April 13th, 2015

I've been scrambling-selling off everything I own, draining my savings, doing whatever it takes to pay my mom back. She's been through so much because of me, always picking up the pieces when I've messed up.

But the guilt... it's unbearable.

Every time I hand over another bit of cash, thinking it might make things right-that it might make me feel better-it doesn't. There's always this weight, pressing down on me, reminding me of all the times I failed her, of the mess I've made of everything. No matter how much I give, it never feels like enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

I keep wondering if there's any way to fix it all. To stop being such a burden. And the only answer that makes sense... is leaving.

I walked south to the bridge today, just standing there, staring at the edge. I thought about what it'd feel like to let go, to let the wind carry me over. I saw myself on the railing, feeling the cold metal under my hands, leaning forward, waiting for something-anything-to push me, but in reality, I'm just looking over the edge watching the river flow, Fireworks were going off in the distance.

And for a moment, I thought-maybe I'm not ready to let go. Not yet.

So, I turned around and walked home.

As I slowly walked back. The night was everywhere, filling the air with a deep, aching loneliness., it felt like something inside of me was reaching out for something, longing for something, yet I couldn't quite find whatever it was that I was longing for. Was it a need for a connection? For friends? Or was it something deeper-a longing for myself?

When I got back, I went straight upstairs, marked today on my torn-up calendar, and collapsed onto the floor. Sleep pulled me under before I had a chance to think about anything else.

April 14th

The next morning, I woke up to the quiet clink of dishes. I headed downstairs and sat at the dining table with my mom and little sister. We ate in silence as usual, But something was different Today: My mom had this strange grin on her face.

"Why are you smiling?" I asked, unable to shake the feeling that something was coming.

Without a word, she pulled out the envelope. The one filled with the money I'd given her.

"I'm proud of you," she said softly. "You worked hard for this, and you even sold everything you had."

A short yet long pause lingered between us, and then her voice dropped along with the smile.

"Taro... why were you trying to kill yourself?"

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I froze, my mind scrambling, trying to figure out what to say. I opened my mouth to explain, to deny it, to say anything-but she cut me off.

"I knew it. I knew something was wrong," she said, her voice shaking. "Your room is empty, your phone's disconnected, and that damn calendar of yours-it's all torn apart after April."

Suddenly, she stood up and walked to the stove. She turned the burner on, and the flame flickered to life. Then, she held the envelope over it, her hands were trembling.

"If you don't promise me-right here, right now-that you won't kill yourself, I'll burn it. All of it."

My heart pounded. I dropped to my knees, my voice barely a whisper. "I promise," I said, unsure of whether I meant it or not. "I promise won't do it."

But it was too late. The fire reached the edge of the envelope, and the bills inside caught flame.

We both lunged for it, trying to extinguish the fire, but it was too late. Within moments, the money was ash.

I didn't feel anything. Not anger. Not sadness. Just... nothing. I knelt there, staring at the charred remnants of everything I'd worked for, and for a moment, I thought maybe i would never feel anything again. Maybe that's what it means to be empty.

My mom stood over me, calm, her voice colder then i have ever heard. "I'm sorry your hard-earned money had to burn. But you didn't need it, did you? Since you were planning to die anyway."

What came afterwards was a suffocating silence. i couldn't look at her. I couldn't even find the words to explain what was spiralling inside my head.

I just sat there, wondering what the hell i was supposed to do next.

I had no answers. None at all.

so I retreated to my room and collapsed onto the floor, letting the silence and the ringing in my ear press in on me. My mind felt hollow, numb. But then something caught my eye-tucked into the corner, half hidden by dust: a diary.

Not mine. But Miyu's.

I froze. The sight of it, after all these years, it hit me harder then i expected. Miyu Tanaka... she's the girl who i had tormented, the one i had cruelly pushed away. The one whose life got dragged through the dirt for no reason at all. and now... i can't really blame her for the way I am now. everything i did was a product of my own decisions, and the guilt? well its all mine to bare.

When my friends turned on me, it felt like a punishment. Like I was getting what I deserved. But none of them bore the consequences of any of it. it was only me. I was the only one to bare the collective consequences of it all.

Loneliness has taken over me ever since, growing heavier with each passing day. I've become a shadow that clings behind people's backs, dragging others down, a burden. Worthless.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't get away from the memories of how that diary had come to be in my possession. It wasn't just any diary, it was a collection of Miyu's thoughts, dreams, and secrets-the very essence of the girl I had once tormented. I remembered the day I found it seven years ago on the schoolyard, left behind like a forgotten piece of her.

