CH13 Saying Goodbye was Never Easy

Aya sat comfortably on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her as she scrolled through a magazine that was more for show than anything else. Her eyes flicked toward me as I rummaged through the fridge, searching for something to snack on.

"Hey, can we go to the fireworks festival later?" she asked, her voice filled with a hint of excitement.

I glanced over my shoulder, surprised at the suggestion. "Oh? Sure?" I replied, not having expected her to bring it up.

"Yeah!" She sat up straighter, a spark of something—nostalgia, perhaps—lighting up her eyes. "I remember something. There's this place near the festival, tucked away from the crowds. No people. But the view is amazing—you can see the fireworks up close, like they're right above you." She smiled, as if recalling an old memory.

I straightened up from my spot at the fridge, now curious. "Oh, that's nice. I suppose we can go to your little hidden spot then?" I said, trying to picture the scene she was describing.

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it’s perfect. No one else will be there, just us. We can enjoy

the fireworks without all the noise and people."

I couldn’t help but smile at her excitement. It wasn’t often that Aya remembered something

from her past, so I knew this place must have meant something to her.

"Alright, then. Fireworks it is," I said, closing the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. "What time does it start?"

"Around sunset. We should leave before it gets too crowded." She stood up, stretching. "I think you'll love it."

The festival was a few train stations away from my flat, held at the bay where the fireworks would be launched from ships on the water. The trains were surprisingly not too crowded, which was a relief. I found a seat easily, and Aya, even though she didn’t need one, sat beside me, her eyes wandering to the scenery outside. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow over the city. Aya looked out the window, admiring the view, her face soft in the fading light.

"Almost there," I said, glancing at her. She nodded with a quiet smile, clearly excited about the night ahead.

When we arrived at the festival, we still had about thirty minutes before the fireworks display. The atmosphere buzzed with energy. Lanterns were strung across the streets, and the colorful stalls lit up with people crowding around, buying snacks or playing games. The sound of children laughing and vendors calling out filled the air.

"Let’s take a look around," Aya suggested, already drifting toward a nearby snack stand.

We wandered through the rows of stalls, stopping occasionally to admire the handmade trinkets or to try out some of the food. I bought some takoyaki and passed a skewer to Aya, who eagerly reached for it, though the food would vanish the second it touched her hands.

She pouted. "Not fair," she muttered, crossing her arms as I took a bite, smirking.

"You know, I could always eat for you," I teased, offering her a bite she couldn’t take.

"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in," she said with mock frustration but smiled at the playful banter.

We played some of the festival games too. Aya’s excitement was infectious as she cheered me on in a ring toss game, though I barely managed to land any. "You’re hopeless," she teased, standing beside me as I tried to throw a final ring.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied, rolling my eyes but smiling at her enthusiasm.

Though Aya couldn’t physically participate, she would lean close, giving playful advice or pretending to join in, her face lighting up with every attempt, every victory or defeat. It was moments like these that made everything feel normal—like we were just two people enjoying a festival together.

As the sky deepened into twilight, Aya tugged at my sleeve. "It’s almost time. Let’s head to that

spot I told you about."

I nodded, tossing the rest of our snacks into the trash. "Lead the way."

The path to the secret spot Aya remembered was a little ways out from the festival, taking us through a forested area that grew darker with each step. The branches overhead swayed in the night breeze, casting long shadows on the ground. It was quiet—almost too quiet. I pushed aside overgrown branches and shrubs, occasionally questioning whether it was safe to walk through here at all.

“You sure about this place?” I asked, trying to make out the path in the dim light.

“Trust me,” Aya replied with a soft laugh. “It’s just up ahead.”

After what felt like a small battle with nature, we emerged from the dense thicket and stepped into a clearing. My breath caught in my throat. "Wow," I whispered.

We had made it to the top of a small hill overlooking the bay. Below, the lights from the festival glittered, casting reflections on the water. The grass here was neatly trimmed, like it was meant for picnics, and small post lights lined the paved walkway. It was serene, like a hidden oasis where the chaos of the festival was just a distant hum.

“It’s amazing,” I said, still taking in the view.

