The movie theater in Shibuya was crowded on Sunday afternoon. Takeshi arrived early, hands in pockets, checking his phone every thirty seconds. 2:45 PM. Movie started at 3:00.
Why am I nervous? It's just Akari.
Except it wasn't "just" anything anymore.
Her text came through: "Almost there! 2 minutes!"
His heart did something weird.
Then she appeared from the crowd.
She was wearing a light sundress—not school uniform, not training clothes, just a normal dress—and her hair was down instead of in her usual ponytail. There was makeup on her face, subtle but noticeable. Takeshi's adult mind registered it as attractive. His teenage body forgot how to function.
"H-Hey."
"Hi!" She was fidgeting, nervous too. Good. That made it less terrifying somehow.
Walking to the theater together, they were hyperaware of the space between them. Their hands brushed once and both pulled back like they'd touched fire. She talked about yesterday's goal. He thanked her for coming. Everything felt both easy and impossibly complicated.
At the ticket counter, they reached for their wallets simultaneously.
"I'll pay!"
Both of them saying it at the same time. They laughed—actual, genuine laughing—and compromised: he paid for tickets, she paid for snacks. In the concession line, they realized they both preferred action movies over the romance film she'd mentioned before.
"You like action?" he asked, surprised.
"Actually yeah. I wasn't sure if you'd want romance or something..."
"No, I like action too."
Something clicked. They weren't just compatible—they were similar.
In the theater, lights dimming, they sat close because the theater was crowded. Not by choice, just circumstance. Except when a particularly intense scene came on screen, Akari grabbed his arm without thinking. She realized what she'd done and pulled back.
"Sorry!"
"It's okay," he said quietly. And it was more than okay.
After the movie ended, they walked out arguing about scenes like they'd known each other their whole lives. She'd quote a line, he'd quote the next one. They finished each other's thoughts. Natural. Effortless.
"Want to play some games?" she asked as they passed an arcade.
They spent an hour inside. She destroyed him at the basketball shooting game. He won the racing game by inches. On the crane game, she wanted a stuffed penguin. He tried repeatedly, failing over and over while she laughed at his concentrated expression. Finally—finally—he won it.
When he handed it to her, her eyes lit up in a way that made his chest feel tight.
"I'll treasure this forever," she said, and something in how she said it felt like a promise.
They got crepes at a small shop and sat on a bench in the park, watching people pass. The afternoon was warm and golden. Comfortable silence settled between them.
"This is nice," Akari said softly.
"Yeah. It is."
"We should do this more."
"Yeah. We should."
She turned to look at him seriously. "Takeshi? I'm really glad you came back. To football. To... everything."
He understood what she meant. When he quit, he'd disappeared emotionally even though he was physically present.
"I missed you."
Processing her words, his adult mind understanding the weight. "I missed me too."
She looked confused. "What?"
"Nothing. I mean... I'm glad I came back too. And I'm glad you were here waiting."
Their eyes met. The moment stretched. Almost like he might say something more—
His phone alarm: 6:00 PM.
"Oh! I have to get home."
The moment broke.
At the station, they walked side by side. Their hands brushed occasionally but neither was brave enough to actually hold. At her platform, they stood awkwardly.
"Thanks for today, Takeshi."
"Thank you. For... everything."
Almost hugging, turning into a wave instead. Her train arrived. She turned back once, waving with the penguin plush, smiling. Then gone.
Takeshi stood alone on the platform, replaying the entire day in his mind. That warmth in his chest. He hadn't felt this way in either lifetime—not since his first relationship with Akari at fourteen in his past life, and definitely not in three years of nothing. But this was different. This was now. This was real.
He was smiling like an idiot the entire train ride home.
8:00 PM Japan time. 2:00 PM Norway time.
Takeshi called Elsa on video. She answered almost immediately, fresh from training, still in her workout clothes.
"Hey! How was the movie?" she asked, and her smile was bright.
Too bright.
"It was amazing!" His enthusiasm poured out unchecked. "Akari looked really pretty today. We saw this action movie, she loved it. Then we went to the arcade—she's really good at games, by the way. Won against me at basketball."
"That's great, Takeshi."
Her voice was steady but her eyes were distant.
He didn't notice.
"And we got crepes, just talked for hours. It felt so... easy. Natural. Like I could just be myself, you know?"
Elsa was watching his face light up on screen, and something inside her was cracking.
"I think I actually do like her, Elsa," he continued, completely oblivious. "Is that weird? With my... situation? But she makes me feel 15. In a good way. Like I can just be a normal kid."
"You deserve normal, Takeshi," she said quietly. "You should be happy."
"Thanks! You always get it."
Someone calling Elsa in the background. Norwegian voices.
"Sorry, dinner time here. Have to go," she said, voice tight.
"Oh, okay. Have fun! Talk later?"
"Yeah. Later."
She hung up before he could say goodbye.
Elsa sat on her bed, phone dark in her hand. Rain outside her window, Norway evening cold and grey. Her room felt emptier than it ever had.
She replayed the conversation in her mind. His voice so happy. Talking about Akari like she was the most interesting person in the world.
"She looked really pretty."
"It felt so easy."
"I like her."
Understanding crashed down on her all at once, and with it came the realization she'd been running from for seven years.
She was in love with him.
Not a crush. Not a phase. Not sisterly affection.
Actual, real, completely one-sided love.
She grabbed the old stuffed penguin from her bedside—a plush from Ajax days, worn and faded—and hugged it to her chest. Similar to the new one he'd just won for Akari. But this one was hers. From when she was eight years old and didn't know what heartbreak was.
The tears came quietly. Not dramatic sobbing. Just tears falling while she pressed her face into the old penguin.
"I like him," she whispered to her empty room. "I've liked him since we were eight."
Seven years of friendship. Seven years of being there. Never saying anything because she thought they had time. Thought one day he'd figure it out. Thought distance didn't matter.
But distance had mattered. In the time she'd waited, Akari had been there. Right there. In his city. In his school. In his everyday life.
She found an old photo on her desk—the six of them at Ajax, age 8. Her and Takeshi standing together, both smiling. She remembered that day. How his hand had brushed hers. How she'd felt butterflies.
She'd been too afraid to do anything with those butterflies.
Now it was too late.
Lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling while rain hit the window, she let the tears fall.
Phone buzzed. Ajax group chat. Someone posting about Takeshi's goal. His new victory.
She turned the phone face down.
Closed her eyes.
And fell asleep alone while thousands of kilometers away, her best friend fell asleep smiling.