I had been lurking in the shadows, feeling detached from everyone when I noticed it lying on the ground, pages fluttering in the wind.

Curious and feeling mischievous, I picked it up. I thought it would be a perfect chance to get under Miyu's skin, to invade her privacy. I thumbed through the pages, recalling how her words spilled out like whispers-intimate thoughts about her hopes, her fears, snippets of her life. It was raw.

Instead of returning it, I took it home, tucking it away in the back of my closet, where it collected dust along with the weight of my regret. It became a constant reminder of my cruelty-a tangible piece of evidence of how far I had fallen. Each time I stumbled across it, I was struck by a wave of shame, a reminder of the monster I have been. I never had the courage to confront Miyu about it or return it to her. Instead, it lingered in the shadows of my room, just like my guilt.

And now, here it was again, resurfacing like a ghost from the past. Should I read it and confront the truth, or should I let it remain a relic of the person I wanted to forget? I was torn between wanting to know her truth and fearing the memories it would drag back to the surface.

What now? Do I open it? Or should I leave it untouched? I'm terrified of what's inside. Will it be a reflection, showing me the monster I was-the person I swore I'd never be again?

I can't. I won't.

Screw it.

With a swift motion, I tossed the diary back into the corner, shut my eyes, and stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim me, waiting for something to take away the endless spiral of guilt.

April 15th

I wake up to the sound of my little sister, Hanako, calling me repeatedly, her voice getting louder until I finally open my eyes.

As I sit up from my spot on the carpet, I see her standing just down the stairs from the attic, still shouting as if I'm not awake yet.

"Hanako," I call out, rubbing my eyes. "I'm up. Please lower your voice-it's 6:30 AM."

She finally hears me, gives me a thumbs up, and hops away, her energy already too much for the early morning.

I get up from the barren attic, heading to the bathroom to clean myself up and brush my teeth. Afterward, I return to my room to get dressed for the day. going thought it on autopilot mode. When I returned to my room to get dressed for the day. My eyes landed on the diary again, sitting exactly where i had tossed it in the corner.

Before i head downstairs, I pause, staring at it as if it might answer the questions swirling in my head. A part of me wonders if taking it with me could somehow bridge the gap between my past self and who I'm trying to become. Holding it in my hands… maybe it'd be a reminder of why I need to keep pushing forward. Or maybe it's just guilt. Either way, I grab it and shove it into my bag before I can overthink it.

I then headed downstairs to the kitchen. "Good morning," I say to Hanako and my mother, grabbing a piece of bread before I throw myself out the door and onto my bike, making my way to school. With the diary in the bag I wonder if today will be any different

When I reach school, I park my bicycle in the designated area, secure it, and make my way toward my classroom on the second floor.

As I walk through the crowded corridors, I keep my head down, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to be noticed.

When I finally get to my classroom, I quietly slip into my seat and rest my head on the desk, drenched in my own thoughts. Should I search for Miyu to return her diary? Or should I just leave it alone?

The decision felt monumental. Seeing her again feels like confronting my own shame head-on, and I'm not sure if I have the strength for that. How would she react? Would she be scared? Surprised? Would she see me as the bully I used to be, or could she see the person I was trying to change into?

I had a thousand questions swirling in my mind, each one getting more stark then the last. I couldn't help but remember how we used to be friends; how we would laugh and share stories before everything went wrong. Back then, we were just kids, and I was someone she could trust. But somewhere along the line, I got lost in the wrong crowd: I was drawned by those who saw strength in cruelty.

I sighed, the weight of those memories pressing down on me. The first time I had picked on her felt like a joke, a misguided attempt to fit in, but it spiralled quickly into something I couldn't control. I became part of that group that thrived on tearing others down, and I went along with it, convincing myself that I was just playing along. It was easier then standing up for what was right.

But with every taunt, every laugh at her expense, I could feel a piece of myself slipping away. I pushed away the guilt, buried it deep inside, all while I pretended to be untouchable. I thought I was being strong, but really I was just a damn coward, hiding behind my friend's laughter while crushing someone else's spirit.

The uncertainty gnaws at me, and it scares me too. Facing Miyu isn't just about returning a diary-it's about facing the part of myself I don't want to see, the part that had hurt someone who once meant so much to me.

