintest shift in her expression as she took another bite. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was enjoying it, even if just a little. For someone who never seemed to care much about food, that was saying something. Enough to make me feel like the effort had been worth it.

After dropping our plates in the sink, I grabbed her wrist and started pulling her toward the back exit. But then I felt someone staring. A low growl followed.

“Gon!” I said, immediately crouching down to hug him. He was giving Sakura the stink eye.

“Are you girls going out?” my grandmother called from the back; she must have heard us.

“We are!” I shouted back. “And we’re taking Gon with us.”

“Good. Be careful out there,” she said as she returned to her seat.

My grandmother was reviewing Sakura’s manuscript, flipping through the pages one by one with a focused expression. The stack of pages she’d already gone through sat beside her, bristling with colorful post-it notes sticking out at odd angles. The top page of the pile was covered to the brim with corrections made in bold red marker, filling almost every corner. The page she was working on now looked just about the same.

“Huh, looks like you’re going to have your work cut out for you,” I said to Sakura, who had also noticed and was now wearing a complicated expression. I tapped her shoulder to reassure her.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

As soon as I slid the door open, a wave of hot air hit my face. It was relentless.

I wanted to reach out and grab Sakura’s hand to start walking, but Gon stepped between us, growling at her once again.

“Sakura is fine, Gon. She’s a friend,” I said, crouching down to pat his head. “Try to get along with her.”

Sakura gave Gon a small, respectful bow, and I could’ve sworn he huffed in return. Such a weird pair, these two.

In the end, I had to walk between them, with Gon on one side and Sakura on the other. However, Gon could not easily keep up with my pace and ended up trailing behind us.

Just past the old doghouse and the crumbling fence was the entrance to a small forest. When I was a kid, I spent hours running around under those trees. I knew every trail, every weird-shaped rock, and every tree with branches low enough to climb. Even now, I could probably walk through it with my eyes closed. Gon, of course, had been with me the whole time. He most likely knew the place better than anyone.

But now he could no longer run ahead of me like he did back then. His steps had grown slower, his movements careful. He kept his nose close to the ground, as if he couldn’t trust his eyes to guide him anymore. I slowed my pace to match his, glancing back every so often to make sure he was keeping up.

Sakura walked by my side quietly, her gaze drifting from tree to tree. I could see how all of this was unfamiliar to her. Had she ever even been to a forest trail before? Not with me, at least. She didn’t say much, but I could tell she was taking everything in. Every now and then, though, I caught her looking at me instead of the trees, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was really on her mind.

The forest was filled with hiking trails; some were little more than deer paths, while others were worn smooth from years of use.

We followed one of the less-used routes, stepping over thick roots and ducking under low branches. The heat didn’t let up much, even under the trees, but the air smelled fresh, filled with an earthy scent of plants and the faint sweetness of wildflowers. For me, it was a nostalgic smell.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, we arrived. A large, flat rock stretched out over a narrow stream that trickled lazily below. The water wasn’t deep, but it was clear, and tiny fish darted around in the sunlight.

It took longer than what I had expected. Gon’s pace had stretched the walk out, but I didn’t mind.

This spot had been my favorite since forever. I used to sit here for hours together with Gon, throwing pebbles into the stream and watching the ripples spread. It hadn’t changed at all.

I climbed first and sat down, patting the space next to me for Sakura to join. Gon flopped down on my other side, with his tail wagging as he rested his head on his paws. He seemed ready to take a nap but was doing his best to keep a wary eye on Sakura.

This was it. All I wanted was to sit in this spot with these two. I didn’t fully understand the significance behind it, but I knew it was something I had to do to move forward.

Every year, I used to come here to give myself a breather. A small break from school, from my family, from forced friendships. From forced smiles. This was the place where I could regain my strength, where I could recharge just enough to withstand one more year.

Gon would always stand watch over me. Patiently. No matter how long I took. Even if I stayed here past his lunchtime, he’d wait…

The steady murmur of the river that had once wrapped the two of us now sang for three. But soon, it will be back to two.

I am going to be alright, Gon.

I wanted Gon to know that he had nothing to worry about. That I was not going to be alone.

Sakura sat beside me, her gaze fixed on the clear stream. The sunlight danced on the water, and the shimmer reflected beautifully in her eyes.

I loved her.

I wasn’t ready to tell her just yet, but at least I could now tell myself.

Without her, I had nothing. Average grades, average looks, a poor sense of style, and a nasty habit of oversleeping. I didn’t think I could change any of that. Who else would want to spend their life with someone like me?

The thought weighed on me, heavier and more suffocating than the summer heat.

I needed her.

But what about her?

Her grades were excellent, and her looks beyond compare. She could make even the most absurd of outfits look dignified. She could calmly deal with adults. She was diligent, organized, punctual, responsible. She had so much going for her, and I had so little…

We wouldn’t have even met if it weren’t for that one teacher all those years ago. I was just lucky to be the first one to become her friend.

Sometimes it felt like she’d slip away the moment I blinked. And if she did, then I would be alone for good this time.

I had to trap her.

But not with a chain of friendship. No, I needed us to be in a relationship that went beyond that. One that would allow me to be even more selfish.

The guilt crept over my skin.

Just when the panicked thoughts were about to overwhelm me, I felt a warm hand on top of mine. Of course, she noticed. She always did. On my other side, Gon leaned against me, his fur rough but comforting, his tail wagging as he snuggled close. He didn’t need words to reassure me. Neither of them did.

I wanted to be with her. However, I could never be the one to confess.

I simply wouldn't be able to bear the guilt of chaining her to my side, but if she were the one to hold out the chain, I would clasp it around my own wrists without hesitation.

I had to make her fall for me.

Resting my head on Sakura's shoulder, I let myself relax until I fell asleep.

 

The third alarm rang, its heartless tone cutting my sleep short.

I'd only set three alarms, so this was my last chance. If I didn't get up now, I really would be late. The old me might not have cared about something like that, but today was different.

Today I had a date. Well, sort of.

Sakura had mentioned needing to go to the mall to pick up something, and I'd jumped at the chance to turn our little outing into something more. Not that I told her that, of course. I managed to keep it casual, saying something like, “Let's meet at the station by the mart at noon.”

It would've been easier to just meet at my house or have Sakura stay over like usual, but I wanted to make this feel special. I'd been filling the Adachi Note with ideas of places we could go, though honestly, I was just looking forward to spending time with her.

But my bed felt impossibly warm today, like it was trying to trap me under the covers.

My room lay quiet and dim around me, the only sound being the persistent vibration of my phone. I reached out blindly to silence it, my hair sticking uncomfortably to the side of my face as I squinted at the glowing screen.

Nine o'clock. Much too early for a weekend, but if I wanted to look even halfway presentable, I had to start getting ready now.

I had promised myself that this time I would make a conscious effort not to run away.

Thankfully, I'd prepared my outfit the night before—not that I'd ever admit that to anyone. The blue jeans I'd carefully folded and placed next to my bed were waiting for me, along with the cream-colored long-sleeved shirt I'd finally chosen.

As I pulled the shirt over my head, the soft fabric clung to me with static, making my hair stand up in ridiculous directions. Still half asleep, I found myself wrestling with the sleeves, which seemed determined to twist themselves inside out. But once the static settled and I smoothed everything down, the material felt wonderfully warm and cozy against my skin. So comfortable, in fact, that I had to fight the dangerous urge to crawl right back under my covers and forget about everything.

But I couldn't do that. Not today.

I shuffled over to my mirror and took a long look at myself. The jeans fit well, and the cream color of the shirt matched the color of my hair. I looked… okay, I guess.

The thought made me wonder: what kind of outfits would Sakura actually like on me? I knew her own style by heart. She was elegant, put-together, and effortlessly beautiful, but I had no clue what she'd want to see me wear. The only outfit she'd ever really complimented was that ridiculous Chinese dress from our part-time job.

For a split second, the image of myself showing up to our date in that dress flashed through my mind.

And I immediately shook my head, heat rushing to my cheeks. Absolutely not. That was never happening.

After one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my phone and headed downstairs, doing my best to avoid making a sound.

But it didn’t work. I was crouched by the front door, lacing up my sneakers, when my mom’s voice drifted over from the dining table.

“Well, well. Look who is trying to look respectable today.” I could hear the smirk in her voice without even looking. “That's not one of your usual ratty t-shirts.”

I didn't bother turning around; I just focused on tugging my laces tight. “It's just a shirt, Mom.”

“Uh-huh.” She wasn't buying it. “And I suppose that it's not brand new either?”

“Coincidence.” I straightened up and reached for the door handle, hoping to escape before she could dig any deeper.

“You better be back by eight! And no getting swept off your feet, okay, young lady?”

I stepped outside, letting the cool autumn air hit my face as I closed the door behind me.

Today was going to be different. Today, I was going to do the sweeping.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

I took a moment to catch my breath after reaching the station, rubbing my hands together to warm them up. The half-hour walk in the chilly morning air had been totally worth it, though, as I was actually early for once.

Wait, when was the last time I'd been early for anything?

Come to think of it, when was the last time I'd put this much effort into… well, anything? Just a couple of years ago, I probably would've rolled out of bed five minutes before we were supposed to meet and shown up in whatever clothes I could find.

I had changed quite a bit, hadn't I?

I tried to picture my middle school self. The girl who'd bounce her basketball alone, acting like she didn't care if anyone joined her or not. She was probably just one bad day away from deciding people weren't worth the trouble.

I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn't met Sakura when I did. Would I be completely alone by now?

To put it simply, I had always lacked motivation. The fear of losing her had given me just that.

I also lacked courage. The courage to admit that someone could be important to me. Sakura had also given me that.

How would that lonely girl look if we gave her the motivation to want something more, and the courage to make it happen?

What came to mind was an energetic preschool girl running ahead of her friends with a dumb smile on her face. The girl everyone used to call “Shima.”

Huh. Perhaps she had never really faded away like I once thought. And I knew who I had to thank for that.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Okay, my step one to make our meet feel more like a real date was to show up with something romantic. Or, at least, romantic-ish?

After searching the internet for ideas, I ended up deciding to get her a flower. Which seemed sweet in theory, but now that I was actually here, staring at the little flower stall tucked away past the vending machines, I was having second thoughts.

Would Sakura even like getting flowers? Do girls give other girls flowers? Is that weird? Normal? I had no idea.

Buying flowers seemed like it should be as easy as buying something to eat from a stall, but the thing is, in those cases people would assume it's for yourself. But flowers? Flowers practically scream that you are giving them to someone else. The flower lady would probably take one look at my face and know exactly what was going on.

Ugh, why was this so much harder than I thought it would be?

Peeking from my hiding place, I spotted the flower vendor. She was an elderly woman with soft white hair and a face that seemed permanently creased into a kind smile. She looked like someone's sweet grandmother.

Maybe this wouldn't be so scary after all.

“E-Excuse me! Could I have a… a flower?” My words were uneven, rough, and they stumbled to get out. They reminded me of Sakura. Was this how she felt when talking to me?

I fumbled for my purse to show I meant to pay, my hands trembling as I struggled with the zipper. “Sorry, I just—”

“Take your time, dear,” she said warmly, watching me finally fish out a 500 yen coin.

“Look at you, all dressed up,” she said with a knowing grin, turning to the flower display. “Special occasion?”

Did I really look that different? First my mom, now this lady.

I scratched my cheek, trying to play it cool. “It's just… comfortable.”

“Uh-huh.” She started selecting flowers. “Is it a boy?”

My face burned. “Um, not exactly…” I turned away to stare at a very interesting, completely blank wall.

Her smile grew even warmer as she kept adding flowers to her growing bundle. “She must be very special then, getting you up this early and dressed so nicely.”

