The surprise visit was short, a precious few hours carved out of a business trip, but its impact was immense. Seeing Sakura in my university city, walking beside me on my campus, meeting my friends – it felt like our separate worlds had momentarily converged, bridging the miles in a way calls and texts never could.
We walked and talked, reliving the surprise, sharing laughter, cherishing the unexpected physical proximity. Mr. Yamato remained nearby, a quiet, observant presence. He didn't join our walks, but I saw him watching us from a distance, his expression still thoughtful. It felt less like assessment and more like... observation of his daughter's happiness, and perhaps a reluctant acknowledgement of the source.
Introducing Sakura to Ren and Mika was a special moment. Sakura, the "Todai goddess," meeting my down-to-earth, literature-loving friends. They were a little star-struck at first, but Sakura's genuine warmth and ease quickly put them at ease. They talked about their majors, their universities, the differences in campus life. Seeing Sakura comfortably interacting with my friends, laughing at Mika's jokes, listening intently to Ren's quiet observations, filled me with a quiet pride. She wasn't just fitting in; she was being her, the real Sakura, in my world.
Before we knew it, the afternoon was drawing to a close. Mr. Yamato sent a subtle signal – it was time to go.
Saying goodbye at the station, this time my local station, felt different. There was the familiar sadness of parting, but it was tempered by the joy of the unexpected visit and the significance of the shared moments.
Sakura hugged Ren and Mika goodbye, thanking them for being so welcoming. Then, she turned to me.
Her eyes held a mix of happiness from the visit and the familiar sadness of the distance returning. She reached out and took my hands.
"Thank you for today, Hiroshi-kun," she said softly, her voice full of emotion. "It was... perfect. Seeing your world. Meeting your friends."
"Thank you for coming, Sakura," I replied, squeezing her hands. "It was the best surprise."
She smiled, a beautiful, genuine smile. "My father... he said he was glad he brought me. Said he was... glad to see you seem settled."
Her father's comment, relayed through her, felt like a monumental step. "Settled." He saw me as settled in my path. And he was glad his daughter saw it too. It wasn't full approval, but it was progress.
We shared a final hug, a tight embrace that held all the emotions of the day. The joy of reunion, the sadness of parting, the significance of the shared worlds, the quiet promise for the future.
"One hundred chapters," she murmured into my shoulder. "One hundred miles..."
"One promise," I finished softly, holding her close.
We pulled apart, looked at each other one last time, a silent reaffirmation of our commitment. Then, she turned and walked with her father towards the train, waving back at me until they were out of sight.
I stood on the platform, watching the train pull away, carrying her back to her world, leaving me in mine. But my world didn't feel so separate anymore. It had been shared, seen, and implicitly acknowledged.
One hundred chapters. It felt like a milestone. From a fake beginning to a real relationship navigating the complexities of distance and different worlds. We had faced misunderstandings, the strain of communication, the temptation of proximity, and the doubts of others. We had found comfort in nostalgia, strength in our friends, and hope in planned (and unplanned) visits.
The first 100 chapters brought us to this point – standing in our separate cities, looking towards a shared future built on a promise across miles. The journey was far from over. New challenges awaited. But as I walked away from the station, the image of Sakura's radiant smile in my city fresh in my mind, holding the memory of her father's thoughtful gaze, I knew that our unexpected love story, one hundred chapters in, was stronger than the distance, ready to face whatever the next hundred (or more) chapters would bring. The promise made on the rooftop echoed in my heart: We would figure it out. Together.