I straighten up, taking a deep breath as I tried to clear my mind. No matter how much I wanted to avoid the past, it was inevitable, after all it was a part of me, and I need to face it if I ever hoped to make things right.

While I was lost in my thoughts, I barely notice that my classmate, Kazuki, has been calling my name the entire time. It isn't until now that I snapped back to reality, realizing he's standing right in front of me.

"You good, man?" He asks, as his voice pulling me from my fog.

I quickly nod, trying to shake off my distraction. "Yeah, I'm alright. Sorry, I was just daydreaming. I didn't even notice you."

He smiles, waving it off casually. "No worries. Have you finished the homework for today?"

"Yeah, I finished my homework," I responded, trying to sound casual.

"Cool, may I have it?" Kazuki asks, a friendly grin on his face.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I hand it over, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment.

As he glances through the pages, I wonder if he can sense my distraction. Did he know I wasn't really present?

"Thanks, man. You saved me," he says, flashing a grateful smile before heading to his seat.

I watch him walk away, the brief connection leaving me feeling oddly hollow. I don't have anyone else to talk to, and that thought just keeps eating away at me.

When the teacher enters, I snap back to reality, forcing myself to focus on the lesson. But thoughts of Miyu keep intruding. Would she even want to see me? The idea of facing her fills me with dread, yet it feels inevitable.

As the class drags on, I struggle to concentrate, my mind racing with what I needed to do. The bell rings, I gather my things, and felt an urgency bubbling within me. I knew I have to find Miyu today.

But where do I even start looking for her? Maybe the diary could hold some clues? But I haven't read it yet, and it feels wrong to invade her privacy like that again. Besides, after she transferred schools, its been nearly impossible to track her down.

One day Miyu just stopped coming to class, and later on, I found out she had transferred schools. It was sudden and also odd, it took me a while to realize it was because of me... because of everything I had done.

Now, I could either dive into her diary to find her or rely on my memories to track her down. Asking around isn't an option I want to consider.

"Ahh damn it", I exclaim. "I can't really decide. I guess I'll just decide when school is over."

As the final bell rings, I push through the crowd, trying to shake off the day's heaviness. I hop on my bike and pedal to work, my thoughts racing with what I might face at work. Would I see anyone I knew? What if I had to confront the past head-on?

Arriving at the café, I'm hit by the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods, a small comfort amidst the chaos in my mind. I greet my coworkers with a nod, but I can feel the weight of my thoughts pressing down as I settle into my routine.

"Hey, Taro, you good?" Yuki asks, her eyes searching mine.

"Just a lot on my mind," I reply, forcing a smile. I pour a steaming cup of coffee, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Each time the bell jingles above the door, a spark of anxiety flickers in my chest. What if I ran into someone who knew about my past? What if my guilt spilled over, threatening to consume me? But as I work, moments of doubt creeped in, whispering reminders of my mistakes.

I catch myself glancing toward the entrance, wondering if today would be different. Would I have to face the shame of my actions, or would I find a glimmer of hope instead?

As I settle into the sounds of the café, the familiar clinks of espresso machines and the chatter fill the air. I take orders, serve customers, and try to immerse myself in the moment, but the thoughts of what lies ahead, lingers in the background.

Around mid-afternoon, the café begins to fill with a mix of customers, but my heart races when the bell above the door jingles. I look up, and there she is-Miyu, standing by herself. She scans the menu, looking a bit lost but also determined.

I can't believe it. My stomach twists with a mix of anxiety and hope. What would I even say? Would she recognize me? Would she hate me?

Finally, she steps up to the counter. "Hi, can I get a mocha, please?" Her voice is soft, yet it carries an echo of familiarity.

"Sure," I say, trying to keep my tone steady. As I prepare her drink, I think about how this could be my chance to say something-anything-but the words tangle in my throat.

I hand her the mocha, our fingers brushing for a brief moment. It sends a jolt through me. "Here you go," I say, my heart pounding.

"Thanks!" she smiles, but there's a flicker of confusion in her eyes as she looks at me. I can see her trying to identify me, but my hat obscured most of my face.

"Um... Miyu?" I find myself asking before I can think it through.

"Yeah?" she replies, tilting her head slightly, a hint of recognition mixed with uncertainty in her expression.

"I-I just wanted to say..." My mind races, searching for the right words, but the moment hangs in the air, heavy and unyielding.

