The park was quiet that night. Streetlights cast long golden shadows over the path, and the river nearby hummed with its gentle current. The world felt slowed down—as if it knew something important was about to happen.
She stood beneath the old lamppost, her arms tucked close to her body. Hanabi.
When Narumi arrived, she didn't turn to face him right away. Just the sound of her soft breath mixing with the breeze.
He stepped closer, heart steady, footsteps soft on the gravel.
"Hanabi?"His voice was gentle, but there was a hint of confusion behind it—he still didn't know why she had asked to meet him so late at night.
She turned slowly, eyes catching the lamplight. Her lips were pressed together, unsure. Watching him.
Hanabi turned slowly, eyes catching the lamplight. Her lips were pressed together, unsure. Watching him.
There was a pause—then she spoke, barely above a whisper.
"Back then… I thought I was just confused. I told myself you were only comfort, a distraction. But I kept thinking about you. Even now, I still do."
"Remember when we were young? Those were good days..."She stopped for a moment, eyes drifting to the ground—then slowly lifted them, gaze sharper now, serious."Sometimes… I hope those days come back."A breath. Then, softer but trembling with weight—
She stepped forward, not close enough to touch, but closer than before.
"I love you, Senpai. I've loved you for a long time… I can't hold it in anymore."
Silence fell like a hush. The wind stirred the trees gently, as if careful not to break the moment.
Narumi's gaze lowered, then returned to hers—soft, hesitant.
"Hanabi... I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly. "But my heart... it's already with someone else."
She didn't answer right away. Her shoulders tensed, lips pressed tight as her gaze dropped. One hand gripped the fabric of her sleeve—too hard.
"...I see."
Her voice barely made it past her throat. A trembling breath followed, then silence.
Narumi stepped forward gently.
"Thank you, Hanabi."
And without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her. Not out of love, but out of care.
She stiffened—but only for a second. Then the weight in her chest gave in.
Quiet sobs escaped against his shoulder, muffled but raw. She gripped the back of his shirt, trembling, tears running freely now. No more holding it in.
The river kept flowing behind them. The lamplight stayed warm.
And for just a moment, she let herself break—where no one else could see.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. And yet neither moved—until Hanabi finally steadied herself, wiping her eyes.Then, gently, Narumi let go… and left.
She stood there alone, holding herself together again beneath the fading glow of the streetlamp.
The river beside Hanabi flowed on. Like memory. Like time. Like something that might, someday, return—differently.