The final day of school had arrived, bringing with it an air of excitement and bittersweet farewells. The sun shone brightly through the classroom windows, casting warm golden hues over the wooden desks. Sota, Shika, Heizen, Ryoku, Maemi, Luna, Motohiro, and Rio gathered together, chatting animatedly about their summer vacation plans.
"I can't wait for summer!" Luna exclaimed, stretching her arms above her head. "The beach, the barbecues, and just lying under the sun—it's going to be amazing!"
"Hey, guys, have you considered going camping this summer?" Motohiro suggested as he casually took a sip of his soda. His eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. "I think it would be a great way to bond."
"Camping? That sounds like an excellent idea!" Heizen agreed, his excitement barely contained. "Imagine hiking through the mountains, swimming in a river, and setting up a campfire under the stars."
"I'm up for any outdoor activities," Luna chimed in, flashing a grin. "Count me in!"
Ryoku nodded thoughtfully. "It would be nice to get away from the noise of the city and just enjoy nature for a while."
As they excitedly discussed ideas, bouncing back and forth between possible dates and locations, Rio noticed that Shika had been unusually quiet. She sat at her desk, her gaze distant, hands absently playing with the hem of her skirt.
"Hey, Shika, what do you think? Any ideas?" Rio turned to her with a curious expression.
Shika looked up, her eyes reflecting sadness before she quickly masked her emotions. "I'm not sure, guys," she said softly. "My mind is occupied with other matters right now."
Sota, who had been listening attentively, furrowed his brows in concern. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Is everything alright, Shika?"
She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she forced a small smile. "Yeah, it's just... I'm not really in the mood for making plans at the moment."
Understanding the unspoken weight in her words, Heizen spoke up. "That's completely fine, Shika. We don't have to finalize anything today. Let's take it one day at a time."
The conversation continued, filled with laughter and excitement, but Shika's mind was elsewhere. As her friends chattered on, she quietly packed her belongings, her heart feeling heavier with each passing second. She knew she was running out of time.
That night, alone in her room, Shika sat at her desk, the glow of her bedside lamp casting long shadows on the wall. Her fingers trembled as she picked up a pen and a piece of paper. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she began to write.
Dear Sota,
Recently, my family received news that we will be moving to another country. I'm still trying to come to terms with this sudden change, and it's been quite overwhelming.
I wanted to express how much our friendship has meant to me. I am incredibly grateful for all the cherished memories we've created together. You've always been there for me, offering support through thick and thin. I cannot fathom navigating this new chapter without you.
However, I also realize that things will inevitably change once I depart. We won't be able to see each other or spend time with our friends as frequently as we used to. I don't wish to hold you back from anything, and that's why I made the difficult decision to unfriend you on social media. It's not a reflection of how much our friendship means to me, but rather a way to avoid being a constant reminder of something that may fade with distance.
I hope you can comprehend my perspective. I will forever cherish the memories we've created, and I will miss you more than words can convey. Take care.
Sincerely, Shika
She stared at the letter for a long moment before folding it neatly and placing it in an envelope. With a heavy heart, she reached for her phone. A deep breath later, she unfriended Sota on all platforms. The action felt final, and yet, the pain of separation still clung to her like an unbearable weight.
As Sota returned home, his younger sister Tenshi was waiting by the door, bouncing with energy. "How was your day, big brother?" she asked eagerly.
"Fine," Sota mumbled before retreating into his room.
Tenshi watched him go, her cheerful expression faltering. She had expected him to tease her or ruffle her hair like usual, but instead, he seemed distant—lost in thought.
Inside his room, Sota collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind replayed the last few days over and over again. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Shika had been avoiding him, and now, she had suddenly disappeared from his social media.
A soft rustling sound caught his attention, and he sat up, noticing an envelope on his desk. His name was written on it in familiar handwriting. With a mix of hesitation and urgency, he picked it up and carefully unfolded the letter inside.
As his eyes scanned the words, his grip on the paper tightened. His heart pounded as he read Shika's heartfelt farewell, each sentence weighing heavier than the last. By the time he reached the end, his chest ached with a deep sense of loss.
Confused, he sat up and grabbed his phone. Scrolling through their past conversations, he meticulously analyzed their messages, searching for any clue as to what had changed.
"I need to talk to her," Sota muttered to himself. His fingers hovered over his keyboard before he carefully composed a message, ensuring it wasn't too forceful or desperate.
Sota: Hey Shika, how's it going? I hope you're doing well. I've been thinking about you lately and was wondering if we could catch up sometime.
He hesitated for a moment before pressing send. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. But there was no reply.
The next day, he tried again.
Sota: Hey, just wanted to check in and see how your day was. Mine was pretty hectic, but it's always better when I get to talk to you.
