One Week Later
Kaito sat in his room, the curtains drawn shut, casting the space in dim gray. The desk lamp flickered like a dying heartbeat. His bed was a mess of tangled sheets and untouched textbooks. Outside, the wind tapped lightly on the window, as if asking him to come out—but he didn't move.
It had been a week since Sayuri's death, but the pain hadn't dulled. It had simply gone deeper, like a splinter buried beneath the skin.
His parents tried to speak to him, but he responded with silence. Food lost its meaning. Sleep came in fits. All he could do was relive the rooftop—her scream, the way her voice cracked when she said she loved him, the moment she fell.
He should have been faster.
He should have known.
He should have loved her back—loudly.
[Koji: Man... It's Sayuri's funeral today. You should come.]
The message sat on his screen, glowing like a dare. Kaito stared at it until the light blurred in his eyes. His hand trembled as he put the phone down.
And then… he stood.
Not because he wanted to.
But because he had to.
---
Downstairs
His mother sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped tightly around a chipped tea mug. The house was silent, except for the distant tick of the wall clock.
"I'm going to Sayuri's funeral," he said.
His mother turned slowly, her eyes soft and swollen with worry. "Are you sure?"
He didn't answer. She didn't press.
"Take care of yourself," she whispered. "Please."
Kaito grabbed his jacket and stepped into the cold.
---
The Cemetery
Rain slicked the pavement as he pedaled through the streets. The city felt muffled, as if holding its breath. He arrived soaked, but the numbness in his chest made the weather feel irrelevant.
Koji was already there, standing under a black umbrella near Sayuri's mother. His tie was crooked. His eyes were hollow.
"You came," Koji said, voice brittle.
Kaito nodded.
Sayuri's mother turned to him slowly. Her face looked carved from porcelain, one bad day from breaking entirely. But when she saw Kaito, her expression didn't twist into anger or blame. Just… tiredness. And something else. Something gentler.
"I'm sorry," Kaito whispered. "I… I didn't save her."
She shook her head. "You don't need to apologize. It wasn't your burden to carry."
But it was. At least, that's what Kaito believed.
He stepped forward, knelt beside the grave. Sayuri's photo stared back at him—her smile so full of life it made him ache.
He placed his hand gently on the cold stone.
"I didn't even get to tell you how I felt."
Flashback: Cherry Blossom Hill
They were twelve. The world was bigger then, brighter.
Petals floated around them like pink snow. Sayuri tugged his sleeve.
"When we grow up… can we get married?"
Kaito had laughed, face red. "Only if you become cooler."
"I will!" she huffed. "You'll see!"
Then came the pinky promise. He hadn't thought it meant much back then. Just a moment. Just a childhood thing.
But now…
Now it felt like a vow he broke.
Back at the grave, Kaito bowed his head as rain mixed with tears.
"I broke my promise…"
Koji placed a hand on his shoulder. "We all lost her, man. But she wouldn't want you to fall with her. She loved you. That has to mean something."
Kaito stood in silence as thunder rolled faintly in the distance.
"I keep thinking… if I had just said something sooner. If I hadn't run that day…"
"You can't undo it, Kaito."
"I know." His fists clenched. "But maybe… maybe I can do something with it."
Koji blinked. "What do you mean?"
Kaito looked at Sayuri's grave one last time. "I don't know. Not yet. But this… all of this… can't be for nothing."
Outside the Cemetery
He stepped out into the rain. His clothes were soaked, but he didn't feel the cold.
Above, the clouds shifted.
He looked up.
For a moment—just a moment—he thought he heard her voice in the rain.
Kaito… live.
He froze.
The voice—soft, warm, trembling with sadness. It wasn't imagination.
It was Sayuri.
Slowly, he turned.
There—at the edge of the trees, just past the cemetery fence—stood a figure.
She wore a white dress, soaked by the rain, her long black hair sticking to her face. Her skin was pale, eyes wide and glassy.
Sayuri.
But not her.
This version didn't smile.
Didn't breathe.
Her lips moved, barely visible through the downpour.
"Why didn't you save me?"
Kaito's breath caught in his throat.
He stumbled back. Blinking. Rain pouring down. The figure was gone.
No footprints.
No sound.
Just the endless hum of rain.
He fell to his knees, heart pounding like it would tear through his ribs. His fingers dug into the mud. His voice cracked in a scream he barely recognized as his own.
"I tried—!!"
Thunder rolled above.
The sky wept with him.
And yet—
Under the rage and sorrow, a new voice stirred in his soul. His own. Steady. Burning.
"This time... if I ever get the chance... I'll save you."
He stood again, eyes cold, jaw clenched.
Not knowing why.
Not knowing how.
But now, even if the world broke around him—he would find a way to keep his promise.
Even if it killed him.