Hiyori introduced Ren on a quiet Saturday afternoon.
They met at the café Hinako had recently opened a small corner for weekend visitors. The sun slanted softly through the windows, making everything feel calm and familiar.
Asahi was the first to smile, extending a hand without hesitation.
“So you’re the one,” he said, eyes twinkling.
A month passed.
Life continued in its familiar rhythm—long hours, tired evenings, and meals eaten too late. Hiyori thought of him sometimes, but without longing. Just curiosity, faint and unforced.
They met again by coincidence.
It was nearly midnight at a convenience store, fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. Hiyori stood in front of the shelves, staring blankly at instant noodles, too exhausted to decide. Overtime had drained her completely.
Four years was a long time.
Long enough for first love to settle into memory, no longer sharp at the edges. Long enough for Hiyori to look back without pain, only a quiet fondness—like revisiting a place she once lived in, grateful for what it had been.
Asahi and Hinako had been together for four years now.
Hiyori had always believed that some people entered your life and stayed there forever.
Asahi was one of them.
They had met in kindergarten, two children left lingering by the classroom door after everyone else had gone home. He had offered her half his apple juice without a word, and she had accepted it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. From that moment on, he became constant—walking her home, sitting beside her in class, listening when she spoke like her thoughts mattered.
Hiyori has loved Asahi for as long as she can remember. From a shared childhood in kindergarten to the quiet companionship of adolescence, he was her constant—her closest friend and her first love. She never confessed, believing that some feelings were meant to be held in silence.
Synopsis:
At eleven years old, Fujita Yuma’s life changed forever when his younger twin brother, Haruma, was kidnapped. Though Haruma was rescued a month later, he returned broken—physically and emotionally—his survival hanging by a fragile thread. The family spent years fighting to keep him alive, then whole years more ensuring he stayed safe.
Summary:
There was someone missing from the class—or so it seemed. The empty seat surrounded by them felt like proof.