Aya walked toward the railings at the edge, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “I told you it’d be worth it.”

“Yeah… I’m surprised there’s no one else here.”

“The park is closed to the public,” she said casually. “But it’s not like rules matter much to me anymore.”

I smiled faintly at her comment and turned my eyes to the sky. It was a clear night, and stars dotted the darkness like a thousand distant lights. Aya stayed quiet for a while, staring up at the vast expanse above us.

“The sky is beautiful tonight. So full of stars,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. “Maybe… I could be one of them, if I’m gone. You know, like people say.”

Her words cut through the peaceful night, making my chest tighten. I didn’t want to think about

her being gone, but the thought lingered between us, unspoken.

“Maybe,” I replied, my voice low. “Who knows?”

Aya stayed still, her gaze never leaving the sky. “Thank you,” she said, almost a whisper. I looked at her, confused. “Huh? What for? I haven’t done anything.”

She turned slightly toward me, her eyes still glimmering under the stars. “You’ve done more for me than you realize. You helped me remember who I was… you gave me back my memories, my identity, my everything. You even taught me how to have fun again—playing games,

enjoying the little things. You’ve given me freedom, even though we’re bound together.” My throat tightened. “Aya…”

“If I were alive, I think I’d have fallen for you… even harder,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “You’re kind, and you care about people. You’re someone I’d love to be with, but… it’s too bad, right? I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again.”

Her words were like a punch to the gut. "What? See each other again? What do you mean?"

Before she could answer, the first firework exploded in the sky with a loud boom, painting the night in bright, shimmering colors. My eyes flickered toward the burst of light, but I quickly turned back to Aya. The fireworks illuminated her face, but what caught my attention was the tear that rolled down her cheek.

She turned to face me fully, her eyes glistening as she smiled—the brightest, most beautiful smile I had ever seen. But it was a smile laced with sadness. My heart sank as I realized what was happening. I knew, deep down, that this moment was different.

“I guess… this is goodbye,” she said softly. “I love you.”

夢ならば覚めないで夢ならば覚めないであなたと過ごした時永遠の星となる

If it's all a dream, don't wake me up If it's all a dream, don't wake me up The time I spent with you

Shall become a star, shining eternally

ほら!

あなたにとって大事な人ほどすぐそばにいるの

ただ!

あなたにだけ, 届いて欲しい響け恋の歌

ほら!

あなたにとって大事な人ほどすぐそばにいるの

ただ!

あなたにだけ届いて欲しい響け恋の歌

Hey, the person who is important to you, is right by your side They just want it to reach you, resound, O song of love

Hey, the person who is important to you, is right by your side They just want it to reach you, resound, O song of love

Hey, Hey, Hey

Resound, O song of love

Chiisana koi no uta by Mongol800

The sky lit up again with another deafening boom, but I barely heard it. My entire world felt like it had stopped. Aya… she was fading right in front of me, her form becoming translucent as the light from the fireworks reflected in her tears.

And then, just like that—she was gone.

I stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space where she had been. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The grief was overwhelming, suffocating.

“I love you too,” I whispered into the night, but it was too late. The words I couldn’t say to her when she was here… they hung in the air, unanswered.

The fireworks continued, lighting up the sky in vibrant colors, but to me, everything felt dark. Empty. The one person who had become my everything had disappeared, leaving me alone with the memories we had made.

I woke up to the warm sunrays gently touching my cheek through the small slit in the curtain. The soft, golden light filtered through, casting a familiar glow on the ceiling. I stared at it for a moment, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness in my chest.

My eyes felt sore and damp, as if I had been crying. I couldn't recall why. Maybe it was a lingering effect of a nightmare, though I couldn't remember the details. I had a vague recollection of going to a festival last night, but the memories were fuzzy. How did I get home? Did I drink too much?

Shaking off the confusion, I stood up and pulled the curtain wide open. The sunlight streamed into the room, dispelling some of the gloom. I glanced at the clock; it was time to get ready for work.

