Chapter 13 - To You in 8 Years

Koji sat by the window, face caught in the dim orange haze of the streetlight. His eyes were restless, heavy, and hollow—haunted by ghosts he couldn’t outrun.

And then—

**FLASHBACK-EIGHT YEARS AGO**

A younger Koji, lying in bed. Today is the day Hana leaves.

In his hands—a slightly wrinkled envelope. Hana’s handwriting. His mother had just given it to him.

He hadn’t opened it. Until now.

His fingers trembled as he slid the letter free and began to read:

“Koji,
I don’t even know how to start this. I’ve been sitting outside my grandma’s house for three days… waiting. Hoping you’d come.
But you didn’t.
I’m not angry. I know it’s not your fault.
It’s just… I can’t shake the feeling I betrayed you somehow. Like I used you. I swear I didn’t.
You were the only one for me. I never even looked at anyone else.I know you think you’ll be alone again when I leave. But the truth is… I’ll be alone too.
And still—because of you—I learned something.
Hope.
You were my hope in this ugly, cruel world. The only reason I thought maybe living was worth it.
So I know I have no right to ask this, but if you can—if there’s even the smallest chance—please meet me tomorrow at the bus stand before I go.If you show up… I’ll know. I’ll know there’s still hope. And I’ll wait for you.
I promise you something, Koji.
Eight years from now—when we’re twenty-three—I’ll come find you. I’ll search for your voice no matter where you are. I won’t stop until I do.
Please… wait for me.
—Hana”

Tears blurred the words. Koji folded the letter back carefully, hands shaking.

He set it on his desk.

And then… he lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He never went to the bus stand.

And now—well, we already know the rest.

**PRESENT**

Koji sat in the dark, staring at the flickering streetlights outside.

A sudden slam. Footsteps.

The door burst open.

Kenji stormed in—breathless, eyes burning.

Koji turned, startled. “Kenji? I thought you went home—”

Kenji didn’t answer. He stepped forward, chest heaving.

“The day Hana died,” Kenji said, voice tight. “Why weren’t you there?”

Koji frowned. “I told you. I didn’t know she was leaving that day—”

SMACK.

Kenji’s palm cracked across his cheek.

Koji staggered, stunned. Kenji stood there, trembling, holding the opened letter.

Koji’s eyes widened. “You… read it?”

Kenji’s voice snapped like a whip. “Yes! And you lied! You knew! She waited for you—begged for one last moment—and you…” His voice broke. “You left her standing there alone.”

He shoved Koji hard.

Kenji shoves him. Koji shoves back.

They’re grown now, but in this moment they’re just two boys again — fighting, desperate, stupid.

Kenji’s weight pins him.

Koji hears it then — crack.

The photo slides from the table, face-down on the floor.

The one with all three of them. Fireworks blooming in the night behind their smiles.

The only proof that they’d once been happy.

Shattered glass catches the light. Something catches in Koji’s chest.

Rage swallows him.

With a sudden twist, he pins Kenji down, snatching a jagged shard. His arm rises—

Kenji flinches, covering his face.

The shard never comes down.

A single tear hits Kenji’s forehead.

Kenji looks up. Koji’s bleeding.

Koji lowers the glass—then, in one motion, presses it to his own neck.“Koji—!”

Kenji lunges, wrenching it away and shoving him back.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Kenji’s voice cracks.

Koji doesn’t answer.Kenji’s hands shake. “You think ending your life will bring her back?”

Koji’s head snaps up, eyes burning.

“What the fuck else can I do? I’m the reason she’s not here! If I’d gone to the bus stop—if I hadn’t let her go to the bridge—”

His voice catches.

“She’d still be here. And I live with that every day. I was scared of her leaving me. I was scared of being alone. Now she’s just… gone.”

Kenji swallows hard.“Hana said she’d meet you in eight years.”

“This year.” Koji’s voice is a whisper. “Now. When I’m twenty-three. And here I am—without her. Alone.”

Kenji exhales, bitter. “Guess we both broke our promises.”