When I looked up, she was wrapping what had to be twenty flowers in paper, creating a massive bouquet.

“…I only need one,” I said, confused, holding up my coin with still-shaking hands.

She pushed the enormous bouquet toward me, and I had no choice but to catch it with both arms. “This one's on the house.”

I blinked. “Wait—no, I can pay—”

But she waved me off. “Think of it as an investment.” Her tone was so kind, I couldn't bring myself to refuse.

“Thanks,” I said, quietly. “It's not… I mean, it's not really like that yet, but…"

The lady chuckled. “Sweetheart, it never is.” Her knowing smile told a million stories.

I walked away from the station clutching an oversized bouquet that felt heavier than it should have.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

The bouquet rustled with every step, its sheer size making me feel like I was heading to someone's graduation ceremony. Though I did enjoy the smell of the flowers. It was sweet and fresh.

How was I supposed to hand this massive thing to Sakura? My original plan had been one simple flower that I could pass off as an impulse buy. This bouquet screamed that I planned this.

My phone showed it was a bit before eleven. Still had an hour to kill, but I couldn't keep wandering around the station carrying what looked like a small garden, so I headed toward our meeting spot.

Except someone was already there.

Sakura.

My heart did this weird little skip as I spotted her leaning against the guardrail, completely relaxed and lost in thought.

Her fitted black button-up shirt was tucked perfectly into a gray pleated skirt that flowed down to her ankles, paired with sleek black boots that made her look even taller than usual. A thin gray sweater draped over her shoulders, the sleeves just short enough to show her delicate wrists, and a simple black choker completed the whole look.

She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine. How was she always so effortlessly perfect? I give her a 10 out of 10.

Sakura looked completely at peace, like she'd settled in for a long wait and didn't mind at all. There was something practiced about the way she stood there without checking her phone or looking for any distractions. Just… waiting. Like she was used to it.

Oh god. This wasn't the first time, was it?

All those times, Sakura showed up “exactly on time”—she hadn't just arrived. She'd probably been waiting. Every single time.

Every morning when she came to walk with me to school. Every weekend when she'd appear at my door exactly when we'd planned to meet. How long had she been standing outside my house in the cold?

How long had she been waiting here today? An hour? More?

My chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing all the air out of my lungs. All this time, I'd been so casual about everything—showing up whenever, figuring she'd understand if I was late because that's just how I was. But she'd been making sure she was never late for me, even if it meant sitting alone and waiting.

I'd been such a selfish idiot.

I walked over without hesitation and held the giant bouquet toward her. This wasn't about my silly dating plan anymore—it was an apology for all the times I'd made her wait without even realizing it.

It didn't have nearly enough flowers.

“Sorry, I'm late,” I said, despite having arrived an hour early.

Surprised, Sakura blinked and gave me a confused smile.

“I-I… just got here...” she said hesitantly, despite having waited for who knew how long.

A beat passed. The bouquet rustled between us, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Um, what is that?” Sakura asked eventually, tilting her head as I remained frozen in my pose.

I pushed the bouquet closer to her face, my heart hammering. “These are for you.”

Her eyes widened, and for just a moment, I caught something vulnerable in her expression before she carefully composed herself again. “For… me?”

“Mm-hmm.” I looked away, heat creeping up my neck. “It's what follows the 'I just got here' line, right?”

There was no arguing with my logic. She took the bouquet carefully, her fingers brushing mine for just a second.

“Thank you, Shima. They're…” she paused, studying my face as if picking her words carefully, “…really beautiful. But also really big.”

“It's a long story,” I said, then started to walk away before realizing I couldn't grab her hand. Maybe the bouquet wasn't such a great idea after all. Wait, it wasn't even my idea to begin with.

Sakura hadn't moved from her spot, still cradling the massive arrangement. “I really do appreciate this, but…” She looked almost apologetic. “I don't think I can carry this around all day.”

She had a point. A very practical, very Sakura point.

“Locker?”

“Locker.”

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Our first stop, according to my carefully crafted Adachi Note, was supposed to be finding a nice spot for an early lunch.

Except it was barely past eleven. Way too early for lunch. My brilliant plan was already crumbling before we'd even started.

Where to take her…

That's when I spotted the doughnut shop near the entrance, and suddenly remembered Sakura's novel. In her story, the girls' first date got interrupted by some weird alien character who was obsessed with doughnuts. If her writing was based on things she actually wanted to try, then this was perfect.

I grabbed her hand without thinking and charged toward the shop. “Come on, let's get some doughnuts!”

Okay, goal number two: I absolutely had to pay for everything. The internet had been pretty useless for girl-on-girl dating advice, but paying for your date seemed like the basics. And thanks to our part-time job, I actually had money for once.

“Sakura, go grab us a table,” I said, pointing toward the very empty shop.

“But I can just—” she started to protest.

“No, no!” I practically shoved her toward the seating area. “Get that table by the window! It's the best spot and always fills up first!”

I had absolutely no idea if that was true. We'd never even been here before.

Sakura gave me a completely baffled look, but obediently walked over to claim a four-person table by the window, glancing back at me like I'd lost my mind.

Which, honestly, I probably had.

I approached the counter and ordered two glazed doughnuts, which was apparently the only item on their menu. The cashier was… definitely something else. Even standing on what looked like a wooden crate, she barely reached my height. She couldn't be much taller than my little sister. A disposable mask covered the lower half of her face, while oversized sunglasses completely hid her eyes. Most of her hair was tucked under a triangular headscarf, but I could see bright blue strands peeking out around the edges.

Was she in witness protection or something? Maybe she was some kind of internet celebrity trying to work a normal job incognito? I looked around discreetly for hidden cameras but didn't spot any.

Without saying a single word, she cheerfully handed me the tray and gave me a little shooing motion back toward Sakura.

Weird kid.

As I walked back to our table, I got a good look at what she'd prepared for us. Two polished white plates, each with a single glazed doughnut positioned in the exact center like it was some kind of gourmet meal. Around each plate, she'd arranged a full set of silverware, as if we were about to tackle a seven-course meal instead of, you know, doughnuts you eat with your hands.

Either this place took their service very seriously, or that blue-haired girl had a very interesting sense of humor.

I decided to lean into this absurdity and mess with Sakura. I'd already pretended to know this place, so I might as well commit to the bit.

First, I slid around to her side of the table, gently nudging her over and stealing her seat. I hadn't sat next to her like this since middle school. It felt unexpectedly nostalgic.

Then, with the most serious expression I could muster, I placed her glorified doughnut in front of her like a professional waitress. Which I guess I technically was. Or, well, I'd worked as a waitress for about a week before getting moved to the kitchen.

I carefully rearranged her silverware with precision, organizing each piece by size like I'd seen in fancy movies. Next, I grabbed a paper napkin and folded it into a perfect square before leaning over to tuck it delicately into her choker.

My face heated up at the closeness, but I kept my expression completely professional.

Sakura watched this entire performance with growing bewilderment, but I wasn't finished. I set up my own plate with the same ridiculous formality, then picked up my knife and fork to begin cutting my doughnut like it was an expensive steak.

“Please,” I said with complete seriousness, “eat it before it gets cold.”

It was already cold. It was a doughnut.

Sakura stared at me for a long moment, then down at her elaborately presented pastry, then back at me. I watched something shift in her expression. There was the tiniest crack in her usual composure, just a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

That's when I felt my own serious facade starting to crumble.

It started small. Just a tiny wheeze that escaped before I could stop it. But that single sound was like a dam breaking. Sakura's shoulders started shaking, and suddenly, we were both laughing. Really laughing. The kind of laughter that bubbles up from somewhere deep and takes over your whole body. The kind that makes your stomach ache and your eyes water.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard Sakura laugh like this—completely unguarded. And I definitely couldn't remember the last time I'd let myself laugh this freely, especially not in public. We probably looked completely ridiculous.

But I didn't care. This felt like something precious. A moment that would stick with both of us long after we'd forgotten what we were even laughing about. Like we'd found a piece of ourselves we'd been hiding, even from each other.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

For my third goal of the day, I hadn't really planned where to go, but I knew what I needed to do.

Goal number three: fishing for compliments!

This was literally the only dating advice I'd found online that was specifically tailored toward girls. The website said the important part wasn't actually getting praised, but making your date really think about how you look, getting them to focus on you.

And I had prepared my bait beforehand. My family was split down the middle about my hair; Mom and my sister hated the bleaching, while Dad and Grandma thought it looked good. I genuinely wanted Sakura's opinion, but if I happened to get a compliment out of it too, well, that would just be a bonus.

“Say, Sakura,” I said as we wandered past the shop windows, trying to keep my voice casual, “do you think I should keep bleaching my hair?”

“Hmm…” She stopped walking and turned to face me, her brow furrowing in concentration as she stepped closer to get a better look.

My heartbeat immediately kicked into overdrive. I could barely keep a straight face as she studied me so intently.

Sakura seemed to be giving it serious thought, tilting her head slightly as she examined my hair color in the mall's bright lighting.

With her left hand, she reached out and gently grabbed a strand of my hair, combing her fingers through it with careful attention. I could feel the soft tug as she examined the color.

This was dangerous territory. I was going to completely melt under her touch at this rate.

I was doing my best to stay composed, but she delivered the final blow when she pulled a bit harder, drawing the strand—and my face—closer to hers for a better look. That familiar heat started rushing to my cheeks like a tidal wave.

I jerked back abruptly and bent forward in the most awkward bow imaginable, practically shoving the top of my head toward her face.

“S-See? My roots are already showing my natural color,” I stammered, my voice cracking embarrassingly. This pose was mortifying, but it was still better than letting her see me turn red from something as simple as having my hair pulled. I just prayed my ears weren't burning bright enough for her to notice from this angle.

Sakura stepped back too, pausing to examine her fingers like she was still thinking about the texture of my hair. The brief moment gave me just enough time to take a shaky breath and will the fire in my cheeks to die down.

“I think I l-like it as it is now,” she said with her usual stammer.

“I s-see…” was all I could say with my brand-new stammer. Maybe it was contagious. Still feeling flustered, I quickly brushed that same strand behind my ear, using my hand as a makeshift shield to hide half my face. It was the exact piece she'd just been touching.

“As it is now… I think we complement each other,” Sakura continued thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?” I peeked at her from behind my hand, curiosity overriding my embarrassment.

“Well, you like dressing in colors that match your hair, right? This way, my clothes will always be in darker tones while yours stay lighter. We'll look good together.”

So she had been paying attention to how I dressed. A grin spread across my face before I could stop it—I felt so validated.

I still didn't know what kind of outfits she liked, but now I knew she liked us matching. If I couldn't look cute by myself, maybe we could look cute together? The thought sent another wave of shyness through me, and I had to cover my entire face with both hands this time, certain that Sakura would definitely notice how red I was getting.

“Shima, you…” I peeked through my fingers to see Sakura watching me with a rare soft expression. “You're acting particularly c-cute today…”

And with that, my brain completely shorted out.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

I had a dream.

Sakura and I attended some sort of  fancy all-girls academy for rich ladies. We wore long, dark-colored uniforms, and we weren't allowed to run or the pleats in our skirts would wrinkle. I ran after Sakura all the time anyway, calling her "Onee-sama."  
  
Our schoolmates were all beautiful girls named after the flowers in the bouquet we'd left at the station. Since our uniforms were identical, our main defining features were our hair colors.

Now that I think about it, our hair colors complementing each other was a big deal, wasn't it?

In yuri manga, there was always one girl with light-colored hair and another with dark-colored hair. Maybe it was a sign that I had a chance? Not that I read that much yuri anyway. I only had a few dozen volumes hidden under my bed, like any normal teenager.