I went through my morning routine mechanically, my mind still partially wrapped in a fog. As I got dressed and prepared breakfast, the weight of the inexplicable sadness lingered. It was as if there was a part of me that was missing, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

The memory of the festival teased the edges of my consciousness, a fragmented image of fireworks lighting up the night sky. I pushed it away, focusing instead on the mundane tasks of preparing for the day.

I grabbed my bag and headed out, trying to shake off the lingering sense of unease. The walk to the convenience store was routine, but the heaviness in my heart made everything seem a bit more distant. I couldn't shake the feeling that something important was just out of reach, a

memory I couldn’t grasp.

I entered the convenience store and immediately noticed Yumi sitting in a chair, flipping through a fashion magazine. She looked relaxed, almost lost in the glossy pages.

"Good morning, Yumi," I said, surprising even myself with how naturally the words came out. I wasn’t usually the one to initiate conversations, but lately, something had shifted. I wondered to myself, When did I start to change?

She glanced up, smiling as she greeted me back. "Oh! Good morning!" She tucked the magazine under her arm and turned her full attention to me as I walked past her toward the back of the store. But before I could get far, she called out.

"Ah! Wait, anyway, look at this!" Yumi handed me a pamphlet, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. I took it and glanced at the cover: Course Program for Undergraduate and Dropout Students. "Oh," I nodded, processing the contents.

"See, I’ve been thinking," she continued, her voice bubbling with excitement, "why don’t you

use your free time to continue your studies?"

"Huh? Continue my studies?" I muttered to myself, the words feeling foreign. I had no recollection of telling Yumi I had dropped out of college. So how did she know? My mind raced as I stared at the pamphlet, confusion settling in.

"Wait... did I ever tell you that I dropped out of college?" I asked cautiously.

Yumi looked momentarily flustered but quickly recovered. "Ah, no. Actually, I... well, I searched for you on the internet, trying to find your social media accounts, but I couldn’t find anything. And then... I stumbled across an article, and, well, I saw your name," she explained, her voice soft but steady.

Her words caught me off guard, but strangely, I didn’t feel as surprised as I thought I would. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I guess I had been preparing for something like this to happen.

"So, the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?" I said with a weak chuckle, trying to play it off, but I

could feel the weight of my past creeping back into the present.

Yumi’s face scrunched up with concern, and she shook her head. "I’m sorry, that was awful of

them, you know!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with frustration on my behalf.

I blinked. This wasn’t the reaction I had expected. I thought she’d be disgusted, that she’d want nothing to do with me now that she knew. That was how it usually went, right? People didn’t stick around once they learned the truth.

"Uhm... it’s okay," I began awkwardly. "If you don’t want to talk to me anymore or... I don’t know, keep being acquainted because of my past, I’d understand. I wouldn’t hold it against you."

Yumi stared at me, clearly puzzled. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice softening.

I looked down, unsure how to respond. "I just thought... now that you know, maybe you'd see me differently."

She crossed her arms, tilting her head with a sigh. "Seriously? You think that’s how I am? Just because I know about your past doesn’t mean I’m going to run away. Everyone has something they regret or something they’re ashamed of."

Her words hit me unexpectedly. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t even judging me.

"Your past won’t matter to me, you know," Yumi said, her voice soft yet steady. "What matters now is what kind of person you are in the present. And... and I love that person..." Her words trailed off, barely audible as her face flushed with embarrassment.

I stood there, speechless for a moment, completely caught off guard. "Oh... I—" I stammered, trying to find the right words to respond, but my mind was spinning. Finally, I managed a simple, "Thanks."

Yumi quickly shifted the mood, her usual cheerfulness returning. "Anyway! Just consider this, okay? I’ll help you if you need it!" she said, nudging me playfully and pointing back at the pamphlet.

I glanced down at the paper in my hands, the bold letters staring back at me. Part of me still felt unsure, but Yumi's encouragement... it did something. It gave me hope, even if I didn’t fully understand why.

"Okay," I nodded, smiling faintly. "I’ll take it into consideration. I promise."

Yumi beamed at my words, her eyes lighting up with relief. "Good! That’s all I wanted to hear,"

she said, returning to her seat and resuming her magazine reading.

As I turned around to head to the cash register, the back door slammed open with a loud thud, startling both Yumi and me.

