New Year's fireworks exploded over Tokyo Bay, painting the sky in brilliant colors. Hana and Ren stood on the rooftop of their apartment building, arms wrapped around each other.
"Happy New Year, my love," Ren whispered, kissing Hana's temple.
Hana smiled, snuggling closer. "Happy New Year."
As the last sparks faded, Ren suddenly pulled away. Hana turned, confused, to find him on one knee.
"Hana Takahashi," Ren said, his voice trembling slightly. He pulled out a small velvet box. "These past two years have been the happiest of my life. Will you marry me?"
Tears welled in Hana's eyes. "Yes," she breathed. "A thousand times yes."
Ren slipped the ring on her finger - a delicate silver band with a small diamond. Simple, elegant, perfect.
They kissed as cheers erupted around them, strangers celebrating the new year and, unknowingly, their engagement.
The next few months passed in a whirlwind of planning and preparations. Hana's parents, initially skeptical of her relationship with a musician, had grown to appreciate Ren's dedication and talent. Still, tensions lingered.
"Are you sure about this, Hana?" her mother asked during a dress fitting. "It's not too late to reconsider."
Hana met her mother's gaze in the mirror. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Mom."
The wedding was a small affair in a quiet shrine. Ren's band played softly as Hana walked down the aisle. Their vows, written by Hana, brought tears to everyone's eyes.
At the reception, Ren surprised Hana with a song he'd written for her. As the last notes faded, he pulled her close. "I love you, Hana Nakamura," he whispered.
Hana's heart soared. "I love you too, Ren Nakamura."
Two years flew by. Hana's first novel, inspired by their love story, became a bestseller. She was working on her second book, frequently appearing on talk shows and literary panels.
Ren's career soared as well. His band gained international recognition, and he began composing for films. Their small apartment filled with awards and accolades.
On February 14th, their second wedding anniversary, they decided to celebrate at the ramen shop where they'd had their first real date.
"Remember how nervous we were?" Hana laughed, stirring her noodles.
Ren grinned. "I was terrified you'd realize I was a broke musician and run for the hills."
"Never," Hana said softly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.
As they left the restaurant, snow began to fall. They walked hand in hand, reminiscing about the past and dreaming of the future.
"I have a surprise for you at home," Ren said, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Hana raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of surprise?"
Ren just smiled, pulling her along.
They were waiting for the light to change at a busy intersection. Ren leaned in to whisper something in Hana's ear.
Neither of them saw the car skidding on the icy road.
Tires screeched. People screamed.
Hana felt Ren's hands on her back, shoving her hard. She stumbled forward, falling onto the snowy sidewalk.
The impact was deafening.
When Hana looked up, her world shattered.
Ren lay motionless in the street, a growing pool of red staining the snow around him.
"REN!" Hana screamed, scrambling to his side. "Ren, please, no, no, no..."
His eyes fluttered open, focusing on her face. "Hana," he whispered. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she sobbed. "Just stay with me, please. Help is coming."
Ren's breathing was labored. "I love you," he managed. "Always have... always will..."
His eyes closed.
"No, Ren, please," Hana begged. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."
Paramedics arrived, gently pulling Hana away. She watched, numb with shock, as they worked on Ren.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. Hana sat in the waiting room, Ren's blood still on her hands, praying to every god she knew.
Hours passed. Finally, a doctor approached, his face grim.
"Mrs. Nakamura," he said softly. "I'm so sorry..."
Hana's anguished cry echoed through the hospital.
The days that followed were a haze of grief and disbelief. News of Ren's death spread quickly. Social media exploded with tributes from fans and fellow musicians.
Hana's phone rang constantly - friends, family, her publisher. She ignored them all, curled up in their bed, clutching Ren's pillow.
On the third day, Ren's bandmates came to the apartment. They sat with Hana in silence, sharing in her grief.
"He was writing a new song," Kenji, the bassist, said softly. "He wanted to surprise you with it tonight."
He handed Hana a crumpled piece of paper. Ren's handwriting covered it, lyrics and musical notes intertwined.
The title at the top read: "For Hana, My Eternal Love."
Fresh tears spilled down Hana's cheeks.
The funeral was held a week later. Hundreds attended - family, friends, fans, and fellow artists. Hana stood stoically as people offered condolences, her parents on either side, supporting her.
During the service, Ren's band played his final song. Hana closed her eyes, letting the melody wash over her. For a moment, she could almost feel Ren's arms around her.
As cherry blossoms fell, Hana approached the casket to say her final goodbye. She placed a single red rose and the lyric sheet on top.
"I love you," she whispered. "Always have, always will."
The media frenzy that followed was overwhelming. Hana retreated to her parents' home, unable to face the apartment she'd shared with Ren.
Weeks turned into months. Hana's publisher gently suggested she write about her experience. "It could help you heal," he said.
At first, Hana refused. The pain was too raw, too deep. But as spring turned to summer, she found herself at her laptop, words pouring out.
She wrote about their first meeting, their whirlwind romance, the challenges they'd faced. She wrote about lazy Sunday mornings and passionate kisses. She wrote about dreams shared and promises made.
And she wrote about that snowy night, the screech of tires, the last words they'd shared.
Writing became her lifeline, a way to keep Ren's memory alive. She poured her heart and soul into every word.
One year after Ren's death, Hana's new book was published. "Eternal Melody: A Love Story" became an instant bestseller. Critics praised its raw honesty and beautiful prose.
On the anniversary of the accident, Hana visited Ren's grave. She placed fresh flowers and a copy of her book.
"I did it, my love," she said softly. "Our story will live forever."
As she turned to leave, a gentle breeze rustled the cherry blossoms overhead. For a moment, Hana could have sworn she heard the faint strains of a familiar melody.
She smiled through her tears. "I love you, Ren," she whispered. "Always have, always will."
Hana walked away, her heart heavy but filled with love. She knew that somewhere, somehow, Ren was watching over her, his eternal melody playing just for her.