Before I can finish, the café buzzes with new customers, pulling her attention away. She nods, a polite smile on her lips, but I can see her brows furrow in confusion as she tries to figure out why I seem familiar. "Wait, do I know you from somewhere?"

I feel a rush of panic as she turns to leave. "It's Taro," I blurt, but the words come too late.

As I walked out, the disappointment of missed opportunities settled over me. I had seen her, but I hadn't said what I needed to say. Would I ever find the courage to reach out again?

Just then, Yuki leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face. "You looked like you were about to explode there. Who was that?"

I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts. "Just somebody I used to know."

Yuki raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "She provoked quite the reaction from you. Do you want to talk about it?"

I hesitated, the knot in my stomach tightening. "Not really. It's complicated."

She nodded, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "Got it. Just remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here if you need to vent."

"Thanks, Yuki," I said, grateful for her support, even if I wasn't ready to share everything yet. Yuki raised an eyebrow as she wiped down the counter. "so, do You know her or something?" she asked, glancing toward the door where Miyu had just left.

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. "Huh? No... I mean just looked familiar, that's all." I pulled the hat lower over my eyes, trying to act casual.

Yuki didn't buy it, but she shrugged, not pushing further. "Alright, man. Anyway, table four needs refills."

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. I grabbed the tray and went to handle my tasks, but Miyu still lingered in the back of my mind. That brief moment-we didn't even talk, but something about seeing her felt like a punch in the gut. She looked different. Older. Maybe a bit more tired, but still... Miyu.

But how could she not recognize me? The hat probably concealed my face, but still... Maybe it was for the best. If she had known it was me, things would've gotten rather messy. I wasn't ready for that conversation, I wasn't ready to face what happened between us. Not yet.

By the time my shift ended, the café was quieter, the rush of customers fading into the evening. As I finished cleaning up, Yuki nudged me.

"You've been out of it today, dude. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Just a lot on my mind."

Yuki smirked. "You sure it's not that girl?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on I don't even know her."

"Right," Yuki said, but the way she dragged the word made it clear she didn't believe a word of it.

As I left the café and headed home, I couldn't help but wonder-would Miyu come back? And if she did, what would I even say?

As I stepped out of the café, I was surprised to hear footsteps behind me. I turned to see Yuki catching up, her ponytail bouncing as she walked.

"Hey, wait up!" she called, a playful smile on her face.

I slowed my pace, curious. "What are you doing? I thought you were going to hang out with your friends tonight."

She shrugged, falling into step beside me. "Nah, they all had plans, and I figured I'd see what you're up to. Plus, I wanted to make sure you're doing okay after that whole 'Miyu' situation."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, trying to sound casual, but the knot in my stomach tightened again at the mention of her name.

Yuki raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing my discomfort. "You sure? You looked a little freaked out back there."

"I just... I wasn't expecting to see her," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the ground as we walked. "It was a lot."

"Totally get it," she said. "It's always weird running into someone from your past. Do you think she'll come back?"

I sighed, glancing up at the fading sky. "I don't know. I hope so, but I'm not sure what I'd even say. I barely got two words out before she left."

"Yeah, but you can't let that stop you. You can always just be friendly. It doesn't have to be this big thing," she said, her voice light.

"Easier said than done," I muttered. "What if she remembers everything?"

"Then just be yourself! It's not like she's going to bite your head off," Yuki said, nudging me with her elbow. "Look, it's not like you two were best friends. Just talk to her like you would anyone else."

Her words were encouraging, but a part of me still hesitated. "What if it's awkward? What if she hates me?"

"Then that's on her," Yuki replied firmly. "You can't control how she feels. Just give it a shot."

We walked in silence for a moment, and I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe she was right.

"Thanks, Yuki," I said, breaking the silence. "I appreciate you being here for me."

"Always," she smiled, nudging me again playfully. "Now, let's go get some ramen or something. You can't dwell on past crushes on an empty stomach."

I chuckled, the tension in my chest easing slightly. "Yeah, I could go for some ramen."

As we continued down the street, I felt a little lighter. Yuki didn't know the full story, but her support meant a lot. Maybe I could find a way to talk to Miyu again. After all, I had a friend by my side, ready to back me up no matter what.

As we continued down the street, the familiar sights of our neighborhood began to soothe my frayed nerves. The glow of shop signs and the distant laughter of other customers filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop against the chaos in my mind.