He pulls something from his pocket. A folded envelope. Not Hana’s love letter — another one.

Koji stares. “How…?”

Kenji’s eyes drop. “She sent me a letter too. Not like yours. She just wanted to meet as a friend… to say goodbye. But I was scared too. I thought if she left, I’d lose you as well. I couldn't face that.”

His voice cracks.“You’re not the only one who left Hana alone. I did too. And now we both have to live with that.”

Rain begins to patter against the window.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Koji says quietly.

Kenji almost smiles. “Neither have you.”

He picks the broken photo from the floor and hands it over. Koji stares at it, his reflection warped in the cracks.

“There’s no shame in looking for a better version of yourself,” Kenji says.

They both glance at the mess around them.“I’ll get something from Yumi’s for first aid,” Kenji mutters.

He crosses the hall. Yumi’s door is ajar. The rain outside is louder now.“Yumi?”

Silence.

He pushes the door. The room is empty. On the table: a note, weighed down with a few bills.

Thank you for everything.

Kenji freezes.

Then bolts back to Koji, shoving the note into his hands.

Koji’s face drains of color.

He doesn’t say a word—he just looks toward the rain.

He knows exactly where she’s going.

Koji doesn’t waste a breath. He bolts for the door, the rain swallowing his footsteps.

“Check the convenience store!” he shouts over his shoulder. “See if she’s there!”

Kenji blinks at him through the downpour, but something in Koji’s voice makes his gut twist. He takes off toward the store without another word.

Koji runs the other way.

The rain stings his face, blurring the world into streaks of grey and orange.
 The air tastes like the past — that same stormy night, the one where Hana’s voice was lost to the wind. The same fear coils in his chest.

It’s all happening again.

If he hesitates this time, Yumi will vanish too.

He sprints along the seaside road, the ocean roaring just beyond the guardrail. The bus stand flashes by in his peripheral — the same one where Hana once waited for him. The same one he broke.

His foot hits something slick.

He slips — crashes to the wet pavement. His palms sting. The rain roars louder.

Koji pushes himself up, breath ragged — and freezes.

There, gleaming under the streetlight, is the whale ring.

The one he’d thrown away.

He stares at it, water streaming down his face, unsure if it’s rain or tears.

And then—

A flash of movement ahead.

Through the curtain of rain, we see Yumi.

**THE CLIFF**

Rain pelts the jagged rocks below as Yumi stands at the edge, the same place she once escaped with Koji — where laughter felt possible, if only for a moment.

Her hair clings to her face, tears mixing with the rain, tracing silent trails down her cheeks. She stares into the abyss, hollow and broken — the weight of a thousand shattered hopes pressing down.

No light. No faith. Just the storm.

**FOUR HOURS EARLIER**

Yumi's father limps beneath a flickering streetlight after his confrontation with Koji and Kenji, the blood on his shirt dried to a dull crust. He pulls out his battered wallet — and his breath catches.

His daughter's photo is missing.

Panic claws at his chest.

A soft voice breaks the night:

“Are you looking for this?”

He looks back.

There she is — Yumi, standing with tears glistening in her eyes, holding out the missing photo.

Without a word, she asks, voice trembling. Her eyes widened as she knew that the man before her was her father- the very same stranger she once feared.

“Why didn’t you meet me? All this time... I was alone all this time. I waited forever. I’m sorry for the trouble. I caused you. I'm a horrible daughter. I should have helped you sooner. Please forgive me.”

She pulls him into a hug, a fragile bridge between two lost souls.

Suddenly, a cold voice slices through the moment:

“You’re a burden. To your family. To your own daughter. You are just a stain in her life.”

His ex-wife’s shadow falls over them like a poison.

He pushes her back, mouth moving but no words come.

Yumi whispers softly:

“I don’t understand... but please, come with me. I have friends who take care of me. And found someone I like. Please I will take care of you.”

Her father’s heart stutters — hope flickers. Maybe she’s found a life without him. Maybe she’s safe.

His trembling hands rise. He signs to her- slowly, painfully.

