At lunchtime, Chiaki could barely focus on her meal—her thoughts were completely consumed by Hayato. After ten long years, he was finally back, in the same building, just steps away. The thought was both exciting and unsettling. She had spent years trying to believe their story was over, that the past was just a memory best left behind.
But seeing him again shook her more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't the carefree boy who used to ruffle her hair and make her laugh. Now he was a man—calm, confident, and distant. The warmth she once saw in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cool, professional look that made her feel like a stranger.
She had imagined this moment so many times—what she would say, how he might respond, whether he'd remember her at all. But none of those imagined moments matched this reality. Would he talk to her? Would he acknowledge her? Or had he already erased her from his life, leaving her behind as just a forgotten piece of the past?
"Chiaki, are you okay?" Hana's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Chiaki blinked and forced a small smile. "I'm fine," she said, though it didn't sound convincing. She quickly changed the subject to avoid more questions.
"But wait—you still haven't told me your story," she added.
Hana's face lit up, eyes sparkling. "Oh, right!" she said, leaning in like she was about to spill a secret. "Remember when I went out during lunch a few weeks ago? I accidentally bumped into someone and spilled coffee all over my clothes. It was my fault, but he was really kind—he even brought me to a store and bought me a new shirt. He's unlike anyone I've met—so gentle and thoughtful. I regretted not asking for his name or number."
She paused, then grinned. "But a few days later, I saw him again—turns out he works here too! I'm not sure which department though."
Chiaki smiled, grateful for the change in topic. "Wow, that really does sound like fate."
Hana nodded, cheeks slightly pink. "For now, it's just a secret crush," she said softly, full of hope.
Chiaki nodded, but her mind slowly drifted back to Hayato—his presence still lingering like a shadow she couldn't shake.
Chiaki couldn't focus all morning. Her mind kept replaying their brief encounter, and the way Hayato hadn't really looked at her left her feeling empty—like the years they'd shared meant nothing to him.
*****
The next day, Chiaki walked toward the R&D department with a stack of documents in hand. Her grip tightened around the papers as she tried to stay calm, her footsteps soft against the polished floor.
She hadn't slept much the night before. The memory of Hayato looking right through her—like she wasn't even there—kept replaying in her mind. She told herself to stop overthinking, to focus on work. But as she reached for the door, it opened from the inside—and Hayato stepped out.
Chiaki froze. Her breath caught, and their eyes met. This was the moment she had quietly been expecting—fearing, hoping for. Would he say something? Would he finally break the silence after all these years?
But Hayato walked right past her.
No glance. No pause. Nothing.
He passed as if she were invisible, his face unreadable, his steps steady. Chiaki stood there, her heart sinking as she watched him walk away, his figure growing smaller with every step until his footsteps disappeared into silence.
Did he really not see her? The question echoed in her head—but deep down, she knew. He had seen her. She had caught the tiny flicker in his eyes, the brief hesitation. And still, he chose to walk away.
The truth hit her hard. He had ignored her. Her chest tightened, a quiet piece of her hope shattering.
"Chiaki?" Sohei's voice broke through the haze of her thoughts, pulling her back to reality. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Chiaki, are you okay? You look pale," Sohei asked, concern clear in his voice as he studied her. He noticed the slight tremble in her hands and the faint sweat on her forehead.
Chiaki took a deep breath, forcing a calm expression even though her heart was still racing from seeing Hayato. "It's nothing," she said, her voice steady but flat—like she was trying to convince herself too.
Sohei didn't look convinced. He looked like he wanted to say more but stopped, sensing she wasn't ready to talk.
Instead, he shifted the topic, his tone lighter though his eyes still held concern. "By the way, we're having a welcome party for Hayato next week," he said with a small smile. "You should come. We're doing a barbecue in the backyard—your favorite, right?"
Chiaki's stomach twisted at the mention of the party. A celebration for Hayato? The idea of being in the same space with him, surrounded by people who didn't know their past, pretending nothing ever happened—it was too much. Just thinking about making small talk and forcing a smile while he acted like a stranger made her chest tighten.
"I'm busy. Sorry," she said quickly, her voice sharper than she meant.
Sohei frowned, clearly worried. "Chiaki, is something wrong?"
She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "No, I'm fine. Bye."
Before he could say more, she turned and walked away, her steps quick and uneven, refusing to look back.
As she hurried down the hallway, her heart still ached from earlier—the moment Hayato passed her without a word. No matter how much she tried to ignore it or pretend it didn't matter, she couldn't escape the truth: Hayato had erased her from his life. The boy who once meant everything to her, who promised to always be there, now acted like she didn't exist.
*****
Back in his office, Hayato let out a slow breath, the weight of seeing Chiaki pressing on his chest. He leaned against his desk, gripping the edge to steady himself. His heart was still uneasy, her face stuck in his mind like a shadow he couldn't shake.
He had seen her—of course he had. The moment he stepped out of the R&D department, his eyes went straight to her. For a second, it felt like time froze. Even after all these years, her presence still drew him in. A part of him wanted to stop, to say something—anything—to close the distance between them.
But he didn't. He made himself keep walking, face unreadable, steps firm.
It was better this way, he told himself..
But what struck him most weren't the changes on the outside. It was her eyes. They weren't the same. The warmth and quiet stubbornness he used to know were gone. In their place was something heavier—something that made his chest tighten. Loneliness. And once that thought hit him, he couldn't stop wondering—had she been okay all these years? Had she struggled too? Had she ever felt as lost as he had?
Sohei's words from the day before echoed in his head: "She's different, isn't she?"
Yes. She was.
He tried to focus on the reports on his desk, but her face stayed with him—those eyes filled with quiet sadness, mirroring something he didn't want to admit. And for the first time in years, Hayato wondered if walking away had really been the right choice—or if he had just been too afraid to face what he left behind.