(V4) Chapter 13: The River Finds Its Sea

The fire danced in the middle of the clearing, its embers curling into the night like it was sending wishes up above. The salty breeze carried laughter and the smell of grilled squid and yakitori, mixing with the faint strum of someone’s guitar.

Our schoolmates danced—silently, solemnly and some, romantically—moving around the fire. Their shadows stretched along the sand, alive and emotional, like we weren’t all growing older by the second.

Some just watched. Some followed their opposite genders, asking them to join.

But my eyes only saw her.

Ayase.

Lit by firelight, she looked unreal. Her skin glowed, soft and light as a winter snow mound. Her rose-pink hair shimmered below the moon, just barely catching the wind. There was something about her smile too—small, curious, like it didn’t belong here, like she didn’t belong in a world this loud and temporary.

She stood in the center of it all, surrounded by boys and girls all trying to pull her in.

“Just one dance, Ayase-chan!”

"But I can't dance..." she answered hesitantly.

“C’mon, the fire’s burning out—don’t waste this!”

One more male student fell to his knees. "Can you dance with me, Ayase-chan? I already mustered this courage long ago, and I'll say it, I like you so much!"

"Oi!" another male student groaned, clearly jealous. "That's unfair confessing out of nowhere! I like her more than you!"

Then another.

"I don't know how to dance too, come with me, and we'll just go with the flow!"

And the last. “It’s bon odori under the stars! That means something, doesn’t it?”

She tilted her head slightly. “What does it mean?”

One of them laughed. “It means…we’ll stay together. Forever.”

Ayase repeated it, almost like she was tasting the word. “Forever.”

And something in me broke.

I moved. Threw the crutches. Pain shot in my leg. I didn’t care.

I didn’t think, and stepped without hesitation.

My body just…knew. I knew that I had to be there. Beside her. Not because I deserved to be. But because I had to be.

I stepped through the ring of dancers, ignoring the stares, curses and shoves. I walked through them like they were just shadows—and I was water moving between stones.

Then I walked past her without looking, and stole her hand.

I dragged her to the open, despite her grip trembling. And it tightened. I knew it always belonged to me.

"Haru-san..."

"..."

No words. Just being myself.

The others stepped back. Some groaned. One even hissed under his breath. But she didn’t pull away.

Her eyes found mine.

And I said, “No one else gets to make promises of forever like that. Except me.”

The world…stopped. Just for a beat.

And then she smiled. Not the polite kind she gives everyone else. Not the blank, practiced one. But a genuine one, the only one I can see.

The kind that makes your lungs forget how to work.

The soft strum of guitar and the other sounds melted into nothingness, and it changed to the wild orchestra that always seemed to play every time I looked in her eyes.

We danced—if you could call it that. We didn’t know the steps. We didn’t even try.

We just moved, unafraid if we looked weird or too casual. My heart just screamed to keep holding her, and just look at her alone.

The others beside us whispered confessions and rejections. But inside this small space between Ayase and me, there was only firelight…and our breaths.

"I changed my mind." I mumbled. "And I also changed my promise."

Her eyes sparked questions. "What about it, Haru-san?"

I heaved a deep breath, steeling my resolve.

"I promised I'll be there if you watched the sea, right?”

Ayase nodded, cheeks turning crimson.

“But now, I promise to be there when you go home too, when you cook, when you watch TV, when you're asleep, when you're sad, when you're happy, when you're afraid and especially when you will finally say goodbye, I'll be there too."

She stared at me, eyes starting to glimmer in tears.

"T-that's..." she covered her mouth before sobs came out.

"If I could trade half of my lifespan just for another moment, then there’s no place I'd rather be other than being right next to you.”

I saw her tear slide down her cheek. I pulled her a little closer. Not close enough to scare her. Just enough for her to feel that she's right next to me.

That I am here.

“I-I’m…” she trailed off, finally bursting into tears.

Oh, being with Ayase. Can't this time just stop right here? Just for a single moment?

I really wish that we could just disappear together in a magical instant. Let the sand swallow us whole. Leave nothing behind, without a trace. Nothing but each other.

At this point, I can't imagine a world where I don't know her, and I don't want to ever leave her side. Without her, I'll be just another stranger in the wild world waking up into an old rotten apartment every single day of my life.

I would count the days that pass, lacking any direction or purpose. No one will scold me whenever I get up late. No one would cook breakfast, or ask if I slept well—or make sure that I take care of my body.

No one will remind me that school is important.

No one will remind that even broken people like me deserve to be loved and taken care of.

And I pray that tomorrow, I will wake up to find that Ayase was human. That she won't expire any sooner. That we'll live through decades and grow old together and raise a family. I think that I'd love that so much.

Envisioning myself that I am walking down the aisle and she was wearing a beautiful white dress. A beautiful garden full of flowers, gentle summer breeze blowing overhead. And a lovely midday sun warming our skin.

But that's the thing with magic. It was never real.

And it goddamn hurts me.

I know what the heck of a road I am trying to take. I know the consequences of being attached too much—and how it will break me in the end.

But Ayase—there's something in her pulling me in like a compass needle. She just won't disappear.

And I never wanted her to disappear.

I just wanted her to be here, and to be mine.

And…

“Then I'll whisper,” I finally said, “I choose you.”

She looked up at me, and in her eyes, I saw something breaking. Like her smile was trying to stay alive through the weight of something unspeakable.

“Haru…san.”

“I love you, Ayase.” I said before I could stop myself. "You saved me, and you made me feel that Sentinels are more human than the real thing."

"..."

My throat tightened, but these words—not even a concrete lump could stop them from coming out.

“I love you because you're Ayase. And you fought for your own life. Because you chose to feel, even when it kills you.”

She didn’t speak.

Tears fell from her eyes, and her fragile, brave little smile didn't waver—it was one made from real pieces of her.

“I feel the same, Haru-san.” she said. “I love you, too. Because you're a living proof that not all humans are the same. You proved them all wrong. You’re the one that realized this tiny hope that the powerful feeling of love exists. And most of all, you had a heart.”

Those words should’ve felt like a victory. But they didn’t. They landed like a knife turned backward.

She leaned forward, just enough for our foreheads to touch. I could feel her breath. I could feel everything she wanted to say but didn’t have the time to.

“But…” she whispered.

That one word.

Sharp and cold.

“But what?” My voice cracked.

She didn’t look away. Her gaze held mine with that quiet desperation—like she wanted to remember every detail of me.

“When this trip ends…” she said slowly, “I might not get another one.”

My stomach dropped, but I freaking disposed of the feeling.

“That doesn’t matter.” I smiled.

She gasped, clearly taken aback by my words.

"Because I'll turn every single day of our lives from now on as a journey you'll always remember. Heck, even if you're already too weak to function, I'll carry you to the sea, everywhere you want to go."

And that’s where she folded and broke down.

Her fingers tightened around mine.

“I’ll miss you,” she sobbed. “So, so much, Haru-san. If I was ever born in the afterlife, hopefully human, I'll look for you, and fall in love with you again.”

It wasn’t a farewell, but it felt like one.

I was always met with farewells before, and now, I have to brave through it with a smile.

For everything is temporary, Ayase is my forever.

"I'll choose you again without hesitation." I confidently declared.

The fire burned lower behind us. The guitar strings faded. The laughter blurred into the waves.

And in that quiet little space, we stood there—just two hearts that knew time was no longer on their side.

I held her tighter.

Not because I could save her.

But because I didn’t know how to let go.

And we’ll write a story woven with threads of imperfection and grace, journals of our ups and downs, a testament that some kinds of love are simply too vast for a single lifetime.