The week passed slowly—like time itself had grown heavy, dragging each day behind it. The sunlight still poured through the windows of Sakura High, the laughter of students still echoed across the courtyard, but for Beru, the world had lost its color.
Every morning felt the same. She walked to school with her bag hugged close to her chest, the faint scent of cherry blossoms in the air doing little to lift her mood. The halls were crowded, yet she felt utterly alone.
Haruto's laughter used to greet her near the shoe lockers. He'd always wait—sometimes pretending to be reading a manga, sometimes waving with that bright grin that never failed to make her day a little warmer. But this week, he wasn't there.
Not once.
He had "plans with Saya."
At first, Beru had told herself it was just one day, maybe two. But by the third, then the fourth, and now the fifth, the chair beside her in the Cosmic S.T.A.R Club remained empty. The absence of his voice, his energy, his warmth—it hollowed out the room.
Luna noticed it before anyone else. She was always the observant one, masking her understanding beneath gentle teasing.
That afternoon, the clubroom was unusually quiet. The telescope stood by the open window, the faint breeze rustling the curtains. Souta and Tadao hadn't come either, caught up in their own projects, leaving just Luna and Beru behind.
Beru sat near the back, a book open on her desk but unread. Her eyes kept flickering to the door every few minutes—hoping, wishing, waiting.
"Hey, Beru," Luna said softly, setting down a plate of snacks beside her. "You okay?"
Beru blinked, startled by the question. "Huh? Oh… yeah, I'm fine."
But her voice wavered, and the lie was too thin to hold.
Luna didn't call her out for it. She simply smiled and sat beside her, opening her own notebook and pretending to be busy. "You know, you can't stare at stars on an empty stomach," she said with quiet humor, pushing the plate toward her. "Even cosmic girls need sugar."
Beru's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Thanks, Luna."
She picked up a small biscuit, though she barely tasted it. Her mind was elsewhere—on a certain boy who had once filled this room with laughter.
Across town, that same boy was laughing indeed—but somewhere else entirely.
---
Haruto and Saya walked side by side down the street near the station, the late afternoon light golden and soft. Saya's long red hair shimmered as the breeze caught it, and she turned to him with that effortless grace that always made others stop and stare.
"So… what do you think of this place?" she asked, gesturing to the café ahead of them. It was a small, elegant spot with a sakura motif painted across the window.
Haruto rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. "You've really got an eye for these things. I'd never have found this on my own."
Saya giggled lightly. "That's why you have me now."
They entered, and the staff greeted Saya by name—of course they did. She was the kind of person who made an impression everywhere she went.
Haruto watched as she spoke confidently with the waiter, her smile bright, her tone refined. He admired her ease, how different she seemed from everyone else. When she looked at him, it was like the whole world focused for a moment.
And yet, somewhere deep down, he felt… off-balance.
As Saya chatted animatedly about the next school festival, his mind drifted—flashes of a different scene playing in the back of his thoughts.
Beru laughing softly under the cherry trees.
Beru pointing at constellations during their club's first night together.
Beru's gentle voice saying, "Haruto, look… isn't that beautiful?"
He blinked and shook his head slightly, forcing himself back to the present. Saya was watching him, curious.
"Are you listening, Haruto?"
"Ah—yeah, sorry," he said quickly, smiling sheepishly. "I spaced out for a second."
She pouted playfully. "You'd better not make a habit of that. I don't share my time easily, you know."
He laughed, but it felt a little hollow even to him.
---
Back in the clubroom, Luna stretched and sighed. "I guess he's not coming again today, huh?"
Beru's eyes flicked toward Haruto's empty seat one last time before she closed her book. "Yeah… I guess not."
The words came out softly, almost like a whisper lost to the wind.
Luna leaned her chin on her palm. "Beru… you don't have to pretend it doesn't bother you. Everyone can see it."
Beru's fingers tightened around the edge of her book. "It's not that. It's just… I'm happy for him. Really."
But her voice betrayed her.
"Beru." Luna's tone was gentle, but firm. "It's okay to be sad."
Beru looked up, meeting Luna's kind eyes—and something in her composure cracked. "I just didn't expect it to hurt this much," she whispered. "I knew he might like someone someday, but I thought… maybe I'd be ready when that happened. I guess I was wrong."
The silence that followed was soft, but heavy. Luna reached out and gave her hand a light squeeze. "You're stronger than you think," she murmured.