 

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

“Shima? Are you back with us?”

Sakura's sweet voice slowly pulled me back into reality. Sort of.

Looking around, I noticed we were sitting in a pair of chairs in some sort of waiting room. Sakura must have dragged me all the way here. Was this how she felt when she zoned out?

This place looked like some sort of clinic. She didn't bring me to a hospital, did she?

—Wait, would I need to explain to the doctor that I blacked out after receiving a compliment from my childhood friend, whom I was very obviously in love with?

“Miss Adachi, right?” A woman in a lab coat approached us, and Sakura stood up and nodded. “We've got your test results. If you could please follow me this way…” The woman pointed to a desk that was too far away for me to overhear them.

My brain immediately spiraled into the worst possible scenario. This was exactly like those tragic manga where one girl secretly has some terminal illness. She'd be all ethereally beautiful and mysterious about her condition while slowly wasting away. Then there'd be that devastating final chapter where she passes away just as the cherry blossoms bloom, leaving behind only a half-finished love letter. I hated that setting with a passion.

Before my still-stunned brain could go too deep into that rabbit hole, Sakura had already returned and was standing in front of me.

“So, what do you think?” she said with a nervous smile.

Glasses.

She was wearing a pretty pair of circular glasses. They complemented her face very well, softening her naturally cold demeanor quite a bit.

This was my chance. My final goal for the day: give her a sincere compliment.

You did a number on my poor heart last time, so you'd better be prepared.

“You look adorable!”

I forced the biggest smile I could manage, showing off every last tooth I possibly could. I probably looked like a grinning idiot, but so be it—I'd be the biggest idiot if that's what it took.

Sakura looked a bit dizzy after that. She must not be used to the prescription of her new glasses yet.

I quickly stood up and offered her my arm for support, as if she were a noble lady. Sakura took it, her fingers curling just above my elbow.

I almost shied away and pushed her off, but I noticed she was actually leaning on me as we walked. She really did need the support.

 

I escorted my friend back to her house in what felt like both the longest and the shortest walk of my life.

We had stopped by the locker to pick up the oversized bouquet. I handed it back to her while dropping to one knee, just to mess with her. Sakura only rolled her eyes and took it without a word, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

As she stepped inside and closed the door, she gave me a small wave before locking it.

 

I’d see her tomorrow. Like always. But somehow, even that brief pause felt unbearable. Every goodbye, no matter how small, felt like letting go of something I wasn’t ready to lose.

 

I didn’t want to let her go. Not tonight. Not ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

High School Year 1, Christmas

Yoshika's POV

 

---

 

Every Christmas, our families have dinner together.

The clock on the wall marked ten just as I finished clearing the last plate from the table. Outside, light snow was falling quietly under the streetlights, while inside, the colorful decorations made the living room feel lively.

I hate to admit it, but dinner was really good. I’ve been teaching Hougetsu how to cook for almost two years by now, and she keeps getting better and better. She doesn’t realize it, but she’s got real talent. Honestly, she might already be better than me. I’m not sure how to feel about that.

This year, I had her make Japanese-style quiche, which is not an easy recipe. One has to prepare the onions, mushrooms, peppers, and potatoes, each with their own set of nuances; then the pastry, which not only has to taste good but also has to hold together. She complained the whole time, yet prepared everything perfectly.

She has a special talent for spices. Most people barely manage with just salt and pepper, but she can already handle six or seven different ones and still make it taste right. It's normally very hard to notice how a little bit of something changes the flavor of the entire dish. I never taught her how to do that; what sort of training did she go through?

And all of this just so her childhood friend could have a better lunch at school.

Atsuka unzipped her designer bag and pulled out a brand-new bottle of red wine. Then she smiled towards me, as if showing off a treasure. She did this every year.

I’m not a good drinker, but this is the one time of year I can have a real conversation with her, so I always play along.

Before Atsuka could remove the cork, little Hougetsu spotted the bottle. Then, without the slightest hint of hesitation, she stood up, grabbed little Sakura’s hand, and led her out the front door. I guess she wanted to save her friend from her mom’s usual rants.

She used to be so lazy, only thinking about herself. Now, she only thinks about that girl. She’s grown up so much and yet so little.

With the two of them gone, the dining table looked oddly out of place—like a stage after the lead actors had left. The lights felt too bright, and the silence was unnaturally deep, almost echoing. Even the air seemed colder, missing the warmth they radiated whenever they were together.

We naturally moved to the living room without exchanging a word. I took the armchair and left Atsuka to sit on the sofa.

Her wine glass sat empty on the table, so I reached for the bottle and poured, filling her glass all the way.

“Here,” I said, sliding it over.

She took it in a practiced motion without turning to face me. “Thanks,” she said, her voice sharp as ever.

I lifted my own empty glass and watched the light shine through it. “How’s little Sakura doing these days?”

Atsuka swirled her glass, which was somehow already half empty. “Difficult, as always.” Her words were like a knife. I had to praise little Hougetsu for predicting that this would happen and taking her friend out.

I leaned forward, placing one of my elbows on my knee. “I heard you two had a fight not too long ago.”

She snorted and drank the rest of her glass in one go. When she put it down, it rattled on the table. “Of course she told you. That freeloader can’t keep her mouth shut.”

I laughed a little. Hougetsu doesn’t really talk much, but compared to both Adachis, I suppose she does.

Atsuka’s shoulders slumped. I held to the bottle, making sure her glass would remain empty for a bit longer.

“They offered Sakura a scholarship,” she said finally. “A school in Tokyo, connected to a top university.”

I felt a cold knot in my chest, but I nodded. “Not surprising. She’s always been smart.”

I had always hoped my own daughter would pick up some of that, but no luck. For the older one, anyway.

“I was even ready to move to Tokyo myself. But in the end, she refused.” Atsuka’s eyes flickered, but I couldn’t read her face. I refilled her glass, just half.

“Thanks,” she said, her tone a little softer.

There was no way little Sakura would accept. I knew that, and I think Atsuka did too. Only my hard-headed daughter wouldn’t notice.

“The school called again yesterday,” Atsuka said, staring at her reflection in the wine. “They’ll still take her in April if she wants to. She can start her second year there.”

My heart thudded a little. I traced the rim of my glass with my finger. “And what do you want?”

Atsuka leaned back, holding her response for a while. She looked tired. “I want her to have every chance. There's only so much I can give her.”

“Should I force her to go?” She asked me with an unusual hesitant tone. She wanted me to give her an answer so she could avoid the consequences. She was that kind of woman.

But I put my glass down. “All we can do is give them the choice,” I said. “That’s as far as our job as mothers goes.”

“I never went to college, you know? Never even had that choice.” Her eyes seemed to be looking far at a past she'll never tell anyone about. “I think I want to at least take her all the way to the door.”

She put her own glass down on the table and nodded to herself.

“I've decided. I'll have her take the entrance exams. That way, at the very least, she'll know she has what it takes.” She finished. Once she made up her mind, there was no way to change it. She was that kind of woman.

The entrance exams would last around ten days. They would have to stay in Tokyo the entire time.

“Just be careful. If you push too hard, those two might actually try to run away.” I told her, but I didn't really believe that my daughter would ever do that. What Atsuka needs to realize, is that she is the one that will be left behind if they ever do.

Atsuka let out a sharp snort. “Two sixteen-year-olds wouldn’t last a week out there.” She filled her glass to the brim.

“They might still be willing to risk it.” I looked at Atsuka while giving her a forced shrug. The lamplight cast a shadow over her eyes, making her look colder than what she really was.

Lowering my voice, I asked her, “Do you know what matters most to Sakura?”

Atsuka didn’t answer. She just took a sip of her wine.

After a long while, she finally spoke.

“That girl's world is actually very small.”

I know, which is why she would be able to just pack it all up. All she needs to take with her is one single person.

“What those two have… it’s enviable.” I told her my honest thoughts. There's barely any room for either of us in their future, which is why we must treat them with care.

I leaned back, letting myself drown in my thoughts for a bit.

Anyone would be jealous. They’ve known each other for as long as they can remember. They never fight, never even raise their voices. They don’t talk much, yet they always know what the other is thinking.

What's the longest they have been apart from each other? Three days?

They'll never know the pain of having no one at your side. The regret of having met someone too late. The emptiness of having to break up with someone you once thought was the right one…

Sometimes, it feels like the entire world is just a backdrop for their play. It’s almost like someone out there is making sure the script never strays too far.

With her threat to separate them, Atsuka was casting herself as the villain in their otherwise pristine story.

I wonder, would their guardian angel feel the need to intervene?

Nah, that girl will just watch over them, unless things turn really bad.

That girl?

As soon as I thought that, a strange memory flickered in my mind. A blue light and a voice I didn’t recognize, calling out, “Mommy.”

I felt a sudden wave of nostalgia for a time that never was. Before I knew it, silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Hey, why the hell are you getting sentimental for?” Atsuka complained.

I laughed, dismissing the strange thought. “Too late for that. It’s Christmas, after all!” I said, as I filled my glass all the way.

The room was still quiet, but it didn’t feel as empty anymore.

“To our troublesome daughters,” I said.

Atsuka rolled her eyes, but she clinked her glass against mine anyway.

“To all the trouble they'll bring.”

 

---

 

The cold, whispering wind brushed past me. It slipped in through a slightly open window, filling the classroom with a faint, crisp chill. I let it wrap around me, its icy breath slowing my thoughts and pulling me into a quiet, drowsy calm.

My eyelids felt heavy. A clear sign that winter had arrived.

Or… well, I guess that wasn’t something exclusive to winter, so maybe it wasn’t the best way to tell. Either way, I honestly couldn’t remember a single thing the teacher said today.

The only reason I was still awake at all was that I had something—or actually, someone—very interesting to stare at instead.

Sakura’s desk was at the very front of the classroom, which suited a model student. Mine was all the way in the back, though that didn't mean anything since the seats were assigned randomly. Still, it did mean she was always within my line of sight.

Sakura’s desk was right at the front of the classroom, which made sense for someone like her. Mine was all the way in the back. Whatever.
Still, she was always in my line of sight.

She had changed quite a bit since getting her glasses. She was… I don't know. More expressive? More emotional? Or maybe she hadn’t changed at all, and I was just imagining it. To me at least, it felt like I could understand her better. I liked that.

She must have sensed my stare because our eyes met. Sakura froze in place with her head turned completely over her shoulder—which was a very awkward pose to take during class. I stopped the random scribbling in my notebook and gave her a small wave and smile. Clearly flustered, she looked away and turned back to her notes. It was hard to believe how difficult it used to be to make her blush.

She was so cute. Before the glasses, she was already at the top of the cuteness scale, but now, she'd broken through the roof entirely. When she wasn't wearing them, she looked like a cool beauty. I had the full package.

How could I get this childhood friend of mine to confess?

Well, first she would need to love me.

You see, my issue was not that if I told her I wanted to date her, she would say “no”. Nope, my problem was much worse than that. My problem was that she would say “yes”.

She would say “yes” no matter what.

Heck, when I asked her for a kiss, she was all-in on that idea.

No matter what I asked from her, she would probably agree, even if she didn't feel the same way I did. I didn't want that. Not if I wanted her to be happy as well.

In other words, I could ask her to date me, but I couldn't possibly ask her to love me.

And that takes us back to the main issue. Was there even something to love about me? I knew I was… let's say lacking in many departments.

Sigh…

And just like that, another school day came to an end. I only realized when I noticed Sakura had come to my desk.

“S-Shima… Are you free today?” she mumbled nervously, as if she was having trouble moving her mouth. Of course I was free. We did everything together. Actually, we were together so much that I probably couldn't say I was free to anybody else.

