It was a quiet afternoon when Kaito's life was unexpectedly interrupted. He had just finished his homework and was lounging in his room, the soft hum of the outside world barely making it through his window. His phone sat idly on the desk, untouched, as Kaito flipped through a comic book, trying to distract himself from the unspoken emptiness that lingered after Hana's departure.
He had learned to live with the silence. To move through his days without her sharp remarks or her quiet presence. But the truth was, it wasn't easy. Each day seemed like an uphill climb, the weight of the absence heavier than anything he had ever felt before.
But today, something was different.
There was a knock at the door. Kaito, startled, glanced up from his book. He hadn't been expecting anyone. When he opened the door, a single envelope was sitting on the doorstep. It was plain, with no name or address, just a delicate stamp with a small image of a butterfly.
His heart skipped a beat.
For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the envelope as if it were some kind of message from the past. Could it be? Could it really be from Hana?
His hands trembled slightly as he picked it up, turned it over, and opened the flap. Inside, there was a single sheet of paper, neatly folded. The handwriting was familiar—smooth, elegant, and careful, just like Hana's.
He unfolded the paper and began to read.
Dear Kaito,
I'm writing this letter from a place that is both new and old to me. The city is big, full of unfamiliar streets and faces, but I'm trying to find my way. I hope this letter finds you well. I wish I could say I've been able to adjust, but truthfully, it's been harder than I thought.
Every day, I find myself thinking of the time we spent together. Those days seem to blur together now, like the colors on the mural we made. At the time, I didn't realize how much they would mean to me. But now, they are the only thing that keeps me going. I can still see the way the sun hit your hair when we sat in the park that day. I still hear the sound of your laugh echoing in my mind, like it was just yesterday.
I miss you more than I thought I would. I didn't know what to expect when I left, but it's been harder than I thought to let go. It's funny how someone can come into your life so suddenly, and in such a short time, leave such a lasting mark. I'm not sure if I'll ever fully understand it, but I'm glad I met you.
I know I didn't say goodbye the way I should have. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I couldn't find the words. I'm sorry for that. But please know that you were one of the most important parts of my time here, and I will carry those memories with me, no matter where I go.
I don't have a return address, not because I don't want to hear from you, but because I'm not sure I'm ready for anything more. But please, know that you are always in my heart, no matter the distance between us. Please take care of yourself, Kaito. Keep laughing. Keep drawing. And above all, keep being you.
With love and gratitude,
Hana
Kaito stared at the letter for a long time, his eyes blurring with unshed tears. He hadn't expected this. A part of him had feared that Hana would slip away, her memory fading as time passed, just like so many people before her. But this letter... this letter was different. It was a reminder that, even though she was miles away, she hadn't forgotten him.
Her words were bittersweet, wrapped in a kind of sadness that Kaito couldn't help but understand. She had left not because she wanted to, but because she had to. And even though the distance between them now seemed insurmountable, Hana had found a way to send him a piece of herself—something to hold onto when the days felt too long, when the loneliness crept in like a cold shadow.
Kaito felt a lump in his throat as he reread the letter, his fingers tracing over the ink, as if to make sure it was real. He wondered where she was, what she was doing. Was she smiling? Was she happy?
Despite the distance, despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing was clear: Hana hadn't left him behind.
And somehow, that was enough.
Kaito carefully folded the letter back into its envelope, pressing it against his chest for a moment, savoring the warmth it brought. He didn't know what to do with the feelings swirling inside of him—hope, sadness, love—but he knew one thing for sure: Hana was out there, and she was thinking of him.
And that made all the difference.
The rain outside had stopped, and the sun was setting, casting a soft, golden light across his room. Kaito stood up, walking over to his desk, and pulled out the sketchbook Hana had left behind. It was still there, waiting for him, filled with memories of their time together.
He opened it to the very last page, the one where Hana had drawn that cityscape—the city she had moved to. He took his pencil and added a small, simple detail—a tiny butterfly, flying between the buildings.
It wasn't much, but it felt right.
Kaito smiled to himself, feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful than he had in days.