Beru nodded faintly, wiping her eyes before standing. "I think… I'll go home early."
---
That night, the Denzaki neighborhood was quiet. The air smelled faintly of rain and blooming sakura.
Beru sat by her window, as she always did, a thin blanket around her shoulders. The sky stretched wide and endless, stars scattered like fragments of glass. Once, that sight had filled her with warmth—the mystery, the beauty, the way Haruto would talk about each constellation like it was a story waiting to be told.
But tonight, they seemed distant, unfeeling.
She traced a small circle on the windowpane with her finger, whispering his name softly, like a secret.
Across the street, Haruto sat at his own window, his elbows on the sill, a faint smile still lingering from the day. He'd walked Saya home after their café date, listening to her talk about her dreams, her favorite books, her plans for the future. She was dazzling in every sense.
But as he watched the stars now, that same ache returned. The quiet, unexplainable tug in his chest.
He thought of Beru again—of how she used to lean over his notebook and doodle stars in the margins, of how her laughter always carried warmth, never demand.
He hadn't seen that smile in days.
For a brief moment, his heart whispered a truth he wasn't ready to hear. You miss her.
But he pushed it away. He didn't want to be unfair—to Saya, to himself, or to Beru. He'd made a choice, hadn't he?
He sighed and leaned back, staring at the sky. "What's wrong with me…" he murmured.
---
Meanwhile, in her room, Beru's tears fell silently. She didn't sob, didn't shake. It was a quiet pain—the kind that settled in the chest and refused to leave.
Her phone buzzed once. A message from Luna:
> "Look at the stars, Beru. They're still yours too."
Beru smiled faintly, though her eyes blurred. She opened her window wider and looked up. The stars shimmered faintly, but their light felt colder now—like they were watching from a distance, unable to help.
"Please," she whispered into the night, voice trembling. "Let him be happy… even if it's not with me."
The wind carried her words away, scattering them among the petals that drifted from the cherry trees.
---
The next day, life went on. Students laughed, teachers scolded, and the world continued as though nothing had changed. But inside Beru, everything had.
She passed Haruto in the hallway once, his hand lightly brushing Saya's as they talked. He smiled at her—friendly, familiar—but it only made the ache deepen.
She smiled back, the kind that looked perfect on the surface but broke apart the moment she turned away.
After class, Luna found her on the rooftop, the wind teasing her hair. "You're up here again," Luna said softly, sitting beside her.
Beru nodded. "It's quiet here."
Luna looked up at the sky. "Do you still believe in fate, Beru?"
Beru hesitated. "I used to. When we first started the club, I thought maybe the stars had a reason for everything—that maybe Haruto and I met because we were meant to." She smiled sadly. "Now I'm not so sure."
"Maybe fate isn't about what's meant to be," Luna said gently. "Maybe it's about what we choose to carry, even when it hurts."
Beru turned her gaze to the horizon, the setting sun staining the sky in gold and rose. "Then I'll carry this quietly," she whispered. "Even if he never knows."
---
That evening, Haruto walked home with Saya again. She talked about her upcoming piano recital, her voice bubbling with excitement. He smiled and nodded, but his answers were softer now, his laughter thinner.
When they reached her house, she turned to him. "Hey… Haruto," she said suddenly, "you seem distant lately. Are you… bored of me already?"
He blinked, caught off guard. "What? No, of course not!"
She crossed her arms, pouting slightly. "Then what's wrong?"
He hesitated, then smiled gently. "I just have a lot on my mind. That's all."
She studied him for a long moment before finally sighing. "You're strange sometimes, you know that?"
"Yeah," he admitted, laughing lightly. "I get that a lot."
As she waved and walked inside, Haruto stood under the falling petals for a while longer, looking up at the same sky Beru was staring at.
The stars blinked faintly above—a silent witness to the growing distance between them.
---
Back in her room, Beru hugged her pillow close, the faint hum of the city fading into the background. Her thoughts drifted to the first time she'd met Haruto—the way he'd helped her pick up her dropped books, smiling awkwardly, sunlight catching in his hair.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Now, even though they lived just streets apart, she felt like he was already a world away.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she whispered softly, "If the stars could hear me… please, let this pain fade soon."
Outside, a single cherry petal brushed her window and fell away into the dark.
And across the quiet night, two hearts beat beneath the same sky—one full of confusion, the other full of longing.
The distance between them grew wider still, shimmering faintly, like the space between stars.
---
To be continued...