"Hey! Where is he?" It was Kenjie, his voice booming through the quiet store. Yumi looked bewildered, caught off guard by his sudden entrance. I was just as surprised, wondering what had gotten into him.

"Oh! There you are!" Kenjie exclaimed, spotting me immediately. He marched over, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder as if we were longtime comrades.

"Uh... What now?" I asked, sensing that this was going to be one of those moments where Kenjie wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Come on, man. Let’s square this outside," he said with an unusually serious tone, steering me

towards the exit.

Before I could respond, we were already walking out to the parking area, where a slight breeze greeted us. The sun was beating down, and we both perched on the metal railings, the heat radiating off them.

"Uh..." I started, unsure what this was all about.

Kenjie spun around, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "What the hell, man?" he began, his voice low but intense. "Why? Why did you reject Yumi?"

Ah, so this was what it was all about. I sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of his question hanging in the air.

"I..." I hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I’m sorry, but I’m just not ready for a

relationship right now. I’ve got a lot of stuff to work on, especially with my social skills. I don’t want to hurt Yumi, and I definitely don’t want to give her false hope. She deserves better than that."

Kenjie’s face softened slightly as he listened. He exhaled and sat back down on the railing,

shaking his head.

"Man, that’s... rough," he said, running a hand through his hair. "But no hard feelings if I try, yeah? I’m not giving up on her. Yumi’s special."

I gave a small nod, understanding where he was coming from. "I figured as much," I said. "Good luck."

"Thanks, man," Kenjie said, giving me a friendly punch on the arm. "Come on, let’s head back

inside."

As we made our way back to the store, we noticed Yumi standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"So, what was that all about?" she asked, her voice sharp as she eyed the two of us.

Kenjie, quick to defuse the tension, grinned. "Nah, just boys’ talk. No girls allowed," he quipped,

brushing it off with a wink.

Yumi wasn’t convinced, her gaze darting between the two of us. But after a moment, she let

out a sigh and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever you say."

As she turned and went back to her seat, I caught Kenjie giving me a knowing look. I nodded back, silently thanking him for not making things more complicated than they already were.

The day passed slowly, and I found myself lying on my bed, staring blankly at the pamphlet Yumi had given me. The corners of the paper were slightly curled from being handled so many times. My thoughts ran in circles, the questions repeating themselves like a broken record.

"Isn't it too late for me to continue my studies?"

I sighed, flipping the pamphlet over in my hands. The words felt heavy as if they were mocking me. It had been so long since I left school. The idea of stepping back into that world, surrounded by people younger than me, felt intimidating. Would I even fit in anymore? Could I catch up after all these years?

"Well, I don’t want to be like this for the rest of my life."

The truth hit harder than I expected. I was stuck in a routine, working the same job, living the

same life day after day. It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t enough either. I couldn’t keep drifting like this, afraid of change, afraid of growth. People should evolve, right? And that should include me too.

But then doubt crept in. "Do I have what it takes to finish my studies alone?"

I sat up, running a hand through my hair. I had already dropped out once, and the reasons I did hadn’t disappeared. I wasn’t the most social guy. I wasn’t confident in my abilities. Was I just setting myself up for another failure? What if I tried again and fell flat on my face? Could I handle that disappointment a second time?

"Yumi said she’d help me... but to what extent?"

The thought of Yumi helping was both comforting and unsettling. She was kind, always pushing me to be better. But after everything, especially after what happened between us, could I really

lean on her for support? She said my past didn’t matter to her, but I still felt like a burden. Besides, how much could she really help? I’d have to do most of the work myself.

"Am I ready to try again?"

I lay back down, staring at the ceiling now. The weight of the decision pressed against my chest. Trying again meant opening up to failure. It meant risking everything, but it also meant the possibility of change. The possibility of becoming someone better, someone more than I was now.

I glanced at the pamphlet one more time before setting it on the nightstand. The question lingered in the air, unanswered. But for the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of something inside me—hope.

Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to give it another shot.