“I'm afraid I'm very busy.”

But I also really liked messing with her.

Sakura started to panic a little. She seemed to have something serious to say, so I dropped my charade quickly today.

“I'm always free for you. What about it?”

“I… We… We need to talk.”

She said the dreaded line. Was she going to break up with me?

That would be very bad—because we weren't dating.

“Sure. Would the courtyard work?” We had a decently isolated spot where we hung out occasionally; at the end of the day, no one would interrupt us there.

She nodded, and I followed her as she rigidly led the way.

“Should I be sitting down for this?” I asked, and she nodded back.

I waited anxiously for a couple of minutes until Sakura finally spoke up.

“I'm going to Tokyo for a bit. For family stuff.”

That was it? It seems I'd gotten worked up over nothing.

Still, her family, huh? The only family I knew of was her mother. Did she have grandparents? Maybe they were from Tokyo. I didn’t know much about her mother’s side since that woman didn’t talk much. The Adachi household was full of mysteries.

“For how long? What about school? And our part-time job?”

“Ten days. My mother already talked to both.”

I nodded. “And when do you leave?”

Should I offer to take notes for her? Not that my notes were ever all that useful.

“Um… today…”

“What? Like right now?” Tokyo was pretty far away. They had to leave immediately or they wouldn't make it. We had no time to be here chilling in the schoolyard. “Why didn't you tell me before?”

I grabbed her hand and ran to the bicycle rack, then sat her on the back. I began pedaling as fast as I could, my mind already conjuring the image of Ms. Adachi's scowl as she stood cross-armed in the front doorway, tapping her foot impatiently.

The streets blurred past us as I pushed on the pedals.

When we finally stopped in front of Sakura's house, her mother was indeed standing there. She had that familiar disapproving expression etched on her face, just as I had imagined.

“Huh. I thought you weren't going to show up,” she welcomed us in her usual cutting tone. Ms. Adachi then stepped forward and firmly grabbed Sakura's wrist, pulling her toward the house.

“What… do I do… with the bike?” I managed to ask between gasps of air.

“Keep it,” Sakura called back as she disappeared into the house. “Until I get back.”

Well, at least I didn't have to walk all the way to my place.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

I had to make a quick stop at the Chinese restaurant to let the owner know I'd be taking a few days off too. There wasn't much point in going if Sakura wasn't going to be there. By the time I got home, it was already getting dark.

Now, you'd think I'd be freaking out about being apart from her for so long… but actually, I wasn't. Because there's this one crucial detail: today was February 4th. Ten days from now would be Valentine's Day.

This was my chance. I'd never managed to give Sakura chocolates before because she always said she didn't need them. I also couldn't make them in secret because we hung out too much.

But now? She was going away, and that meant I had time to learn how to make some.

I'd actually never cooked with chocolate before, as I'd been focusing on making better lunches, and Sakura never cared much about sweets to begin with. Also, I couldn't simply walk up to my mom and ask her to teach me how to bake chocolates to give to a girl. That would be far too embarrassing. Though, to be fair, she probably would teach me if I did.

Sakura's timing was perfect. I could take my time practicing by myself after school until I managed to make something halfway decent.

And so, with the crisp bite of winter in the air and a heart full of quiet anticipation, began the ten longest days of my life.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

 

February 5th

 

Today, I spent the day browsing the internet for chocolate recipes. I never knew there were so many ways to make Valentine's chocolate. Some look impossibly difficult.

I keep imagining her face when I hand her the chocolates. Will she blush? Get flustered? Maybe push her glasses up nervously like she sometimes does? The thought alone keeps making me giggle.

I sent Sakura a message, but I got no response, which was very unusual for her. She must be very busy.

 

 

February 6th

I visited several different stores today after school looking for chocolate. Each one had so many options I almost had a meltdown. How is anyone supposed to choose? I picked a bunch of them randomly to try.

Still no texts back from Sakura. I sent another message asking how things were going. Maybe her phone died? Or her mother took it away?

 

 

February 7th

Today, I lined up all my different chocolate samples and methodically tasted each one. By sample twelve, I was positive I'd never want to eat chocolate again in my life. My sister helped herself to all the remaining chocolate.

Checked my phone about twenty times today. Would it be so hard for her to call me once? What could be so important in Tokyo that she couldn't spare a minute to send me a text?

 

 

February 8th

I had lunch with Hino and Nagafuji today. I tried to casually bring up Valentine's, hoping for some advice. However, neither of them seemed to care much for the holiday. Perhaps I was the only one overthinking this whole Valentine's ordeal.

Didn't bother fixing my hair this morning, Hino asked if I was feeling sick.

Four days without a word from Sakura. Did I do something wrong before she left? Maybe I was pushing too hard… Or maybe she's finally realized how boring I really am.

 

 

February 9th

The kitchen looks like a crime scene—flour everywhere, eggshells scattered across the counter, and a tray of my pathetic attempt at cupcakes. They rose too much, then collapsed in on themselves. Symbolic, honestly.

Mom had a worried expression as she helped me clean.

 

 

February 10th

Today is Sunday.

I woke up at four in the evening to realize my phone battery had died, but after plugging it in, there was nothing. The light from the screen made my head hurt.

My sister came to check on me at some point, but she got scared and ran away.

 

 

February 11th

I didn't go to school today. First time I've ever skipped. I used to enjoy our daily rides to school, but without Sakura's weight behind me, the bike just feels too heavy.

Thankfully everyone already assumed I was sick, and they didn't ask too many questions.

I spent the whole day thinking about her, but did she think about me at all? Had my name crossed her mind even once? Maybe she's relieved to finally take a break from me.

 

 

February 12th

Valentine's was getting closer, so I tried melting store-bought chocolates into heart shapes today while everyone was at home or at school. They looked decent but tasted worse than before I melted them. I just dropped them in the trash after a single bite.

Whatever. It's not like exchanging chocolates was something we needed to do.

When I finally checked my phone, there were no new messages from her.

 

 

February 13th

I missed her.

 

 

 

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

February 14th

“Sis! Are you awake?” I heard a voice through the door, but I ignored it. My room felt cold, and my body was numb. I didn't care anymore.

There was silence for a second.

Then—slam.

My door burst open with a deafening crash.

“Ugh,” Mom groaned dramatically, covering her nose in an exaggerated motion.

I sat up on my bed, pulling my blanket around me, still trying to process the situation.

My sister stepped in behind her. She was wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses while glancing around the room like a secret service agent or something.

Mom leaned over, and I felt her eyes scan me from head to toe.

“Strip her,” she commanded dispassionately.

Before I could properly process what was happening, my little sister pounced on the blanket and yanked it off in one swift move. Cold air hit my skin like a slap. I weakly struggled, but two sets of hands were already pulling at my clothes.

“Hey—! I can—! I can do it myself!”

“You had your chance,” Mom said flatly. “Hold her still.”

Defeated, I just let them do as they pleased. I didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

Before I knew it, Mom had scooped me up in her arms like a toddler.

“I can walk…” I mumbled.

“You. Had. Your. Chance.”

She carried me to the bathroom and unceremoniously dropped me into the bathtub, which was thankfully already full of warm water.

I splashed in like a rag doll, the warmth swallowing me whole.

“Take over,” Mom instructed my sister. She had silently followed us and was currently standing by the door with her arms crossed.

Moments after she left, I could hear the distant whine of the vacuum cleaner coming from upstairs.

I slumped lower in the tub, feeling exhausted.

“Lean forward,” my sister said in what she thought was a commanding voice. She'd already rolled up her sleeves and was pointing the showerhead at me.

“You're a mess, Sis.”

“Wait, that water's cold—!”

She sprayed my hair anyway. I winced and made a weak protest, but she was already locked in. I could see a rare, determined look behind her fogged-up glasses.

She scrubbed my hair with way more force than necessary, but I just let her work, way too tired to try to fight back.

When she finally finished washing my hair, she pointed toward the bathroom mirror. “Dry off and sit. I'll be back.”

“… Okay,” I muttered, dragging myself out of the tub and grabbing a towel. I still had no idea what was happening.

After a few minutes, she came back with a brand-new set of underwear and handed it to me. “Put these on,” she ordered.

Then she plugged in the hairdryer and started drying my hair, not caring that the hot air was hitting my face.

“Seriously,” I said finally, “what's going on?”

“I have to get you 'on your feet' if I want Sakura to become my real sister.”

This was for sure my mom's doing. She knew how much my sister loved Sakura.

I wanted to protest, but I truly didn't care at this point.

Once my hair was dry, my sister tugged me up by the arm and led me into her room, where a chair had been placed in the middle like I was about to get interrogated—or have a makeover. My mom was waiting beside it with her hands crossed.

“Sit,” she said.

I sat.

Mom looked at my sister with a conspiratorial nod. “Go bring it.”

My sister's face lit up, and she snapped into what she thought was a military salute. “Yes, ma'am!” she chirped before dashing out enthusiastically.

Meanwhile, Mom was already unscrewing a small glass bottle I hadn't noticed before.

“Treatment,” she explained, catching on to my questioning look. “It'll help make that straw on your head look like actual hair. I hope.”

Her fingers worked through my hair with practiced movements, massaging the oil into my scalp. Despite myself, I closed my eyes. It felt… nice, as if I was a little kid again.

She continued in silence for a while.

“Did she say she liked this color?” she asked in a soft tone. I didn't answer, but she took it as confirmation anyway. “You should look into proper dyes. I'll help.”

The door shot open again as my sister returned, carrying a white box in her arms.

“Got it!” she announced triumphantly.

My sister walked in front of me and opened the box, revealing a dress. It was pure white, like fresh snow, with delicate straps that led to a square neckline. The material looked soft and light, flowing down to what would be just above the knee. The back dipped low, designed to expose shoulder blades and a hint of spine.

I stared at it, uncomprehending. “What's that?”

“Your garment, my lady,” Mom said sarcastically. “Put it on.”

I blinked.

“Put. It. On.”

There seemed to be no arguing with her today.

I stood mechanically, arms lifting as my sister slipped the dress over my head with a jump. The fabric whispered against my skin as it fell into place, impossibly soft and light.

She then ducked down and placed something at my feet. White slippers with small decorative flowers that matched the dress perfectly.

“When did you…” I trailed off, looking down at myself. Everything was new. They'd gone shopping specifically for this. For me.

I couldn't help but feel a bit moved… except that this was a summer dress, and we were in the middle of winter.

This was basically a death sentence.

Mom immediately scoffed. “Drama queen,” she said, having apparently read my thoughts.

A beat later, she called out, “Leave us.”

My sister, standing quietly by the door, snapped another little salute like she was in some kind of spy movie and happily slipped out.

Mom didn't say anything. She just stood behind me, working a comb through my hair in smooth, practiced motions. The comb moved slowly, parting strands with gentle tugs, one section at a time. She was taking her time. Not because my hair was such a mess—though it absolutely was—but because she wanted to give me a chance to speak up.

She wanted me to continue the conversation from before. She wanted me to come out and say it. Either to confirm her suspicions or because she thought it would make me feel better.

I stared at the floor for a while.

Then, finally, I asked, “Are you really okay with this?”

“With what? This disaster you call hair? Not really. I still don't know what you did to it.” She knew what I meant. She just wanted me to spell it out.

“I mean…” I swallowed. “With me liking Sakura. With me liking another girl.”

That was the very first time I'd said it out loud.

Her brush paused for a moment. It wasn't long, but I was glad she was giving it some serious thought.

“Would it make any difference if I wasn't?”

Would it?

I wouldn't stop talking to Mom if she objected, and it wouldn't change how I felt about Sakura…

“No… I don't think it would.” I told her sincerely.

Her comb moved again, slowly, tracing through my hair.