Still, no response.
Days passed, then weeks, and Sota's phone remained silent. He continued reaching out, but Shika never replied. He felt as though he had been left in the dark, completely shut out despite the letter she had left behind.
Sitting alone in his room, he clenched his phone in frustration. "Why, Shika? Why did you suddenly cut me off?" he whispered to himself. His chest tightened, the ache of uncertainty gnawing at him.
The memories of their time together flooded his mind—her laughter, their shared secrets, the way she had always been by his side. And now, just like that, she was gone.
For the first time in years, Sota felt completely lost.
On a bright summer morning, Sota woke up to the golden sunlight streaming through his window, casting warm patterns on the floor. Another day filled with uncertainty. Another day without her.
As he lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, he could hear the hushed whispers of his younger sister, Tenshi, and his aunt Mika just outside his bedroom door. Their voices were tinged with warmth and careful excitement—trying their best not to disturb him, yet hoping to lift his spirits.
"Sota, it's your birthday today," Tenshi finally spoke, knocking gently on his door. "Aunt Mika and I have planned a surprise outing for you. We know it's been tough, but we want to remind you that you are loved."
For a moment, Sota remained silent. Birthdays used to mean something—they used to be filled with laughter, friends, and shared moments that he cherished. But this year felt different. The absence of a certain person made it feel incomplete. Still, he couldn't ignore his little sister's hopeful voice.
Taking a deep breath, he forced a small smile and opened the door. "Thank you, Tenshi. I appreciate it, really."
Aunt Mika stepped forward, wrapping him in a gentle embrace. She wasn't his mother, but the warmth she provided was the closest thing to it. "My dear, we understand that you're hurting, but remember, life is meant to be lived. Today, we're going to have an adventure, just like you love."
Despite the lingering sadness clinging to his chest, Sota nodded. "Alright. Let's go."
The streets were bustling under the golden glow of the summer sun. Vendors lined the sidewalks, selling warm pastries and handmade trinkets. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and grilled skewers filled the air. As they walked through the busy district, Tenshi eagerly pointed at a toy store's display window.
"Look, Sota! That plushie looks like you when you're annoyed!" she giggled, pressing her face against the glass.
Aunt Mika laughed, nudging Sota playfully. "She's not wrong."
Sota shook his head, unable to hold back the small chuckle that escaped his lips. "You two are impossible."
They strolled through the marketplace, trying different street foods. Tenshi insisted on playing arcade games, challenging Sota to a racing game—which she lost spectacularly, but celebrated anyway. For the first time in weeks, he found himself smiling genuinely.
They ended up at a sunlit lake, where the water shimmered under the afternoon rays and boats were available for rental. "Come on, Sota, let's row!" Tenshi beamed, pulling him toward one.
"Fine, but if we capsize, it's your fault," Sota smirked, rolling up his sleeves.
Aunt Mika watched them from the dock, shaking her head. "Just don't throw each other into the water."
As they paddled across the lake, the weight on Sota's chest lightened. The stillness of the water, the ripples trailing behind them, and Tenshi's constant chatter—all of it made him forget, even if just for a little while.
But as the summer sky turned to hues of orange and pink, a familiar ache crept back in.
Sota paused, resting his oar across his lap. His reflection in the water stared back at him, mirroring the emotions swirling inside.
Tenshi, noticing his change in demeanor, frowned. "Sota?"
He turned to his sister and aunt, his voice soft but firm. "Thank you both for everything today. I had so much fun, but… I want to go home."
They didn't question him. Aunt Mika simply nodded, her understanding expression saying more than words could.
The car ride home was a mix of comfortable silence and gentle conversation. The radio played softly in the background, and the occasional streetlight flickered through the windows, casting fleeting glows on Sota's face.
As they entered their house, a familiar sense of comfort wrapped around him. The warm light of the living room felt like a quiet embrace. Tenshi plopped onto the couch, stretching out her arms, while Aunt Mika headed to the kitchen to brew some tea.
Sota stood by the doorway, hesitant, before finally speaking. "I miss her, you know? And it's been eating me up inside."
Aunt Mika set the kettle down and walked over to him. Without hesitation, she reached out and squeezed his hand. "I know, sweetheart. And it's okay to feel this way. But remember, you're not alone in this. We're here for you, and we'll support you every step of the way."
Sota exhaled slowly, nodding as he sat down beside his sister. Tenshi curled up against him, resting her head on his arm. "It's okay to be sad, big brother. But we'll always be here to make you smile again."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Sota let himself relax. He wasn't okay yet, but maybe—just maybe—he didn't have to be. Not alone, anyway.