“I love you. I’m happy you found people who care. Just forget about me. Your failure of a father”

Yumi confused says "I... I don't understand what you are saying."

He tries to walk away, the weight of failure heavy on his back.

Yumi grabs his hand, voice breaking:“Please don’t go. Don't leave me again.”

Her father can't stay with her even when she wants to.

Yumi fell to the ground feeling left alone again as tears fill her eyes.

He pulls free, running into the night, tears streaking down his face but a strange relief in his heart.

She’s not alone anymore.

**THE PRESENT**

Yumi stands at the cliff’s edge, toes just over the slick stone. The ocean roars below, dark and endless. Rain lashes against her skin, soaking her hair, plastering it to her cheeks. She draws in a long, trembling breath.

Then—

“YUMI! Stop!”

The voice cuts through the storm like lightning.

Her eyes widen. She knows that voice. Even through the pounding rain, even through the wind’s howl—she knows.

She turns.

Koji stands there—bloodied, bruised, drenched from head to toe. His chest heaves, breath visible in the cold air. Water drips from his hair, trailing down the curve of his jaw.

“Stop it,” he pleads, voice raw. “Please… just come here. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Yumi’s tears mix with the rain. “Leave me. I just cause trouble for everyone. There’s no reason for me to be here.”

Koji’s eyes flicker with something sharp. “That letter… did you see your father?”

“Yes,” she whispers, the word trembling. “And you know what? He left me. Said I caused him nothing but trouble. I guess I deserved it… for all the pain I caused him. But he left because he doesn’t want me anymore. So why stay? Whenever I try to connect with anyone, they push me away. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone.”

“You thought I rejected you that day?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t you? I can’t even say what’s on my mind. I depend on you for everything. You could find any other woman who—”

Koji blinks. “When did I reject you?”

Her lips part. “You… didn’t?”

A faint, almost disbelieving smile starts to form on his face——but then her foot slips.

The world tilts. Her stomach lurches as the cliff edge disappears beneath her. Wind whips past her ears—then a jolt. She’s not falling.

Koji’s hand is wrapped around hers, knuckles white, veins standing out. His body strains against the rain-slick railing. His boots scrape on the edge, searching for grip.

The iron under his other hand is slick. His fingers begin to slide.

“Let me go!” she screams over the roar of the ocean. “We’ll both fall!”His voice is ragged, fierce. “No. I’m not letting another person go… ever again.”

The cold air bites at her skin, but her face burns hot. Tears spill freely now, warm against her cheeks for just a second before the rain washes them away. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “Sorry for being like this—”

“Shut up. You’re not bothering me. Stop blaming yourself—”

His grip shifts. The railing is too slick.

And then—his hand slips.

Both of them vanish into the roar and blackness below.

As they both plunged into the ocean, Koji realized—too late—that he couldn’t swim. The cold water swallowed him, dragging him deeper. His lungs burned. From somewhere in the darkness, he heard it—the haunting call of a whale. Then another, echoing with it. Two voices, resonating together.

In the murky depths, Hana’s words came back to him, and from what little light reached the water, he saw a silhouette reaching for him. A hand. His vision dimmed, swallowed by black.

When he opened his eyes again, it wasn’t light he saw—it was rain still falling, the ocean’s roar replaced by Yumi’s desperate voice. She was dragging his limp body onto the beach, waves breaking against the shore as the first hints of dawn crept over the horizon.

“Please… wake up!” she cried, pressing her hands to his chest. Koji didn’t move. Her breath caught; she hesitated—then leaned down, sealing her lips over his, forcing air into his lungs.

Koji’s eyes snapped open. He coughed violently, turning his head to spit out seawater. Gasping for breath, he managed to croak, “Forgot… I can’t swim…”

Yumi stared at him, her face pale and wet—not just from rain. She slapped him hard. “Idiot! Why would you risk yourself if you can’t even swim?!”Koji rubbed his cheek, still catching his breath. “Because I’m not letting you be alone again,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer you right away… I was scared you’d leave me.”