She didn't speak for a long time.

“Do you want to know what I thought when I saw you blush for the first time?”

I didn't answer.

“Finally”—I kicked her ankle, but with these slippers it didn't do much. She just laughed.

The comb pulled gently at the ends of my hair.

“I don't know if I'd be okay with just anyone. But I think I'm fine with her.”

I just sat there in silence for a while after that. I couldn't say anything back to her right away as I didn't trust my voice not to crack.

“Thank you, Mom.”

She kept brushing my hair with great care.

“As long as you are happy, then that's all that matters to me.”

Done with my hair, she moved on to add a touch of makeup.

“Well… this is the best I could do. Not that I had much to work with.”

All I could give her was an awkward laugh.

"But still—if you got this bad after just a couple of days without her… how are you planning to survive if she accepts that scholarship and goes through with the school transfer?"

A transfer. So no "family stuff" then.

She moved to my side to straighten my dress.

“Now hurry,” she said, opening the door. “I told them you'd be waiting at the station.”

She pushed me forward, past my sister's door and all the way to the front entrance. When I stepped outside, she locked the door behind me.

I stared down the street. The sun will be setting soon.

They must have arrived by now, I thought. Sakura must be at the station already.

And I…

I…

Walked in the complete opposite direction.

Sakura had lied.

 

 

 

 

 

The unfamiliar streets stretched before me as I wandered into a part of town I'd never seen before. Makes sense, really. My world consisted only of the paths between our homes, school, and the station and nothing more.

Without my phone, getting lost meant real trouble. Yet my feet carried me forward through random streets, each step sending sharp pain through the thin soles of my sandals as the cracked pavement pressed against my feet, but something inside wouldn't let me stop. Maybe the discomfort helped distract from the ache in my chest. Maybe I just needed to disappear for a while. To find a place so distant that not even she, who knew everything there was to know about me, could find me.

I walked several more blocks without really seeing them, my eyes fixed downward, following whatever path seemed to lead furthest from the station. The constant gusts of wind cut through narrow roads and straight through my dress. Goosebumps rose across my skin as the thin fabric did very little to stop the chill.

February air had no business being this cold.

What was the point of wearing this thing again? I'm sure my mom and sister had the best intentions when they got it for me, but they were going to be very disappointed.

This wasn't her fault—it could never be. The weight of my mistakes pressed down heavier than my tired feet on the unforgiving pavement. I'd really messed up this time.

By the time the sunlight began to fade, I could see a small park ahead. I glanced over and saw it was full of couples. They were walking hand in hand, cuddled up on benches, being all perfect and happy together.

There was nothing for me there, so I kept walking. But as I turned away, I realized the couples weren't just walking aimlessly; they were all moving in the same direction, like they had somewhere to go.

A festival. That was rare this time of the year. I almost turned around right there. Honestly, I couldn't care less about some corporate money grab, but it was getting darker, and the light from the temple grounds looked better than wandering these unfamiliar streets.

Besides, if I was going to be alone from now on, maybe I should learn to enjoy things like this by myself.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Inside the festival grounds, the path was wide enough that I could walk straight down the middle, between the stalls that lined both sides. Vendors called out their wares with forced cheer, but their voices all just became part of a single monotonous tone from where I stood.

Paper lanterns hung from strings crisscrossing above the path, swaying lazily in the evening breeze. They were probably meant to be cheerful, festive even. But as I passed under them, I simply didn't feel anything. It was all so… dull. Even the supposedly vibrant reds and yellows in the decorations seemed washed out.

I didn't belong here. Couples flowed past me on both sides, their faces illuminated by the same lantern light that refused to add color to anything in my vision. Their chatter and laughter felt distant, as if I was watching some old silent film. The only thing that reminded me I was actually here were the small jolts of pain shooting through my sandals with every step on the sharp gravel.

The deeper I ventured into the festival grounds, the more elaborate the decorations became. And yet, despite all the lights and decorations, everything remained stubbornly colorless in my perception. The hearts, the lanterns, the smiles—all of it rendered in varying shades of the same non-color. Perhaps there was something wrong with my eyes.

I needed air.

Between two stalls, I noticed a dark path with no people on it. It seemed to lead upward, into the trees that covered the mountain behind the shrine.

The path was steep, and every step was a struggle against roots and loose dirt. I had to grab onto tree trunks just to keep from slipping.

At the top, there was a small clearing with an old wooden bench facing the festival grounds. I walked to the guardrail.

From this high up, I could see the entire festival below. It looked like a diorama someone had forgotten to finish painting.

And this was it. My free sample of the bleak future that awaited me.

Finally, away from everything I had ever known, I allowed myself to think about her.

Sakura.

I could more or less tell what was going on in her head. I had known her for a long, long time after all. One by one, all the pieces clicked into place.

Her impressive grades. The way the teachers kept calling for her. Her constant fights with her mother. A scholarship.

There were never any problems with her family. She must have been offered a chance to study in Tokyo, and she didn't want to tell me because she knew I would worry about it.

But of course I would worry.

Because she intended to refuse it.

 

Far below, the colorless festival continued, its dim lights unable to cast shadows this far up. None of it felt real. The cold wind pressed against me, pulling at the edges of my dress and stinging my cheeks, but I barely noticed.

Maybe I leaned too hard, clung too tightly, and made it impossible for her to walk away without feeling like she was abandoning me. And now she's given up something incredible… because of me. I messed up.

Feelings of loneliness washed over me like black waves in the night.

Sakura had lied because she was afraid of hurting me. And she would want to stay here, in this backwater town, for the very same reason.

But I couldn't take that from her. A chance to study in the city was simply too great an opportunity to pass up. It would give her so many more options. She could go to a university there, meet important people, find a good company to work for...

The worst part was that she wasn't wrong. I needed her.

One needn't look further back than the past week to notice just how overly attached I had grown. The one following the other like a shadow, the one clinging to the other like a lifeboat—it was me all along.

As long as I kept stubbornly holding on to her, she would never be able to go anywhere else. Even if she had already refused this one chance, Sakura was smart—surely she could get many more.

I just happened to have been picked by the teacher all those years ago. She didn't really need me.

But she was too kind, and we were too close. I needed to show her that I would be fine. That she could follow her dreams without worrying about me.

My vision blurred. I blinked hard, refusing to acknowledge the heat building behind my eyes.

Instead, my fingers gripped the railing tighter as the wind picked up.

The sounds of chattering drifted up from below—indistinct, as if all the couples were speaking a language I couldn't understand. That I would never understand.

My eyes hurt. Something inside me was threatening to break.

I'll need to give her more space… Get my own bike… Tell the restaurant to change our shifts… Try to find some other friends to hang out with…

So just this time, just today, I'll allow myself to cry.

The first tear fell before I could stop it. Then another. Then I couldn't count them anymore. For the first time in my life, I was sobbing.

Through my sobs, I heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind me. I froze, my breath catching, but I couldn't bring myself to turn around.

But then… I felt a light tug at my shirt.

I could not mistake it for anything else. I didn't even need to look to know who it was.

 

“How…” My voice cracked. “How did you even find me?”

I tried to wipe my eyes, turning away to hide my face. “Not even I know where I am…” That last part came out as half an awkward laugh. I was crying and laughing. Sad and happy at the same time. I was falling apart.

But Sakura caught my hand and gently turned me around to face her.

Her hair was a tangled mess, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. Her clothes were wrinkled and slightly damp with sweat. An enormous backpack was still strapped to her shoulders, pulling at the fabric. She looked like she'd sprinted through half the town.

“I… I had… help,” she managed between ragged breaths.

She opened her free hand, and a tiny speck of light floated above her palm. It glowed with an otherworldly blue light.

“What is that?”

The little speck rose to eye level, then suddenly circled us twice, as if confirming something. After giving us what felt like a nod, it flew off into the night sky.

I was dumbfounded, almost forgetting the whirlwind of emotions that had been raging inside me moments before.

Sakura, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm as she watched it disappear. “Thank you,” she whispered, with a smile that shone like the yellow sun of a warm summer morning.

“Sakura… about the scholarship…” I could feel her tighten her grip on my hand.

“So, you've heard.” She looked down, her cheeks a sad shade of purple.

“I think you should—”

Sakura interrupted me by gently pressing her index finger to my lips.

“I will not take it."

“But—” I tried to protest—I had so many reasons to give her—but she pressed a little firmer against my lips. Even in this situation, I could feel my cheeks turning red from her touch.

“I don't want to go to college. I have something else I want to do.”

She knelt on the ground to rummage through the bag she was carrying. It was filled to the brim with what looked like clothes. It took her a while, but she finally found what she was looking for.

“I'm sorry I couldn't write to you. My mother took my phone…” she said, her eyes darting away, the guilt in them a pale, restless green—like spring leaves trembling in the wind.

Still on her knees, she turned to me. “Here,” she said, handing me a book with both hands. She was looking down, but I could see her cheeks and ears had turned a pretty shade of pink.

It was a printed novel, like the ones you could find in any bookstore. But on the cover, it read...

Adachi and Shimamura

With a deafening sound, the whole world exploded with colors.

Red, blue, and yellow specks bloomed all around us. Purple, orange, and green lights showered the night in all directions.

Forget skipping a beat, my heart went into full stop.

The sound from the fireworks was loud, but it gave me the pause I needed to sort my feelings.

This was Sakura's novel—no, Sakura's message. The one she had been crafting for almost a year.

I finally understood.

Even if we hadn't met from the start, we would have ended up together.

I fell to my knees, and tears rolled down my cheeks once again. These ones were warm.

The ground shook with each new boom.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

In a moment of quiet, Sakura was the first to speak. We were both sitting on the ground, our backs against the lone bench, our hands intertwined.

“I want to be a novelist,” she said with absolute certainty.

“There are many more stories I want to write.” Her voice sounded sweet and tender. “One where you are an actress. One where I'm a teacher. One where we meet on our way to work. One where we meet at the end of the world.”

“And one where we are childhood friends.”

My heart was beating so loudly I couldn't tell if the fireworks had really ended.

“But I— you could do so much better than me.” I protested. “I'm lazy, clumsy, plain...”

Sakura just nodded as I listed my shortcomings, with a dumb smile on her face. “You are also an idiot.”

I gave her a chop on the head with her own novel.

“You are the kindest person I know, Shima. The fact that you don't even notice just proves it.”

“And even if you weren't, that wouldn't change a thing.” She continued. “Do I need to write you another whole book just to get that through?”

Was I really that dense? Okay, maybe I deserved that.

But I now understood what she wanted to say. I was very lucky to have met her when we were little kids, but only because we got to spend all these extra years together. If we had met ten, or twenty, or one thousand years later, she would have chosen me the instant our eyes met. And I would have chosen her.

Just like in her novel.

For us to take the next step, I had to be the one to confess.

Because she already had.

Not with words, but with her actions—with every word she wrote, every choice she made. She had been patiently waiting for my answer all these years.

 

I looked up, directly into her eyes, and told her everything that was in my heart.

“I love you.”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded, with a smile.

“I'm crazy about you.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes.

“Stay with me forever.”

Sakura looked at me. Her gaze filled with warmth and affection.

“… Okay.”

And she accepted all my feelings.

 

Like she always did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The warm, comforting wind brushed past me. It drifted in through the open windows, filling the classroom with a fresh, flowery scent. I let it embrace me, its gentle touch lulling me into a soft, drowsy haze.

My eyelids felt heavy. It was a clear sign that spring had arrived. A very clear one, yes.

Today was the start of our life as second year students, or at least, I think that's what our homeroom teacher was trying to say. I wasn't really paying attention.

My reason being, I had a very cute girlfriend to look at instead.