I stood up from the bed, feeling a sense of resolve as I walked into the living room to grab my phone. I needed to tell Yumi that I had made up my mind—I was going to give my studies another shot. It wasn’t an easy decision, but her encouragement had struck a chord, and I knew deep down that I had to move forward.

But as I reached for my phone on the coffee table, something else caught my eye. Sitting on the sofa was a small plushie, slumped over as if waiting for someone to notice it. The sight of it made me stop in my tracks. An unexpected heaviness settled over me, and I found myself staring at it for a few long moments, confusion and sadness welling up inside me.

There was something about that plushie, something I couldn’t quite place. My heart tightened, as if I was on the verge of remembering something important, something that had slipped from my grasp.

I walked over to the sofa and picked it up, turning it over in my hands. The soft fabric felt familiar, and as I looked closer, flashes of a memory surfaced—dim, fleeting images of an amusement park, bright lights, and the sound of laughter. I held this plushie then, hadn’t I? I won it... but why did it feel so distant now?

"I remember this..." I muttered to myself. "I won this at the amusement park... but..."

The sadness grew heavier, pressing down on me. It wasn’t just because I went to the park alone—there was something else. Someone was missing from that memory, someone who had been there with me. But no matter how hard I tried to pull the memory forward, it was just out of reach, like a dream slipping away the moment you wake up.

I sat down on the sofa, still clutching the plushie, staring at it as if it held the answers to everything. Why did it hurt so much to look at this thing? Why did it feel like it was tied to something—or someone—important?

"Maybe I just don’t remember it right," I whispered, shaking my head, though deep down, I knew that wasn’t it. The emptiness in my chest didn’t come from going to the park alone. It came from the feeling that someone had been there, and now they were gone, leaving behind nothing but a hollow space in my heart.

But who? And why couldn’t I remember?

I set the plushie down gently, as if it were fragile. Grabbing my phone, I hesitated for a

moment, my thumb hovering over Yumi’s contact.

I dialed Yumi's number, feeling a slight twinge of nerves. The phone rang just a couple of times before her cheerful voice came through.

"Hello?" she said, her tone light as always.

"Hey, Yumi..." I started, pausing for a moment as I gathered my thoughts. The plushie still sat on the sofa next to me, and I absently glanced at it, feeling the strange sadness lingering in my chest. "Uh... I just wanted to say that I've made my decision. I'm going to grab the opportunity you handed me."

There was a beat of silence on the other end, and then I heard her voice perk up, filled with

excitement. "Really? This is great! Oh my gosh, I’m so proud of you! I’ll contact my senior right away and get everything set up! I’ll make sure you have all the materials and support you need!"

Her enthusiasm made me smile, even though the heavy feeling hadn’t entirely lifted. Still, I couldn’t deny that her energy was contagious. I felt a spark of excitement too—maybe this really was the change I needed.

"Yumi, thank you," I said, my voice more sincere than I had intended. "I think... I think this is the push I needed. I truly appreciate everything you've done for me."

She was quiet for a second, and then her voice softened. "You don’t need to thank me. I just want to see you happy, you know? I believe in you, so I’m really glad you’re taking this step."

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, feeling a little more grounded with her words. She always had this way of making things feel possible, even when I doubted myself. "I’ll try my

best, Yumi. I won’t let this chance slip by."

"You won’t," she replied confidently. "And you won’t be doing it alone either. I’ll be here,

helping you along the way."

Her words were comforting, but they also made the heaviness in my chest tug a little harder, reminding me of something I couldn’t place. I glanced at the plushie again, a faint memory flickering in the back of my mind before it faded once more. Whatever it was, it remained stubbornly out of reach.

"I... I appreciate that," I said quietly, pushing the strange feelings aside. "I’ll let you know once I’ve got everything ready."

"Take your time," Yumi responded, her usual cheer back in her voice. "Just call me if you need anything. Oh, and make sure to eat something! You always forget!"

I laughed a little, shaking my head. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll eat. I promise."

We said our goodbyes, and as I hung up the phone, I sat there for a moment, the plushie still sitting beside me. I had a new path ahead of me, one I hadn’t considered before today. But as excited as I was about the future, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was leaving something behind—something I’d forgotten. Or someone.