"So, how's school going besides the whole Miyu thing?" Yuki asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

I shrugged, contemplating how to sum up the mix of anxiety and boredom that often accompanied my days. "It's fine, I guess. Just the usual stress. Classes, homework, trying to figure out what to do after graduation..."

Yuki nodded, her expression sympathetic. "I get that. It can feel overwhelming sometimes. But you know, there are still so many options. You've got time to figure it out."

"Yeah, I suppose," I said, trying to shake off the weight of uncertainty. "I just wish things could be simpler."

"Join the club," she replied with a laugh. "But seriously, you're not alone in feeling that way. Everyone's figuring things out, even if they act like they have it all together."

We turned a corner, and the delicious aroma of ramen wafted through the air, making my stomach growl. "Speaking of which, let's focus on the here and now. Ramen first, existential crises later," Yuki said, grinning.

Once we stepped into the cozy little ramen shop, the atmosphere felt warm and inviting. The sounds of bubbling broth and sizzling ingredients filled the air. We found a small table by the window and settled in, menus in hand.

"Alright, what's your go-to order?" Yuki asked, her eyes scanning the options.

"Definitely the tonkotsu ramen," I replied, my mouth watering at the thought. "How about you?"

"Same! Can't resist a good bowl of rich broth," she said with a smile. We placed our orders, and while we waited, the conversation shifted to lighter topics-school events, funny anecdotes from our classmates, and even a bit of gossip about teachers.

But in the back of my mind, Miyu lingered like a shadow. I wondered if she was okay, what her life was like now. Did she think about the past as much as I did? I shook my head slightly, trying to refocus on Yuki's laughter and the warmth of the ramen shop around us.

When our ramen arrived, it was a feast for the senses. The steam curled up in the air, and the rich aroma made my mouth water. We dug in, slurping noodles and sharing bites as we chatted.

"You know," Yuki said between mouthfuls, "you should really think about talking to Miyu again. Even if it's just to clear the air."

"I know," I replied, feeling the knot tighten in my stomach again. "But what if she doesn't want to? Or what if she doesn't even remember me?"

"Then at least you'll have tried. You won't be left wondering what if," she said, her eyes sincere. "And who knows? Maybe you'll both surprise each other."

I took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the ramen settle in. "You're right. I need to stop overthinking it."

"Exactly! And if it goes sideways, we can always drown our sorrows in more ramen," she joked, her playful smile easing my tension.

As we finished our meal, I felt lighter than I had in days. Yuki's support was grounding, and maybe, just maybe, I could muster the courage to reach out to Miyu again. After all, I had a friend by my side, ready to back me up no matter what.

After we finished off the last of our ramen, Yuki leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face. "That hit the spot! I needed that."

"Yeah, Me too," I agreed, feeling the warmth from the food settle in my stomach. "Thanks for coming out with me. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime!" she said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Just don't be a stranger, okay? I'll check in on you after school tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'll try to keep you updated," I replied, feeling a bit more hopeful than before. We stood up, gathering our things and heading toward the door.

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapped around us, a refreshing change from the warmth of the café. The streetlights flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the pavement.

"Well, this is where we part ways," Yuki said, glancing at her watch. "I've got to head home and finish some homework."

"Same here," I said, feeling the weight of assignments looming over me. "Thanks again for tonight. You really helped."

"Glad to hear it! Just remember, if you need to talk about anything, I'm here," she said, giving me a reassuring smile.

I nodded, grateful for her support. "I will. See you tomorrow!"

"See ya!" she called as we both turned to go our separate ways. I watched her walk down the street, her ponytail swaying with each step.

Once I was alone, I took a deep breath and began my walk home. The familiar sights of the neighborhood surrounded me-the same houses, the same trees lining the street. Yet tonight, everything felt different. The conversation with Yuki echoed in my mind, a blend of hope and anxiety swirling together.

As I walked, I replayed my interaction with Miyu over and over, each time analyzing what I could have said differently. Did she really look confused when she saw me? Had she even recognized me at all? I couldn't shake the feeling that I had let an opportunity slip through my fingers.

By the time I reached my front door, the weight of the day settled in. I stepped inside and was greeted by the familiar scent of home. The living room was cozy, with soft light spilling from a lamp in the corner. I dropped my bag by the door and called out, "Hanako! I'm home!"

"In the kitchen!" my sister's voice shouted back. I headed toward the sound, finding her at the counter, her face focused on a colorful drawing she was working on.

"Hey, how was your day?" she asked without looking up, her pencil moving swiftly across the paper.