For some reason, the school hadn’t bothered to change our classes or seats when we moved up a year. It was as if time, in its infinite wisdom, had decided this particular arrangement was already perfect, and I kind of agreed.

However, since the same faces filled the same seats as last year, it didn't really feel like much had changed. We were one floor higher now, I suppose.

Not that I knew any of my classmates anyway. There was just the one I cared about.

Sakura's eyes met mine. I gave her a smile and a small wave. Even from my seat, I could see her face quickly turn as red as the ribbon in her uniform. Her glasses almost slipped from her face, and her mouth hung open so wide I briefly considered throwing a piece of my eraser to see if I could score a three-pointer. I couldn't help but laugh to myself, which just made her turn around and hide her face in her desk.

Her reaction hadn't actually changed that much.

I really was being dense back then. The way our eyes kept meeting in class, even before we started dating, should've been a dead giveaway. She also cared, didn't she?

Not that it mattered anymore. She had agreed to date me, and I wasn't planning on letting her go.

My only complaint was that even though we had been officially dating for two months now, we hadn't had any chances to do any couple-like things. Sakura had been grounded by her mother this whole time and she was forced to go straight home after school or our part-time job.

Ms. Adachi was furious. During the Tokyo entrance exams, Sakura answered every question with the letter A, even the non-multiple-choice questions, so of course her scores were awful. With that little act of revelry she had thoroughly buried all chances of ever getting another chance to study there.

I had given her a head pat anyway. She was my little rebel now.

Studying in Tokyo never really even crossed her mind. She spent the time her mother thought she was studying running around to get her novel printed and bound. All so she could gift it to me as an apology for not being able to contact me for so long. That copy was now my treasure.

Anyways, her grounding ended today, which meant we were finally free. And I had a brand new goal—or that's what I would like to say. My goal was one of the things that hadn't changed.

I wanted Sakura to say that she loved me.

When I confessed to her, she accepted my feelings, but she didn't really say it back. I knew she cared. I could see it in everything she did. But knowing and hearing it were two different things. I still didn't feel worthy, I suppose. Was it selfish of me to need the words? Maybe. But we humans are greedy like that.

As I was musing over that, my eyes naturally followed Sakura as she stood from her desk and walked toward me. That was my personal sign that lunchtime had arrived.

“It's Shima-Shima!” I heard Nagafuji call out as she approached. I didn’t even need to turn around to know Hino would be right behind her. “And the other girl is here too!”

“Her name is Ada Chi Chi! You know that!” Yup, there she was. I was pretty sure Nagafuji knew Sakura’s real name and was just keeping up this charade to mess with Hino, but I didn’t correct her. For some reason, it made me feel a sense of kinship with her.

The three of them naturally pulled their desks around mine to form a little square, while I didn’t even bother moving mine. At some point, they must’ve just decided I was too lazy to move. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Sakura took her usual spot to my left, while the others sat across from us. Hino was the first to speak.

“It doesn’t really feel like we’re second years at all,” she said, voicing what we were all thinking.

“Mm-hmm,” Nagafuji agreed. “Maybe we were all held back and just haven’t realized it yet?”

I started unpacking mine and Sakura’s lunches. Today, I’d put in a little extra effort to celebrate Sakura’s release from captivity.

“You might not realize something like that, but the rest of us definitely would,” Hino rebuked Nagafuji. As they bantered, I picked up an egg roll from my lunch and held it out to Sakura. She was busy watching Hino and Nagafuji’s skit, so she just obediently took a bite, chewing slowly and carefully.

Sakura had gotten a lot more open with her emotions around me, but when it came to food, she still didn’t show much. Honestly, that wasn’t just about food, but it was the one thing I’d learned to read her on.

Take this egg roll, for example. It’s got salt, pepper, and a touch of Parmesan. She always takes her time with these, more so than when I make them sweet, no matter how much I tweak the recipe.

Or this rice. I scooped some up and brought it to her lips. She gave me a confused glance but ate it anyway. I’d once mixed tea leaves into the water as one of my mom's challenges and haven't been able to find a recipe that tops it.

“…Earth to Shima!” Hino snapped her fingers in front of my face. Only then did I realize everyone was looking at me.

“Uh, yes?” I said, scrambling to catch up. I quickly took a bite of rice to look busy.

“I was asking if you ended up getting anything for White Day. You seemed really into Valentine’s.”

And I choked.

Sakura calmly picked up her water bottle and tried to help me drink, but that just made me cough harder. I took the bottle from her and managed a few sips on my own.

“We didn’t end up exchanging chocolates, but we went to a festival instead,” Sakura said, smoothly covering for me while I recovered.

Wait, was she about to tell them we were dating? That made me panic in a whole new way. I hadn't even told them I wanted to make chocolates for Sakura.

“Huh, a festival? In February? I didn’t know there was such a thing. Did you wear yukatas or something?” Hino asked.

“Just normal clothes. Though someone was wearing a very breezy dress,” Sakura added, teasing.

And I choked again.

“When was the last time we went to a festival?” Hino asked Nagafuji.

“I think we were ten,” Nagafuji replied thoughtfully. “My mom had to find us yukatas because you didn’t want to wear yours, remember?"

Hino and Nagafuji drifted into their own conversation while Sakura gently patted my back.

It seemed like their relationship hadn’t changed much over the years.

“Hey, Shima..."

“Huh?” I started to turn, but Sakura was suddenly very close to my ear. I froze, afraid I’d bump into her face. That would be bad. Very bad.

“D-do you want to go somewhere tomorrow?” she whispered.

Oh. She was asking me out. I wanted to tease her, but honestly, I’d been hoping she’d ask. And her taking the lead was new; I'll write that one down as one of the things that had changed.

I just nodded.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Just like our last date, I arrived at our meeting spot a full hour early, though I hadn't brought a fancy bouquet this time.

The weekend crowd at the station moved like a restless tide, but Sakura's familiar calm was nowhere to be found. That was… weird. She was always early. Always.

I found a bench and sat down, checking my phone to see if there was any new message from her. Maybe she was running late for once?

But just as I was settling in to wait, I heard familiar footsteps behind me.

“Sorry for the wait.” I turned to see Sakura approaching with a single red rose in her hand, looking completely composed.

I scoffed, standing up to face her. “Oh, please. You were totally watching me from somewhere, weren't you?”

Sakura's cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink, which was basically a full admission of guilt coming from her.

“D-don't worry about it,” she said, trying to keep a smooth voice. Her hand trembled as she held out a single rose.

I found myself trying to hold my grin as I reached for it, making sure my own hand was not trembling…

But our fingers touched, and that was it.

Sakura let out a tiny gasp like she'd been hit by lightning. Her expression cracked, her mouth did a little panicked twitch, and then she dropped into a flustered crouch, knees tucked together, arms flung over her head as if bracing herself.

I had wanted to keep my cool, but without thinking, I spun around, facing the opposite direction and pressing my cold palms to my burning cheeks. My face was on fire.

We stood like that for a full ten seconds—well, I stood, she was crouching—before we both took a shaky breath in unison.

Finally, Sakura stood up and smoothed down her clothes. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to fix it a bit. Without a word, we both agreed to pretend nothing had happened.

Today, Sakura looked like she'd stepped out of some high-end business magazine. She wore elegant black slacks that fit her well, paired with a crisp black shirt that made her look sophisticated and mature. Her glasses caught the morning light, giving her the presence of a high executive in some fancy company. It made me proud to call her my girlfriend.

Meanwhile, I'd gone for something softer—a light-brown skirt that swayed when I walked and a white button-up blouse that I'd had to iron while half asleep. The small purse that slung over my shoulder was a Christmas gift from my little sister, though I was pretty sure Mom had actually paid for it.

Still, it made me feel put-together in a way that complemented Sakura's more serious look. It did feel like she was taking me out on a date.

“So,” I said as we walked toward the train platform, “where exactly are we going? You were being pretty mysterious about it."

“Ehm… The aquarium in Nagoya,” Sakura replied, adjusting her glasses. “I thought… we should go somewhere we've never been before.”

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

The train ride to the aquarium was longer than our usual trips to the mall, which gave me time to propose something I'd been thinking about all week.

“Hey, Sakura,” I said, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt. “There's something I want to try today.”

She looked at me curiously, tilting her head.

“What if… just for today we called each other something different?”

“Different how?”

I first thought about using new nicknames. Like 'Saku' or 'Kura,' but those sound kind of… boyish? But then I remembered something.

I turned in my seat to fully face her. “In your novel, your characters use their last names with each other. That would feel fresh and different for us, right?”

Sakura blinked, clearly not expecting that suggestion.

“So today,” I continued, feeling my cheeks warm a bit, “you can call me Shimamura, and I'll call you Adachi. What do you think?”

“That's…” Sakura paused, looking thoughtful. She let out a deep, nervous breath. “Okay, Shimamura.”

The way she said my last name sent a weird thrill through me. “Thank you, Adachi.”

We both immediately started giggling at how formal it sounded.

“This is going to take some getting used to, Shima—mura,” Sakura said, catching herself.

“Actually,” I said after we'd stopped laughing, “why did you use our last names in your novel instead of our first names? I always wondered about that."

Sakura's cheeks turned pink again. “I wanted the characters to be different from us. And also…”

She looked down at her hands. “I got flustered writing 'Shima' over and over again.” Sakura looked away with a very cute expression.

Her soft smile warmed my heart.

She really had gotten a lot better at smiling. That was one change I approved of.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

The aquarium had a surprisingly long line when we arrived, snaking around the building's entrance. It made sense, seeing how today was a weekend.

We stood in line for a couple of minutes, but I quickly felt my patience wearing thin.

“Adachi, entertain me.” I complained, leaning against Sakura's shoulder dramatically.

“Entertain you…?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Come up with something fun to pass the time.” Sakura considered this seriously for a moment.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Sakura offered. Not bad, let's just up the stakes.

“Fine,” I said, straightening up with mock seriousness. “But the loser gets a forehead flick.”

She blinked. “A flick? I don't know if I can—”

“It will be fine. Adachi.” I gave her a small wink.

Time to use my childhood friend privilege: knowing Sakura will try to lose this round to avoid flicking me, she'll throw scissors, which means rock is my guaranteed win.

We played the first round—and, of course, I lost.

“Who opens with paper…” I complained.

"S-sorry..."

Oh well. I moved my hair out of the way and lowered my head so she could reach it.

Sakura lifted her hand slowly, hesitantly. As her fingers hovered over my forehead, she paused. Her hand trembled. It looked as if she was having a moral crisis.

tap.

If it hadn’t been for the faintest pressure on my skin, I wouldn’t have known she made contact at all.

That was it? I gave her a pout.

We went again. This time, I just picked rock again and won.

I raised my hand, grinning, and placed it directly above her forehead. But then I paused. Sakura had drawn her shoulders up defensively, like she was trying to disappear into them. Her eyes were shut tight, lashes trembling slightly, and her hands were clenched into nervous little fists at her sides. She was cute.

Suddenly, it didn't feel so funny anymore. All I wanted to do was hug her instead of flick her forehead. This was not as easy as it seemed.

Hesitating, I looked around.

The couple behind us were watching with fond smiles, their arms linked. A pair of little kids in the next row were pointing at us, begging their parents to let them play too. I froze, my hand still poised menacingly above Sakura's forehead.

Sakura peeked one eye open… and saw the audience too.

Our eyes met. Then we both looked at the scene we’d made—two girls locked in a forehead-flick standoff.

We both burst out laughing.

I secretly wished that these times when we could be silly together wouldn't change.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Before we knew it, we were at the front of the line. I reached for my purse to pay my entrance fees, but Sakura smoothly stepped in front of me, already pulling out her wallet.

