The End of Summer

“What will we do once summer ends?”

Sato turned to face Naomi, but the girl was lying down and looking at the sky.

“School will start. So I suppose we’ll be heading there.”

“No, I mean, what will become of us?”

“Ah…” Sato struggled with an answer. Truth is, he had kept the conversation at bay for as long as possible. He knew he and Naomi would not be reunited come September. His friend was meant to move across the country with her parents.

“We can always chat online. My mom got me a new phone… with a case this time!”

Naomi did not answer but kept looking at the passing clouds and gust of winds. The air was thick with the smell of hydrangeas and hibiscus. Sato’s heart sank. He knew his answer had been a poor one. Yet, what else could he have said? He hadn’t wished for his friend to move, and neither had Naomi.

“You’re probably right,” Naomi said sprightly. “With the internet we’ll never be more than a text away. Plus with my moving to a new house in a new city I’ll have tons to share with you!”

Naomi’s voice, a little too bright and a little too cheerful, made Sato’s own heart ache more. It was the same tone she had used all summer, a valiant effort to pretend that everything was okay, that their time together wasn't a ticking clock. They had met back in September, when her parents had moved from a few towns over. It was fall, and they had been meeting on the school grounds during lunch break. Sato, usually a boy of few words, had found himself drawn to her easy laughter and her way of making the mundane feel like an adventure. They had spent the first few weeks of school catching tadpoles in the creek behind the school and trading manga. She had introduced him to the weird, wild world of fantasy stories, and he had introduced her to his secret spot, this very hill they were lying on now.

"I still can't believe you dragged me for a whole two hours just to get me into an argument about the best way to cook instant ramen," Naomi continued, her eyes still on the clouds. The setting sun was beginning to paint the sky in shades of orange and purple. "That's dedication, Sato."

Sato smiled faintly. “I’m a man of principles. And you were wrong.”

“I was not!” she shot back, finally turning her head to look at him. Her eyes, usually so full of light, were a little damp around the edges. “Adding the egg in at the end is a sign of true culinary genius. Your method of putting it in with the water is just… barbaric.”

“It’s a contest of who can be more impatient,” he countered softly. The playful banter, a hallmark of their friendship, felt like a shield against the inevitable.

She giggled, a sound that was music to him. "You always did love a good debate, even if you were terrible at them."

"I am not terrible," he protested. "I just choose my battles."

"And you chose a losing one with me, didn't you?" Naomi’s smile faltered, and the shield of humor began to crack.

Sato felt a lump form in his throat. He looked away, tracing the outline of a nearby tree with his finger. "Maybe I did."

A comfortable silence fell between them, filled with the hum of cicadas and the distant chirping of crickets. It was a silence that spoke of shared memories: of bike rides to the beach, of building sandcastles that the tide mercilessly claimed, of late night talks over the phone until their parents told them to get some sleep. The summer had been a blur of sun-drenched days and star-filled nights, each one a precious, stolen moment. A debt to be repaid.

“Remember the time we tried to make s’mores over a magnifying glass?” Sato finally said, trying to lift the mood. “It just made the marshmallows smell like burning plastic.”

Naomi’s laughter returned, a little shaky this time. “And you ate it anyway! You said it was for science.”

“It was!” he insisted. “And for the record, it tasted exactly how it smelled.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She poked him gently in the arm. “But I like that about you. You always found a way to make even the dumbest ideas fun.”

Sato’s heart swelled with affection. He knew what she was doing. She was building a mental scrapbook, a collection of happy memories to carry with her. He decided to do the same.

“Remember the day we found that old, abandoned well?” he said, his voice laced with nostalgia. “You insisted it was a portal to another dimension. You even drew a map to it.”

“It was a very good map,” she said, her voice softer now, her eyes looking at him with an intensity he hadn't seen before. “And it was a very good theory. I’m still not convinced it wasn't.”

They both knew it was just a rusted, overgrown well. But in their world, anything was possible, especially if it meant another adventure. That was the beauty of their friendship: they could turn an ordinary summer into a legendary quest.

“I’ll miss you,” he blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. The words hung in the air, heavy and true.

Naomi’s bottom lip trembled. She sat up, her back to him, and pulled her knees to her chest.

“I’ll miss you too, Sato.”

He sat up next to her, giving her a little space but close enough that their shoulders were almost touching. The sun was now a fiery streak on the horizon, casting a long, golden light on them. It was a beautiful sight, and it felt like the perfect final frame for their summer.

“I was so excited when my parents told me we were moving,” Naomi confessed, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought it would be this big, amazing adventure. I met you and it was, for a while. Then they told me we were moving again. Across the country this time. That was when I realized what I was losing.”

Sato didn’t say anything. He just reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, a small, comforting gesture. He felt her flinch, then lean into his touch.

“I’m going to make so many new friends,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “I’ll tell you all about them. And you can tell me about your new classmates. Maybe they'll finally agree with you about the ramen.”

Sato chuckled, a tear finally escaping his eye. “Maybe they will. But I’ll still tell them you're wrong.”

He looked at the sky, the last vestiges of daylight clinging to the clouds like a stubborn memory. He thought about all the things they had done, all the laughs they had shared. He thought about the day they met, two lost souls finding a home in each other. And he thought about this moment, this last, perfect moment.

“I just wish…” she started, her voice breaking.

Sato squeezed her shoulder. “I know.”

He knew that no matter how many texts they sent, or how many calls they made, it wouldn't be the same. He wouldn’t be able to hear her laugh in person, or see the mischievous glint in her eye when she was about to say something ridiculous. The distance would be a cruel barrier, a vast chasm that no text or call could truly bridge.

Naomi turned to face him, her eyes brimming with tears. A single tear rolled down her cheek, catching the last of the sunlight. She gave him a sad smile, one that spoke of all the unspoken words and all the shared moments.

“Goodbye, Sato,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Goodbye, Naomi,” he whispered back, his own voice thick with emotion.

He closed his eyes, and a tear slid down his cheek, joining hers in the growing twilight. He knew that even though they were saying goodbye, a part of them would always be here, on this hill, watching the clouds and the endless summer sky. And he knew that he would never forget her, and the precious time they had together.