Chapter 30 – “The Last Day of School”

The morning sun spilled golden light across the school courtyard, catching the fluttering cherry blossoms in a slow, nostalgic dance. The halls of Class 3-B were alive with chaos and quiet tears at the same time — laughter, camera clicks, students exchanging last-minute gifts, and the occasional sob muffled into a sleeve. Riko weaved through it all, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as she tried to absorb everything around her. It felt surreal. Just yesterday, she and Daichi had been arguing over some trivial game of soccer. Today, the whole high school chapter of her life was ending.

She passed the bulletin board filled with photographs: sports day, cultural festival, and candid moments where she and Daichi somehow ended up tangled in each other’s arms — most by accident, but all remembered vividly. She chuckled softly at one of the photos: Daichi, mid-kick during the soccer festival, clearly aiming at her, while she ducked and tripped, causing the whole class to erupt in laughter. Those memories were hers — the chaos, the embarrassment, the laughter. And somehow, all of it had always been better with Daichi by her side.

“Riko-chan!” Daichi’s familiar voice cut through her thoughts. He approached, a small, neatly wrapped package in his hand. His grin was as infuriatingly charming as ever. “For you,” he said, handing it over.

She blinked at the tiny gift. Inside, she found a miniature soccer ball keychain, painted in vivid colors. Her cheeks burned. “A… keychain?” she asked, holding it delicately.

“For the girl who beat me every single time,” he replied, voice teasing, eyes warm. She laughed softly, shaking her head.

“You’re impossible,” she murmured, clipping it to her bag anyway, the weight of both the keychain and the sentiment settling comfortably against her chest.

Before she could dwell too long on the gesture, Mina appeared out of nowhere, phone in hand, ready to wreak her usual havoc. “Okay, everyone! Group selfie time! Say cheese!” She corralled the class into the tightest hug possible, shoving her phone in the middle.

Riko groaned but allowed herself to be dragged into the circle. “Legends of Class 3-B — We survived love and exams!” Mina declared dramatically as she snapped the photo, and the entire class erupted in laughter. Daichi grumbled, pretending to complain, but he placed an arm around her shoulders for the shot anyway. Riko blinked at him, flustered, before realizing he was just teasing — his way of making her feel at home amidst the chaos.

Later, as the last bells echoed through the corridors, Rei approached her quietly. His calm smile made her heart beat just a little faster. “You were always too bright for me to chase,” he said softly. “Be happy, okay?”

Riko nodded, giving a small smile in return. “I… thank you, Rei.”

The homeroom teacher then called everyone to attention. With gentle words, he spoke of the memories they had all made, the challenges they had overcome, and the bonds that would last beyond the classroom. Laughter mixed with soft sniffles as students remembered pranks, late-night study sessions, and festival mishaps. Riko glanced around, seeing Mina wiping tears from her eyes, Rei quietly nodding at classmates, and finally, Daichi standing beside her, hand casually brushing hers. She felt a warmth bloom in her chest — familiarity, comfort, and a pang of bittersweet nostalgia all at once.

When the final bell rang, they walked to the school field. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in pinks and golds, cherry petals drifting lazily around them. They found a quiet corner near the old soccer field, where so many of their memories had been made.

“Looks like everything’s ending,” Riko said softly, voice barely above the whispering wind.

Daichi shrugged, kicking a stray pebble. “Nah. Just changing chapters. High school ends, but life… life keeps going. And we’ll keep messing it up together,” he added with a teasing grin.

They sat in silence for a while, letting the evening soak into their bones. Riko thought of teaching kids, of guiding young minds. She imagined Daichi inspiring his students, sharing his love of language and stories. For the first time, she realized adulthood didn’t feel so scary with him around.

Finally, she broke the quiet. “We’ll still see each other, right?”

Daichi glanced at her, eyes softening. “Of course. I’m not done being your idiot yet.”

She laughed, a sound that matched the gentle rustle of petals around them. Slowly, they held hands, the gesture simple yet profound. For the last time as high schoolers, they let themselves just exist in each other’s presence — familiar, comforting, and infinitely precious.

Cherry blossoms drifted past them, petals landing on their clasped hands like tiny reminders of the years that had shaped them. Riko closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memory settle.

> “Even if the bell stops ringing, the memories keep echoing,” she thought, as cherry petals drifted past their joined hands.

And for once, the future didn’t feel scary. It felt like an unwritten field, waiting for them to make it theirs — together.