Just when it seemed nothing could come between them, a single phone call changed everything. Aimi stood frozen in the hallway of their home, the words echoing in her mind: her father in Tokyo had suffered a severe stroke, and he needed her. It wasn't a choice—it was her responsibility, one she could never ignore. The thought of leaving Asahikawa and the life she had built with Raito tore at her heart, but she knew what she had to do.
They met later that evening at the shrine, the same place where they had often sought guidance during difficult times. The cool autumn breeze rustled through the trees, scattering golden and crimson leaves at their feet. Aimi's face was pale, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, and her eyes were shadowed with uncertainty. "I don't know how long I'll be gone," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The tremble in her tone betrayed the fear she tried to hide.
Raito's heart clenched, the thought of losing her—even for a little while—almost too much to bear. But he met her gaze, his own pain carefully masked by a look of quiet resolve. "I understand," he said softly, though his voice wavered. "Your father needs you. And I'll be here… waiting for you, no matter how long it takes."
The words were meant to reassure her, but they felt like a fragile promise, one carried on the wind. Together, they approached the small Shinto shrine, its weathered wooden frame standing solemnly amidst the fiery hues of autumn. They knelt side by side, their heads bowed as they offered a silent prayer to the gods. Raito prayed for strength—for both of them—to endure the days ahead, while Aimi's prayer was simpler: that her father would recover and that she might one day return to the life she had come to cherish.
Before they left, Aimi spotted a lone maple leaf clinging to a low-hanging branch. It was a deep crimson, its edges curled and tinged with the passage of time. She plucked it gently, her fingers trembling as she closed her eyes and made a wish. As the leaf slipped from her grasp, carried away on the wind, her tears finally fell, each one a reflection of the sorrow she felt at leaving behind the life and the love she had found in Asahikawa.
Raito watched her, his chest heavy with the weight of their impending separation. He reached out, his hand brushing hers in a silent gesture of comfort. "We'll get through this," he said, his voice steady despite the ache in his heart. "We always do."
And as they walked away from the shrine, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows across the path, they held onto that fragile hope—that no matter the distance or time, their love would endure.