Aoi's thoughts were a tangled mess of worry and frustration as she walked home that evening. Haruki hadn't answered her texts, hadn't shown up to school, hadn't given her any reason why he was suddenly slipping through her fingers like sand.
She told herself she wouldn't go to his house.
And then she found herself standing in front of his door.
Her fingers hovered over the doorbell. It wasn't too late to walk away. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe he just needed time.
But she knew better.
Taking a breath, she pressed the button. The chime echoed inside, followed by a long silence.
Then, slow footsteps. The door creaked open, and Haruki stood there, looking like he hadn't slept in days. His usual neat hair was a mess, and his eyes, once full of quiet sadness, were now just empty.
"Aoi?" His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in hours.
"You didn't come to school."
He blinked. "I didn't feel like it."
Aoi clenched her fists. "That's not a reason."
Haruki sighed and stepped aside. "Come in."
She hesitated. This felt different. Haruki never let people into his world—his real world. But today, he was opening the door.
The apartment was dimly lit, small, and eerily quiet. There were books stacked on the table, an unfinished cup of coffee on the counter, and a single notebook lying open on the floor. Aoi glanced at it, but before she could read the words, Haruki picked it up and shut it.
"Why are you here, Aoi?"
She turned to him, meeting his tired gaze. "Because I'm scared."
Haruki flinched. "Of what?"
"Of losing you."
Silence.
Then, a bitter laugh. "Aoi... you can't lose something you never had."
She felt something inside her crack. "That's not true. You're my friend. I care about you."
Haruki looked away. "You shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm already gone."
Aoi took a step closer. "You keep saying that, but you're still here."
Haruki closed his eyes, as if trying to block out her words. "Not for long."
The weight of his words sent a chill down her spine.
She grabbed his wrist, gripping it tightly. "Don't talk like that."
Haruki's lips curled into a sad smile. "Why? Does it scare you?"
"Yes," she whispered. "It does."
Haruki's smile faded. For a second, just a second, he looked like he wanted to stay. Like he wanted to believe her.
But then, he pulled away. "You should go home, Aoi."
She didn't want to. She wanted to stay. To fight. To break down every wall he had built.
But the look in his eyes told her he wouldn't let her. Not tonight.
So she stepped back. But before she left, she said, "I'll come back tomorrow."
Haruki didn't respond.
But he didn't tell her not to, either.
---
That night, Aoi couldn't sleep.
Because no matter how much she tried to ignore it, she knew—Haruki was slipping away.
And she didn't know how much time she had left.
---