“I've got this,” she said to the cashier.

“Sakura… I can pay for myself.” I protested. I didn't want to be a good-for-nothing girlfriend.

“I don't know any Sakuras,” she corrected me with a teasing smirk. “You paid last time, Shimamura. Today is my turn. Just let me. You can pay next time.”

I had wanted to argue but then remembered how Sakura preferred showing how she cared with her actions. That was something that should never change.

The casual promise of a next time stayed with me.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

The aquarium wasn't anything like I'd imagined. Instead of narrow hallways lined with tanks or those cool underwater tunnels you see in movies, it was one massive open space covered in artificial grass.

Families and couples were scattered across the floor, sitting and lying on the soft surface while gazing up at enormous wall-to-wall tanks where large fish would occasionally glide past like living artwork. Little kids kept running up to the glass walls, pressing their faces against them and tapping to get the fish's attention, despite the numerous “Please Don't Tap the Glass” signs posted everywhere.

The lighting in the room had a dim blue tint, creating an underwater atmosphere that made everything feel dreamlike.

Sakura and I found a quiet spot on the fake grass where we could sit. I watched as she skillfully pulled out a deep blue blanket that matched suspiciously well with the mood of the room. We sat side by side.

“Look,” Sakura said, pointing to a large ray gliding past the glass. “That's a manta ray. They can live up to fifty years.”

As she gestured upward, I noticed her other hand quietly inching across the blanket toward mine. I shifted slightly so she could find it.

“Really? That's interesting.”

“And that one over there,” she continued, indicating a colorful fish moving around the bottom of the tank, “is a parrot fish.”

I knew for a fact that Sakura couldn't care less about fish. She'd probably spent hours researching random fish facts just for today. Just to have something to talk about while we sat here together.

“Beautiful.” I said, looking straight at her while ignoring the fish. She was too focused to notice.

I stared at her for a moment. Then, on a whim, I leaned against her shoulder and linked my arm in hers. I couldn't hold a silly laugh from slipping out.

In that moment, the entire ocean floor seemed to shine.

She flinched, her whole body going rigid, but she held her ground. A blush immediately bloomed across her face, a deep scarlet that started at her cheeks and raced all the way to the tips of her ears. It was a fascinating sight, like watching the timelapse of an underwater flower opening.

“You're being a little… clingy today, Shima-mura.” She said, her voice but a nervous whisper.

Clingy.

Yes, that was an appropriate description. I was afraid. Afraid that things would change too much.

The part of me that usually just wanted to avoid trouble was now in full crisis management mode. Maybe this was what it felt like to cling to a future you actually wanted to be a part of.

“Well, we are on a date, aren't we?” I said, dismissively, as I rested my weight against the slightly taller frame of my girlfriend, entrusting my everything to her.

In that surreal picnic at the bottom of the ocean, I found myself praying that these times filled with hope and anxiety wouldn't change.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

After we'd had our fill of watching fish, we made our way to the aquarium's food court. The space was bustling with families and couples, all chattering excitedly.

“Wait here, Shimamura,” Sakura said, gesturing to an empty table near the center of the room. “I'll get us something to eat.”

I settled into a chair and placed the new addition to our outing on the table. It was a small, fluffy otter plushie with big, dumb plastic eyes that Sakura had won for me from a crane game we'd passed.

It sat there staring blankly ahead, and following its vacant gaze, I found myself looking at a large television mounted on the wall. The screen displayed what looked like a video slideshow of different fish, with random fish facts appearing alongside each slide.

Looks like my hour of fish trivia isn't over yet.

Lost in the fish imagery, my mind started to wander.

Dating Sakura wasn't at all what I'd imagined it would be like. I’d always thought of our relationship as a container, perfectly shaped and filled to the brim. The idea of dating felt like trying to pour all of that into a new, unlabeled bottle. Would it fit? Would it spill? Or would it just be the same water in a different glass? A part of me had been scared we'd lose something important in the transfer.

Instead, it didn't feel all that different. Just… rearranged. For years, I’d been so sure I had the complete map of Adachi Sakura. Every path, every landmark, every quiet little clearing where she kept her thoughts. I'd thought we were as close as two people could get without merging into some single, strange creature.

But today, she kept revealing new territory. A sudden confidence that wasn't on the map. A path of researched fish facts she'd paved just for me. The way which she'd taken charge of everything… It was like finding out my favorite, most familiar novel had secret extra chapters I'd never even known existed.

“Sorry for the wait,” Sakura said, returning with a tray of food. She took the seat beside me. As she sat down, she shook her head with a bemused expression. “That cashier was… interesting. She looked like one of those virtual YouTubers, with the bright blue hair and everything.”

Huh, that sounded familiar.

“Anyways, at least it was easy asking her for a favor,” Sakura added casually, unwrapping her sandwich.

“What favor?” I said, my mouth full.

“Don't worry about it,” she replied with her evasive line that was quickly becoming her catchphrase.

I studied her face, noting how she was avoiding eye contact.

“You are being very… assertive today, aren't you, Sakura?” I tried returning her teasing from earlier back to her.

“Adachi,” she corrected me.

I groaned. “This last name thing is kind of unfair, you know. 'Shima' is already based on my last name anyway.”

“I mean, you are the one who proposed it…” She was right. “Want me to call you H-Hougetsu instead?” She stumbled over my first name, her cheeks turning pink.

“Maybe next time.” I gave her a smile. I was going to cling for dear life to that promise of a next time.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Adachi, why are you being so proactive today?"

Sakura fidgeted with her discarded wrapper. “I thought… I thought you needed it. You seemed unsure about us being… t-together.”

Oh, I could sense my chance. If I push a bit, I should be able to have her say it.

“Unsure how?” I said with an unintentional smirk.

“Being… you know… my…” Her tone was barely audible and she was shrinking in her seat, but I motioned her to continue.

"G-girlfriend."

Girlfriend. What a strange word. It seems it has the strange power to make the person who says it blush on command. And also the person who listens to it.

She continued.

“You kept asking me if we were really dating, remember?”

“That was your own fault, you know.” I pouted at her. It was. She was the one who answered my confession with just an okay.

“Sigh, I know…” Sakura hung her head, but I noticed her stealing glances at a clock in the wall.

“I'm not good with words..."

I knew. She grew up in a… let's say a very detached family. She has probably never even considered loving someone else. I could at least say I loved my sister and parents, even if I only very rarely told them.

“Doing things like this,” she gestured around us, “is my way of making it up to you, I guess."

Watching her struggle made me understand something important about Sakura. She could talk to people. She did it in class with our friends, with customers at our part-time job, and even fought with teachers.

But just with me, she stumbles over her words and breaks down at the simplest things. The reason she could be so smooth with everyone else was probably because she didn't care about them the way she cared about me. Her awkwardness was proof of how much I meant to her.

Sakura was someone who showed her feelings through actions rather than words. And today had been full of actions that said everything she couldn't bring herself to say out loud.

“It's time.” Sakura interrupted my thoughts by tapping my shoulder and pointed towards the TV.

Just then, the television screen changed, displaying a simple message in bold white letters over a blue background: “Thank you.”

Thank you. Such a beautiful phrase when you really thought about it. It meant, I've been watching you, and your efforts have made my life a little better.

Sakura pulled my hand across from the table.

“Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for understanding this is how I show my..."

“… My l-love…”

I could feel every fiber of my body start to burn. My mind was starting to short again. But I couldn't let myself blank out—I needed to give her one last push.

“That, my dear Adachi…” I tried forcing an evil grin on my face. It wasn't hard, seeing how I was already smiling.

“…does not count.”

“Tsk.” And she understood.

Sakura took a long, deep breath.

"I..."

“I love you, Shima."

In a single breath, she finally said it. I could feel the happy tears threatening to spill, so I hurried to give her my answer before I couldn't anymore.

“I love you too, Sakura."

 

It was then that I knew for sure.

That my love for her was the one thing that would never change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was something surreal about talking to someone through a mirror. It was almost as if I was looking at a parallel universe, one where I had somehow earned the trust of the pale, serious girl with the steadily shrinking hair next to me. Maybe they were also dating.

Sakura was sitting to my left. Her glasses rested on the counter in front of the mirror next to the single red rose she'd given me earlier. She'd been diligent about bringing me one whenever we met lately.

Just looking at it brought a smile to my face. Sakura's hairdresser gave me a knowing smile, while mine shot her a scolding look.

I decided to break the silence before they could see me blush.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” I teased. She had actually never shown any nervousness about cutting her hair short, but I had been teasing her so much I was sure she was starting to feel it. “There's no coming back, you know?” Another dark strand fell to the floor as I finished saying that.

“I'm afraid it's too late for that,” she said to the mirror, which meant she was talking to me, but also to herself and the two women behind us.

Her stylist gave her a polite chuckle. Mine just pretended not to care.

On my side of the mirror, I noticed a few strands of light-brown hair slide to my shoulders. My stylist was carefully applying the new color over my already-bleached hair, the cool dye making my scalp tingle slightly. The foils wrapped around sections of my hair made me wonder if I could receive signals from outer space.

“At least your new hair's going to be great for the summer heat,” I told Sakura. Today was the first day of our summer break, so I was actually a bit jealous she was getting it cut short.

She hummed. “And you'll finally stop getting mistaken for a delinquent.”

I had finally given in to my mom's teasing and decided to dye my own hair when she offered to pay for both our sessions.

“I'll miss the attention,” I replied dryly with a shrug. Yeah, I figured it was time.

I stole another peek at the Sakura in the mirror. She was flinching slightly every time the scissors snipped near her ears.

After another moment of silence, Sakura was the one to break the silence,

“October,” she said out of nowhere. “The school trip…”

“Oh, right. That’s a thing.”

The school trip was kind of the main feature of second year in our school. The plan was for an overnight stay in Kyoto, which was not too far away, yet neither of us had ever been there.

“It'll be our first official trip together—well, with the class, I mean.” Her voice dropped on that last part.

Something about the way she said 'with the class' hinted at a scheme brewing in her mind, which actually just meant she was disappointed. Huh, who would have thought my skill in reading Sakura's emotions had gotten to the point that I could do it across parallel universes?

“You don’t sound too excited,” I noted.

Sakura tried to turn her head away, but the hair dresser turned her back to look straight at the mirror. Convenient.

“Kind of. I just… wanted our first trip to be… different…”

“Different how?”

“You know…” she said. “Just us. Where we could be, um, alone…”

“… Are you trying to get me into a love hotel?” I teased.

The stylist behind her choked on a laugh. Mine just rolled her eyes. Sakura glared at me. “No! I meant—like—like a hot spring...”

“Oh, yeah, because that would be so different…”

“Don’t be like that,” she said, and in the mirror I saw her pout. Which meant she was serious.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with her. I did. But I wasn't sure if I was ready for a hot spring. You know, because of the whole being naked with my girlfriend thing.

“Why bring up the trip now?” I threw her a lifeline while looking at my own reflection. I wasn't actually completely opposed to the idea of the two of us taking a trip together. We had gone with my parents to visit my family last year, but that didn't really count as a real trip for us. We didn't plan or pay for it—we were just along for the ride. That, and we weren't alone.

Also, this is going to sound a bit indecent, but I kind of wanted to sleep with her.

No, not in that way. I just meant that we used to sleep in the same bed almost every night back in middle school. I kind of missed that. Last year we only did it a couple of times, and this year not at all. But it made sense, I guess, given how our relationship had changed.

“There's a book fair next weekend,” she said, a little too casually. She had come prepared. I couldn't easily refuse her if she brought up her dream, and she knew it.

What a devious girlfriend I had.

I gave her a look.