"It was... interesting," I replied, leaning against the counter.

"Oh really? What happened?" Hanako asked, finally looking up with curiosity.

"Just some stuff at school," I said, keeping it vague. I didn't want to dive into the details just yet.

"That's cool! Did you make any new friends?" she pressed, her eyes lighting up.

"Not really. Just working on some things," I said, avoiding the topic.

"Just be yourself," she said matter-of-factly. "If they're nice, it'll work out."

"Yeah, I guess," I replied, contemplating her words. Maybe she was right. I just needed to be honest and take a chance.

"Wanna help me with this?" Hanako asked, turning the drawing toward me. "I'm trying to figure out what color to make the sky."

"Sure," I said, stepping closer to examine her work. For a moment, the weight of my thoughts lifted, replaced by the simplicity of my sister's art.

As we sat together, I couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to change. Tomorrow would bring new possibilities, and maybe, just maybe, I could find the courage to face Miyu again.

April 16th

The next day unfolded like any other. I shuffled through my classes, the routine deadening my mind. The thought of seeing Miyu again loomed over me, but when I arrived at the café, she was nowhere to be found. My heart sank a little; I'd hoped for another chance to talk, to somehow start mending what had been broken between us.

Work was busy that evening, and Yuki was in high spirits, teasing me about how I seemed to be in a daze. I shrugged it off, pouring coffee and taking orders while stealing glances at the door, half-expecting Miyu to walk in.

"Earth to Taro!" Yuki snapped her fingers in front of my face, breaking my concentration.

"Yeah?" I blinked, shaking myself out of my thoughts.

"You're thinking too hard about something," she said, a smirk on her face. "Spill it!"

"Just... school stuff," I lied, avoiding her probing eyes.

As the hours dragged on, I found myself more distracted than ever. After closing, I clocked out and headed to the hospital for my annual check-up. The familiar sterile smell hit me as I walked through the doors, and I felt a knot form in my stomach.

I waited in the lobby, flipping through a magazine to distract myself from the dull throb of anxiety. Just as I was about to give up and dive into my phone, I heard a familiar voice.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I can find the pediatric ward?"

I looked up, and there she was—Miyu. My heart stuttered. She stood there a few feet away, looking slightly lost, her face seemed pale but it still carried that calm gentle expression I remembered. I wanted to call out to her, but no words came out, as if my voicebox just froze.

"Miyu?" I finally managed to say, just loud enough for her to hear.

She turned toward me, and for a moment, surprise flickered in her eyes. "Taro? I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, I—uh, I have a check-up," I said, my mind racing. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm just visiting a friend," she replied, shifting her weight. "They've been in for a while now."

"Oh," I said, struggling to find my footing. "Umm, How are they? And… how have you been?"

"They're doing okay and I'm… I'm managing," she said, giving a smile hesitant smile while her gaze dropped for a moment. "Just… dealing with some stuff."

An awkward silence fell between us. My mind screamed at me to reach out, to say something, anything that would show her I was different now, but the memories of all the ways I had hurt her held me back. They were like chains, holding every word before they could escape

I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, and that I would do anything to undo the past. But standing there, I realized that words felt flimsy in the face of everything. And I stood awkwardly silent with her.

"I didn't recognize you the other day," she admitted, glancing back at me. "You look different."

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I've changed a lot since middle school."

Miyu nodded, her expression unreadable. "It's nice to see you again, I guess. Even if it's in a hospital."

"Right," I chuckled nervously, feeling the tension between us. "I hope your friend is doing okay."

"Thanks," she replied, her smile faint but genuine. "I should get going. It was… good to see you, Taro."

"Yeah, you too," I said, my heart pounding as she turned to leave.

As I watched her walk away, I felt a mix of relief and regret. I had wanted this chance to talk, but I still felt like I was fumbling through the moment. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for everything, but the words stuck in my throat.

After what felt like an eternity, my name was finally called. I stepped into the examination room, the sterile environment filled with the faint sounds of medical equipment. The doctor checked my vitals and asked a few routine questions. I tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting back to Miyu and our awkward encounter.

Once I was done, I walked out into the hospital corridor, the familiar hustle and bustle of nurses and patients surrounding me. I took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of anxiety and determination. I needed to find a way to make things right.

As I turned the corner, I spotted Miyu sitting in a quiet waiting area, her attention fixed on a small book in her lap. My heart raced. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach her.

