Takahashi Renjiro had grown used to silence at home. His father, a stern man who worked long hours in construction, spoke little unless it was to criticize, while his mother buried herself in housework, exhausted and distant. Their small two-story house stood side by side with the cheerful Kobayashi household, but the contrast couldn't have been sharper. Laughter echoed daily from the Kobayashis' windows, while Renjiro's home seemed perpetually heavy, as though joy itself was forbidden to enter.
It was in that silence that Renjiro first came to notice the light that lived next door: Kobayashi Asuka. She was the only daughter of a middle-class family. Her father, a kind office worker, often brought home souvenirs for her, and her mother, gentle but firm, encouraged Asuka's curiosity and independence. Their home was warm and welcoming, filled with the smell of home-cooked meals and the chatter of evening conversations. For Renjiro, who often returned to an empty table, being invited to dinner at the Kobayashis' felt like stepping into another world.
He still remembered the first time. He was six years old, sitting awkwardly at the table while Asuka's mother set down steaming bowls of curry rice. Asuka nudged him with her elbow and whispered, "Eat lots, okay? Mama says you're too skinny." He had laughed nervously, but as he tasted the meal, his eyes watered—partly from the spice, but mostly from the warmth of being cared for. That was when the thought first bloomed in his young heart: I want to be with Asuka always.
Their childhood was full of little adventures. On hot summer days, they ran through the streets with water balloons, soaking each other until Asuka's laugh echoed down the entire block. In autumn, they collected fallen leaves, pretending they were magical talismans that could ward off monsters. One winter, when snow fell heavily, Asuka dragged him outside at dawn to build a lopsided snowman, insisting it was their "guardian spirit."
But the most important memory came when they were ten. Renjiro had gotten into a fight with older boys who mocked his worn-out shoes and quiet demeanor. He came home with a scraped face, and before his parents even noticed, Asuka stormed into his yard, scolding him. "You dummy! You're supposed to laugh, not fight! When you laugh, it makes me feel like nothing can hurt me!" He blinked in surprise, then smiled despite the blood on his lip. "Then I'll smile for you… always." From that day onward, he carried her words in his heart like a vow.
By the time they reached high school, their bond seemed unshakable. To others, they looked like the perfect pair of childhood friends—always walking home together, sharing inside jokes, sitting beside each other during festivals. What no one else saw was the weight behind Renjiro's smile. He loved her—not with the fleeting crush of youth, but with the quiet, burning devotion of someone who had built his entire sense of belonging around her.
Yet he was afraid. Afraid that if he confessed, he might lose the easy closeness they had. So he swallowed his feelings day after day, pretending it was enough just to see her laugh.
On Valentine's Day, however, the façade began to crack. School was buzzing with excitement, with girls sneaking chocolates into shoe lockers or handing them to blushing boys. Renjiro didn't expect anything—he never did. But during lunch, Asuka approached him with a small box wrapped in red paper. "Here," she said, cheeks flushed. "It's just… friendship chocolate, okay? Don't get weird ideas."
Renjiro accepted it with a grin, but inside his heart thundered. Her "friendship" gift was special—it was the only one she had made herself, carefully tied with ribbon. It was the sign he had been waiting for. That evening, as they walked home beneath the streetlamps, his courage finally broke free.
"Asuka," he said softly, "there's something I've been hiding for a long time." She turned to him curiously, scarf swaying in the breeze. "I… I love you."
The words hung in the air, trembling like the last leaf clinging to a branch in winter. Asuka's eyes widened, her breath catching. "Renjiro… I—" Her hands clutched her scarf tighter. "I… don't know what to say. Please… just give me some time. I didn't think you'd say it first."
He smiled faintly despite the ache in his chest. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait."
But fate had other plans.
Later that evening, restless and unable to stay still, Renjiro spotted her across the street. Relief filled him—until two hooded men stepped out of the shadows and seized her. Her muffled cry cut through the night, and without hesitation, Renjiro ran.
"Asuka!" he shouted, throwing himself at the kidnappers with reckless fury.
The fight was brutal. He had no training, no weapon, nothing but his fists and desperation. Every blow he landed was answered with greater force, and his body screamed with pain. Still, he refused to stop. Every memory—their summers, their laughter, her promise to smile—burned like fire in his veins.
At last, the men fled, cursing, leaving Asuka trembling but safe. Renjiro collapsed, bloodied and broken.
"Renjiro!" Asuka cried, kneeling beside him. He looked up at her, vision fading. "I'm glad… you're safe," he whispered weakly.
Tears streamed down her face. "You idiot! Why would you do this? Why would you throw your life away for me?"
He smiled faintly, lips trembling. "Because… I promised to always… make you smile."
Her sobs wracked her body as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. "Then before you die," she whispered shakily, "I'm taking your first kiss… and giving you mine. Because I love you too, Renjiro."
His last breath was laughter—weak but real. And even as his body stilled, her words and her kiss carried him into the darkness.
And somewhere beyond mortal reach, a voice stirred in the heavens.
"Even at death, your bond makes you laugh together… Very well. Let your love leap across worlds. Let your bond defy gods."
Thus began a story of eternal bonds that no world, no god, could sever.