“We could go in the morning, see the booths, maybe grab lunch… and—” she added quickly, but her stylist interrupted her. She was holding a mirror to the back of her head, asking what Sakura thought.

“It looks good.” I answered as if I had the final say on it. The stylist gave me a nod and took the mirror away.

“But…” She said in a trembling voice. She was afraid she'd miss her chance to pitch the trip idea.

“Fine,” I said. “We'll have a little trip with just the two of us.”

Sakura just froze on the spot. I caught her stylist's eye in the mirror and this time, I nodded to her. She understood and dragged Sakura away to the washing station with a sheepish smile. My own stylist gave me a frustrated sigh and held my head in place using a bit too much force.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

When my hair was finally done, we left the mall. Outside, the sunlight was waiting like a spotlight.

Sakura stepped out first, her hair now trimmed into a soft bob that curled slightly under her chin. She touched it self-consciously.

“Is it weird?” she asked.

“No,” I said, quickly. “It’s… cute.” And it was. If she had broken the cuteness scale back when she got her glasses, she was now taking it to new, undiscovered heights.

She smiled.

“And you,” she said, turning toward me, “I-I liked you before… but I think I like you more now.”

I felt a familiar blush in my cheeks. My hair was now light brown. It had only darkened by a couple of shades, but it would probably grow darker as my hair regained its natural color.

“We are still talking about my hair right?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said, as she avoided meeting my gaze.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Just a few days later, we found ourselves on our way to Kyoto.

The gentle rocking of the bus lulled me into a drowsy state as we cruised down the highway. Morning sunlight filtered through the windows, warming the interior. I stifled a yawn and glanced at Sakura beside me, who had claimed the window seat.

We'd managed to snag the spacious back row all to ourselves—a small victory that made the prospect of a three-hour journey more bearable. The bus wasn't crowded, but having this little bubble of privacy felt like a luxury.

Two nights and three days in Kyoto. Our first real trip together. Just thinking about it made my stomach flutter in a way that was both exciting and terrifying. I'd never thought of myself as the adventurous type, but somehow here I was, on a bus at six in the morning with my girlfriend, about to spend three days in a city I'd never seen before.

Girlfriend. The word still felt weird, even after dating her for half a year.

The decision to take the bus instead of the Shinkansen had been practical. Sakura had initially wanted the bullet train because that's what we were taking on our school trip—she didn't want any of her first experiences to be with anyone else but me. I found that endearing, but also kind of a pain. I managed to bribe her into taking the bus by offering to stay on extra night using the money we would save.

Still, I wasn't fully sold on the idea of going to Kyoto twice in a single year. There were plenty of other places we could have chosen instead. But her argument for the book fair was actually a very convincing one. If it meant supporting Sakura's dreams, I was perfectly fine with it. More than fine, actually.

The monotony of the highway was starting to get to me. A drowsy haze was settling over my mind with each passing minute.

I leaned against Sakura's shoulder, feeling her stiffen slightly before relaxing.

“Adachi, entertain me,” I demanded playfully.

She sighed. “Wasn't the last-name thing just for that one day at the aquarium?”

“It's fun. Let's make it our public transport thing.” I replied with a small smile. In truth, I just liked that particular phrase and wanted more chances to use it.

“Fine,” she conceded, but then surprised me. “But I chose the game last time, so it's your turn.”

This was new. Usually, Sakura would just agree and suggest something simple like thumb wrestling or some word game. Her refusing me like this showed how much she'd grown in confidence lately. I liked this Sakura.

My primary goal, if I'm being honest, was to find a comfortable way to sleep for the next few hours. The early morning start was catching up to me fast. A brilliant idea formed in my drowsy mind.

“Let's play the Stillness Game,” I proposed, making up the name on the spot.

“The what?” Sakura tilted her head.

“The rules are simple—we both get into comfortable positions, and the first person to move or make a sound loses.”

Before she could fully process this or agree to the terms, I made my move.

“Okay, I'm getting comfortable now,” I announced, and promptly laid my head in her lap, stretching my legs across the empty seats beside us.

“W-what are you—” Sakura began, her voice rising in pitch.

“Ah-ah-ah,” I interrupted with a smug smile, my voice already drowsy. “You just made a sound. But I'll give you a pass since the game hadn't officially started yet…”

I adjusted myself slightly, finding the perfect position.

Sakura's entire body went rigid. Even without looking up, I could feel the heat radiating from her face. Her hands hovered uncertainly in the air, as if she didn't know what to do with them. If she moved or spoke now, she'd lose the game.

I closed my eyes, feeling quite pleased with myself. “Starting now,” I murmured.

The gentle hum of the bus engine, the occasional bump in the road, and Sakura's barely controlled breathing created a perfect lullaby. Sleep came quickly, wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

Just before drifting off completely, I felt the lightest touch on my hair—Sakura's fingers, carefully running through the recently colored strands. The gesture was so gentle, so full of affection, that it made my heart squeeze in my chest.

I had won the game, it seemed.

In more ways than one.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

The door to our room slid open with a soft whisper, revealing a neat tatami room bathed in golden afternoon light. Outside the window, the sound of cicadas drifted in lazily. I stepped inside first, my socks quiet against the woven straw mats and turned around to see Sakura following behind me, her eyes wide as she took in the room.

“It's so… quiet,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded. “That's Kyoto for you.”

We set our bags down near the low table. I stretched my arms high above my head, breathing in the faint scent of wood and old paper.

The room was mostly traditional. I could see decorations with painted landscapes, a small alcove with a simple flower arrangement, and bamboo blinds filtering the sunlight. But by the wall, looking completely out of place, was a Western-style single bed with crisp white sheets and a seemingly new flat-screen TV.

I had personally requested that single bed, though I would never admit it to Sakura. It did look a lot smaller than I had expected, though. In my head, I'd pictured the same warm, calm feeling we used to have when we shared a bed back in middle school. But looking at it now, my stomach twisted with nervous anxiety.

Deciding to deal with the bed situation later, I busied myself with unpacking and dropped down beside my luggage. As soon as I opened it, a disorganized avalanche of clothes and a tangled phone charger tumbled out.

Meanwhile, next to me Sakura opened her own bag, revealing perfectly folded shirts tucked into neat stacks. Even her makeup bag was perfectly organized. Sakura worked calmly and methodically, then carefully cleaned the table and placed a large box on it.

I shoved some stray clothes back into my bag and gave a theatrical sigh. “You pack like you're on a business trip.”

She glanced up with a forced smile. “And you pack like you're running away from home.”

That got a laugh out of me.

We continued in silence for a bit, the good kind. I got up and walked to the window, pushing it open slightly to let in more of the breeze. When I turned around again, I noticed Sakura had unpacked the box on the table. A closed laptop sat in front of her.

“Is that…?”

She turned toward me, and I saw a complicated expression on her face.

“She bought it for me,” she said, but she didn't sound entirely sure of her own words. Her face was a complex mix of emotions. I could see both the quiet gratitude for a rare gift and the heavy weight of expectation that came with it. It looked like happiness and fear all rolled into one. This was her mother's clumsy way of supporting her dreams.

I stepped closer. It was brand new, still smelling faintly of metal and plastic. She ran her fingers across the logo on the back like she couldn't believe it was real.

“Is she still mad?” I said, while stroking her shoulders. Mad at Sakura for not taking her tests seriously—and mad at me for encouraging her.

Sakura sat back, taking a deep breath. “I'm not sure if she is.”

We both paused, and then—right on cue—we said it at the same time:

“She's difficult.”

A second passed. Then we burst out laughing, collapsing side by side against the tatami floor.

I lay there for a while, watching the ceiling and listening to the cicadas outside, feeling the warmth of her presence next to me, and wondering how we'd both fit on that bed tonight.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Outside the inn, the sky was painted in gradients of deep blue and fading peach, the lanterns slowly flickering to life as the streets shifted into evening.

Sakura and I wandered without a specific direction, our arms linked naturally as we strolled down the narrow stone paths. Back home, I might have been too self-conscious about the obvious intimacy of clinging to her like this, but this far from home, surrounded by strangers who would never see us again, it felt liberating. Nobody knew us. Nobody cared.

We found a small stall selling takoyaki, the vendor's cheerful calls mixing with the evening chatter. The octopus balls were decent, though a bit too salty for my taste. “I could probably make these better,” I murmured to Sakura between bites. I meant it as a joke but ended up earning a sincere nod from Sakura. Huh.

I felt… at peace. It wasn't about the food, or the temples glowing in warm gold behind wooden gates. Not really. It was the quietness between us that made me feel so… complete.

Later, we passed a rental shop advertising yukata experiences. She stopped and stared at the colorful fabrics displayed in the window with such longing that I found myself pulling her inside before I could think twice. Twenty minutes later, we emerged in matching summer outfits. Hers was a deep navy blue with white flowers, mine a soft pink with golden cranes.

And in that moment, with Kyoto wrapping around us like a painting, I realized something. I didn't want this to be a one-off. I wanted it to be… ordinary.

 

◆◇◆◇◆

 

Back in our room after our walk, Sakura emerged from the small bathroom wearing the inn's provided yukata. Her hair was still slightly damp from the quick bath we'd both taken to wash off the day's exploration.

“I'm ready for the hot spring,” she announced, adjusting the obi around her waist.

I was already sprawled across the bed in my own yukata, staring at the ceiling and pretending I was about to fall asleep. “Mhmm. Have fun.”

“You're not coming?” she asked, and I could hear the pout in her voice.

“Nope.” I turned on my side, facing away from her. “You just want to see me naked, don't you?”

There was a pause. Then, in a voice so quiet I almost missed it, “I mean… that's part of it.”

My heart skipped like three beats. Up until now, I hadn't really thought much about… that aspect of our relationship. The physical side of things. I had wanted to kiss her, and I still did. And I definitely wasn't beyond hugging or holding hands. But I feel that the intimacy I sought in those things and the one Sakura wanted to reach were two different things.

“You're terrible,” I mumbled into the pillow, hiding my face.

I could've just admitted I was embarrassed, but no—I had to make it complicated. Maybe that's just what embarrassment does to you. You want something pure and beautiful, but you can never just go for it straight up.

I saw the genuine disappointment flicker in her eyes before she could hide it. The sincerity in her pure honesty made something in my chest tighten. My own teasing felt cheap in comparison.

Out of all the people in this world, she had chosen me. With her looks, she could have easily chosen anyone, but the one she wanted to be with was me. The one she wanted to look at… was me.

I rolled over to face her fully, letting out a small breath. “Hey… Sakura,” I started. “Can… could you please give me a little more time? For… stuff like that.”

Her expression immediately softened, the disappointment replaced by a warm understanding.

“You could still go by yourself,” I offered.

But she immediately refused. “There wouldn't be any point.”

I reached over and tugged lightly at the edge of her sleeve. “Then… skip the bath.”

“Huh?”

I scooted back under the covers and patted the space beside me.

For some reason she quickly began blushing wildly. Had it really been that long since we slept in the same bed?

It took her a few seconds to process it, but then she crawled over, fumbling a little as she slipped under the covers. Almost as if she was afraid I'd change my mind if she didn't hurry. The mattress dipped lightly with her weight.

I abandoned my pillow and stole half of hers instead. I thought about grabbing her hand, but she was too busy nervously fidgeting, so I just let her be. I really was falling asleep now.

“This is nice…” I murmured as sleep quickly overtook me. “Maybe someday, we could do this every day…” The words slipped out before I could stop them, my drowsy mind betraying thoughts I wasn't quite ready to voice.

It seemed there came a moment when life grew so sweet, so quietly perfect, that I could no longer tell where the dream ended and where my waking days began.

The last thing I heard before sleep took me was a heartbeat that wasn't mine, beating even faster than before.