Years later, an art classroom hums with low chatter.
Ren Saito, now the teacher everyone says is too serious but too kind, walks between desks, checking his students' work.
On the wall hangs a framed drawing of a paper plane over the sea.
Below it: "For the ones the wind remembers."
When the last bell rings, he opens the old sketchbook one more time.
A final message appears faintly in the margin, faded almost to nothing:
> "Thank you for finishing the picture."
He smiles, closes the book, and lets the window stay open.
The wind slips through, gentle, alive, carrying laughter only he can hear.
---
Epilogue ends.
Thanks, if you read it till the end!