"Miyu?" I said, stepping closer.

She looked up, surprised to see me again. "Oh, Taro! You're still here?"

"Yeah, just finished my check-up," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.

A moment of awkwardness stood between us before I finally forced myself to speak. "Actually, I wanted to return something to you." I said my voice little more then a murmur.

she looked at me curiously and I reached into my bag and pulled out her diary, the one I had kept all these years. The pages were worn, a bit frayed at the edges, but it was hers. It had always been hers.

Her eyes widened as I handed it to her. "My diary… why is it with you?"

"I found it a while back and couldn't bring myself to throw it away," I admitted, my cheeks flushing. "I thought you might want it back."

She took the diary from me, her fingers brushing against mine for just a second. I noticed a mixture of surprise and something else-something softer, but maybe painful too. "Thank you," she said her voice almost fragile. "I thought I'd never see it again."

"I never read it," I blurted out, feeling the need to clarify. "I found it after…everything. I thought it was wrong to go through it."

Miyu's expression shifted, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "That's… really nice of you. I appreciate it."

I clenched my fist. "I'm sorry for being a jerk back then," I continued, my heart pounding. "I know I can't undo the past, but I just… I'm really sorry for how I treated you."

Miyu didn't say anything at first. She just stood here, the diary cradled in her hands like it was a fragile piece of her past. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, but they weren't filled with anger or even pity. They were just tired.

After a long moment, her voice was soft, almost like a whisper. "I don't know if I can forgive you yet, Taro," she said, her gaze never leaving the diary. "But this…" She lifted the diary slightly, holding it between us like a bridge. "This is a start."

We fell into a comfortable silence, the air between us shifting as we both took a moment to reflect.

I waited a moment before asking, "Are you still drawing?" I asked, breaking the quiet. I remembered her sketches from when we were younger, the passion she had for art.

"Yeah, I am," she replied, her eyes lighting up a little. "I'm trying to get into a graphic design program after graduation."

"That sounds amazing," I said, genuinely impressed. "You always had a talent for it."

"Thanks," she said, her smile growing. "What about you? Still playing soccer?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm on the school team. It's been a lot of fun, but I'm trying to keep my grades up too."

"That's great," she said, her enthusiasm evident. "It sounds like you're doing well."

I Paused, feeling a weight in my chest. Her encouragement meant more to me then she probably realized. It felt strange, but great, to share these small pieces of my life with her again.

"Trying to," I replied, feeling lighter. "I really want to turn things around. Look, I know it's not easy to trust someone who hurt you, but I hope we can start all over again."

Miyu looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I think that would be nice. Just… give it time."

"Of course," I agreed, feeling a sense of hope blossoming between us. "I'd like that."

As the conversation flowed, I realized how much I wanted to keep talking to her.

"Hey, um… would it be okay if I got your contact info? I'd really like to stay in touch, especially since we're both trying to figure things out."

Miyu hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Sure! That sounds good."

She pulled out her phone and shared her number with me.

"Thanks," I said, feeling a rush of excitement. "I'll text you so you have mine too."

"Looking forward to it," she replied, her smile genuine.

As we continued to talk, I felt like the past was slowly being replaced by something new and hopeful. Maybe this time, I could be the friend she deserved.

After exchanging contact information, we spent a few more minutes chatting, easing into a more comfortable rhythm. We shared laughs about school and exchanged stories about our friends, each moment gradually building a bridge over the past.

As we wrapped up our conversation, I felt a surge of hope. "It was really nice to see you, Miyu." I almost regretted the next words that left my mouth, but it was the truth. I've missed having you around,"

Miyu looked at me, her expression softening. "I've missed it too. It feels good to talk to you again."

With a promise to text her later, I reluctantly walked away, feeling lighter than I had in a long time. I couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was a turning point.

Back home, I found myself checking my phone every few minutes, feeling eager to send Miyu a message. I would type out a message, erase it and then start over again, wondering if it sounded right or if I should wait a little longer. I finally settled on a simple message and send it.

Taro: Hey! It was great seeing you. Could we chat again soon?

Afterwards, I set my phone down and waited. Minutes felt like hours as I waited, but finally, my phone buzzed. It was Miyu.

Miyu: Definitely! I'd like that.

I was encouraged by her response, I spent the rest of the evening thinking about what I could do to show her I was serious about wanting to rebuild our friendship. I decided I would invite her to join me at the café where I worked the next weekend.