Tears blurred her vision as she pulled him into a fierce hug. “I’ll never let go,” she whispered.

Koji gently pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Never be afraid to ask for help. From anyone. You’re a great person, Yumi… and wonderful, whether you see it or not.”

He took her hand and placed something in her palm—the whale ring. “Someone I cared about gave me this. They told me it’s for people who understand, who can hear your voice… and I’ve found that person.”

Yumi looked at it, then laughed through her tears, hugging him again.

Footsteps pounded across the sand. Kenji appeared, dripping wet, his hair plastered to his head. He stared at them. “You two went for a swim? Why are you soaked?”

“You’re soaked too!” Koji shot back, chucking a small rock at him.Kenji dodged with a yelp. “I’ve been running all over! The flower shop, the store—finally thought to check here, and guess what? Found you!”“I’m sorry for all this,” Yumi said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kenji replied, smiling. “But you two are gonna catch a cold if we don’t dry off soon. Let’s get moving before people start staring.”

Koji glanced at him. “One more thing. Can we move Yumi’s stuff to my place? She… left her apartment.”

Yumi’s face flushed, her gaze dropping. Kenji grinned. “Sure, man—just pay me this time, okay?”

The three of them started walking away from the beach, the rain finally easing as the dawn light spread across the sky.

**EPILOGUE**

The days that followed felt lighter—though not without their shadows.Koji and Kenji worked side by side in the apartment, hauling the last of Yumi’s things into Koji’s place. The room felt strangely quiet when it was finally empty.

A knock at the door broke the moment. Two police officers stood there.


 Koji froze; Kenji stiffened.

But all they asked about was the old bus stand Koji had smashed.By the end of the day, the three of them were out in the drizzle, patching wood and tightening bolts. Yumi teased them the whole time, laughing at their muttered curses. Even Kenji cracked a smile.

Elsewhere, Yumi’s father moved slowly between rows of small desks, helping the primary school children with their handwriting. The principal—the same man who had once replaced Koji’s mother—watched from the doorway, quietly approving.

At the cemetery, fresh flowers rested against Hana’s grave. Hana's aunt sitting beside, placing her mother’s photograph gently in front of the stone. This time, when she smiled, it she felt a quiet relief that she can't explain.

Koji sits alone on a worn park bench, his leg bouncing, the faint thump-thump of his sneaker tapping the dirt.

Above, the sky is painfully bright — the kind of blue that feels like it shouldn’t exist after everything he’s been through.

Across the grass, parents chase their laughing children. The sound is soft, almost dreamlike, each laugh like a memory he never had.

A sudden gust of wind brushes through his hair. He squints, raises a hand to shield his eyes—

and freezes.

There, standing just beyond the path, is his father.

No bars. No shadows. Just him, smiling.

Before Koji can even stand, Kenji bursts forward, stumbling over his own feet, tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Dad!”

They collide in a desperate hug — father and son holding each other as if to make up for every day they lost.

The camera pulls back, the wind still whispering through the trees, until they’re small figures in the frame.

That evening, Koji stood at his bedroom window in his parents’ home.Below, in the fading light, a boy and a girl rode their bicycles across the parking lot, their laughter carrying faintly through the warm air.

His chest tightened. For a heartbeat, they weren’t strangers — they were him and Hana, long ago, racing into the wind.

A gentle hand rested on his back. He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to — he knew it wasn’t Yumi’s.

His eyes burned, but he let the ache settle. A slow breath in. A slow breath out.

It was time to live with the good memories, not just the guilt.

When he finally turned, Yumi was there by the doorway, smiling faintly,
 one hand resting on a stack of moving boxes. She gave a small wave.

Koji’s lips lifted in return. He closed the window, shutting out the wind and the ghosts it carried.

Outside, the boy and girl pedaled down the slope, their voices fading.

The camera lingered on the curve of the hill, the pale glow of the streetlamps beginning to hum, the sky a deep, endless blue.

As they disappeared beyond the hill’s crest, the frame held still, just long enough for the quiet to feel permanent.

THE END