Sota spent most of his time secluded in his room, engrossed in video games and aimlessly scrolling through his phone. His appetite had diminished, and he lacked the motivation to engage in activities he once enjoyed. When Tenshi, his little sister, tried to uplift his spirits by inviting him to go out and have fun, he would decline, opting to remain locked away in his solitude.
His room was in complete disarray—unwashed laundry piled in the corner, stacks of untouched textbooks gathering dust on his desk, and empty pizza boxes scattered across the floor. The air was thick with the scent of cold leftovers and unopened energy drinks. It was as if his physical space reflected the turmoil in his mind.
Heizen and Ryoku, growing more concerned for their friend, decided to pay him a visit. They knocked on his door, receiving no response at first. Exchanging worried glances, Heizen finally pushed it open, revealing Sota sitting on his bed, lost in thought, the glow of his phone screen casting a dim light over his tired features.
Heizen sat down beside him while Ryoku leaned against the window, observing the scene with quiet concern. The silence in the room was deafening, stretching between them like an invisible barrier.
"Sota," Heizen finally broke the silence, his voice firm but gentle. "What's going on? You haven't been yourself lately. Is this about Shika?"
Sota sighed heavily, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Yeah, it's about Shika. She left me without any explanation, and I can't stop thinking about her," he admitted, his voice laced with exhaustion and frustration. "I keep replaying everything in my head, trying to figure out what I did wrong."
Heizen nodded, understanding the depth of his friend's pain. Ryoku, standing in silence, observed Sota carefully, his empathetic nature picking up on the weight of his emotions.
"Sota," Ryoku finally spoke up, his voice calm but unwavering, "you can't keep dwelling on what you don't know. Sometimes, people make choices that don't make sense to us. But fixating on it won't change anything. What matters now is how you move forward."
Sota's brows furrowed as he clenched his fists. "But I need closure, Ryoku. I can't just let it go without any answers."
Ryoku stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Sota's shoulder. "Closure doesn't always come in the form of explicit explanations. Sometimes, it's something we have to find within ourselves. You have to find a way to let go of the past and focus on your own growth."
In a mixture of disbelief and anguish, Sota muttered, "Hey, Ryoku… did Shika block you on social media too?" He glanced at his phone, still struggling to grasp the situation.
Ryoku sighed, nodding solemnly. "Yeah. After you told me about the letter, I tried reaching out, but it's the same for me. It's like she cut off everyone who was close to her. I don't understand why."
Sota gritted his teeth, gripping his phone tightly. "It's like she just vanished without a trace… without a second thought." His voice wavered between frustration and sorrow.
Heizen clapped a hand on Sota's back, his usual playful demeanor subdued. "Alright, that's it. You need to get out of here. Let's go do something—anything. We can play football, hit the arcade, or just go to the beach."
Sota hesitated, torn between wallowing in his pain and the need for distraction. After a long pause, he sighed, "Fine. Let's go to the beach tomorrow."
The next afternoon, the sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the gentle waves. The scent of salt and sunscreen filled the air, and laughter from families and couples echoed across the shore. Sota sat on a lounge chair, watching Heizen and Ryoku attempt to build a sandcastle, their playful bickering carrying over the sound of the waves.
Despite the warmth of the sun on his skin and the comfort of his friends' company, Sota's heart remained heavy. His gaze drifted to a couple walking hand in hand along the water's edge, their laughter light and carefree. He felt a pang of jealousy, an aching reminder of what he had lost. The thought of what could have been—what should have been—haunted him.
"Hey, are you okay?" A familiar voice broke through his thoughts. He looked up to see Heizen standing over him, concern evident in his expression.
Sota forced a small smile. "Yeah. Just lost in thought."
Heizen sat down beside him, handing him a cold bottle of water. "Look, man, I know it's rough. But you can't live in the past forever. You have to move forward, even if it's one small step at a time. You deserve to be happy."
Sota stared at the waves for a moment before nodding slowly. "Thanks, Heizen. I appreciate it."
They spent the rest of the afternoon trying to enjoy themselves. Sota let himself get pulled into their activities—playing a game of beach volleyball, splashing each other in the waves, and even laughing when Heizen wiped out spectacularly while trying to show off his surfing skills.
For a few fleeting hours, Sota allowed himself to be present, to let go. But as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the familiar emptiness crept back in.
Returning home, Sota shut his bedroom door behind him and leaned against it, exhaling deeply. The day had been a welcome distraction, but reality had come crashing back the moment he stepped inside.
The loneliness was still there. The unanswered questions. The lingering pain.
He slid onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. The echoes of laughter from earlier felt distant now, almost unreal. As much as he wanted to believe he was moving forward, he knew it wasn't going to be that easy.
But maybe, just maybe, tomorrow would be a little better.