Learning to communicate

---
The day felt impossibly long.
Airi couldn't focus on any of her classes. Every time she glanced at Ren—sitting in his usual seat behind her—she felt a confusing mix of love and anxiety. He looked equally distracted, tapping his pencil against his desk in an irregular rhythm that spoke of nerves.
At lunch, their friend group was unusually quiet, clearly aware something was wrong but too polite to ask directly.
"You guys okay?" Miki finally ventured.
"We will be," Airi said, at the same time Ren said, "We're figuring it out."
They looked at each other across the table. Ren reached out, taking her hand. "We are figuring it out. Right?"
"Right," Airi agreed, squeezing back.
"That's... ominously vague," Yuki observed.
"We had a fight yesterday," Ren admitted. "About the distance. About whether we're being realistic."
"And?" Takeshi asked.
"And we're going to talk about it. Really talk. After school." Airi looked at Ren. "No running away this time."
"No running away," he confirmed.
Tanaka, who'd been quietly eating, spoke up. "For what it's worth, you two are the most stubborn people I know. You'll figure it out because neither of you knows how to quit."
"Is that a compliment?" Ren asked.
"It's an observation. Take it however you want."
Despite the tension, Airi smiled. Their friends believed in them. That had to count for something.
---
## 🏫 The Rooftop Conversation
After school, they met on the rooftop. The sky was overcast, threatening rain, but neither suggested going inside. This conversation needed their space—the place where all their important moments happened.
They sat against the fence, close but not touching, both gathering courage.
"I don't know how to start," Airi admitted.
"Me neither." Ren turned to face her. "But I think we need to say all the scary things. The things we've been thinking but not saying."
"Okay." Airi took a breath. "I'm terrified that four years is too long. That we'll grow into different people. That one day you'll wake up and realize you don't love me anymore."
"I'm terrified of the same thing. Terrified that you'll meet someone brilliant at Tokyo University—someone who's there, who can hold you when you're sad, who doesn't make you travel four hours just to see them." His voice was raw. "Someone better than me."
"There's no one better than you."
"You don't know that. You haven't met them yet."
The brutal honesty stung, but it was also necessary.
"I'm scared I won't be enough," Airi continued. "That phone calls and texts won't be enough. That you'll need more than I can give from a distance."
"I'm scared that I'll fail. At school, at making time for us, at being the boyfriend you deserve." Ren ran his hand through his hair. "I'm scared that my best won't be good enough."
"I'm scared we're making a mistake. Choosing distance when we could choose to be together."
"I'm scared we're being selfish. Pursuing our dreams when it means hurting each other."
They sat with those fears between them, ugly and honest and terrifying.
Finally, Ren said, "But here's what I know. What I'm certain of, even when I'm scared."
"What?"
"I love you. Not 'I think I love you' or 'I might love you.' I know I love you. Deep in my bones, no-question-about-it, love you." He took her hand. "And I know that giving up before we even try would haunt me for the rest of my life."
"I know I love you too," Airi said. "And I know I'd regret not fighting for this. For us."
"So what do we do? How do we make this work?"
"I think..." Airi paused, organizing her thoughts. "I think we need a plan. Not just 'we'll make it work' but actual strategies. Concrete things we'll do to stay connected."
"Okay. Like what?"
"Like scheduled video calls. Not just texting whenever, but dedicated times when we're both fully present. No studying, no distractions. Just us."
"I can do that. What else?"
"Visiting on a schedule. Maybe every other weekend? That way we're not constantly negotiating when we'll see each other. We know."
"Every other weekend," Ren agreed. "We alternate who travels."
"And we're honest. Brutally honest. If something's bothering us, we say it immediately instead of letting it build up."
"Even if it's scary?"
"Especially if it's scary." Airi squeezed his hand. "Yesterday, we both held back because we didn't want to hurt each other. But that just made it worse."
"You're right. Okay. What about..." Ren hesitated. "What about if one of us develops feelings for someone else?"
The question hung in the air, painful but necessary.
"Then we tell each other," Airi said firmly. "Immediately. Before anything happens. And we talk about it."
"And if talking doesn't fix it?"
"Then..." Airi forced herself to say it. "Then we break up. Honestly and kindly. Because I'd rather lose you with honesty than keep you with lies."
"I don't want to lose you at all."
"Neither do I. So we'll be honest. We'll communicate. We'll do the work." She turned to face him fully. "But Ren, we also need to accept that this might not work. That despite our best efforts, distance might break us."
"I don't accept that."
"You have to. We both have to go into this knowing that it's possible to fail. Because if we go in thinking we're invincible, we won't take it seriously enough."
Ren was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Okay. I accept that it's possible to fail. But I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure we don't."
"Me too."
"So we have a plan. Communication schedule. Visiting schedule. Brutal honesty. What else?"
"We need to trust each other. Really trust. That means not interrogating each other about new friends. Not getting jealous every time the other person mentions someone's name. Trusting that we chose each other for a reason."
"That's going to be hard for me," Ren admitted. "I'm already the jealous type."
"And I'm already the overthinking type. So we both need to work on it." Airi smiled slightly. "Together."
"Together." He pulled her close. "I'm sorry about yesterday. About suggesting one of us should give up our dream."
"I'm sorry for running away instead of talking."
"We're both learning."
"We are." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I think Ms. Yamamoto was right about one thing."
"What?"
"That we needed to have these conversations. Not the easy ones, but the hard ones. The ones that scare us."
"Did we pass?"
"I think so. We're still here, aren't we?"
"We are." He kissed the top of her head. "And we're going to stay here. Through everything."
"Through everything," she echoed.
---
## 📋 The Official Plan
That evening, sitting in the library, they wrote everything down. Literally. A physical document outlining their strategy for making long-distance work.
**The Plan for Us:**
1. **Communication Schedule**   - Video call every night before bed (even if just 10 minutes)   - Longer calls Sunday afternoons (minimum 1 hour)   - Text throughout the day, but no expectation of immediate response during class/study time   - Voice messages when we miss each other
2. **Visiting Schedule**   - Every other weekend, alternating who travels   - Holidays and breaks: discuss schedule at start of each semester   - Emergency visits allowed (but define what qualifies as emergency)
3. **Honesty Policy**   - If something bothers us, we say it within 24 hours   - No "I'm fine" when we're not fine   - Difficult conversations happen via video call, not text   - Annual "state of the relationship" check-in
4. **Trust Agreements**   - We can have friends of any gender   - We tell each other about new people in our lives   - We don't interrogate or demand constant updates   - If we feel jealous, we say so (but don't act on it without discussion)
5. **Individual Growth**   - We pursue our dreams fully (no holding back)   - We support each other's goals   - We maintain separate friend groups   - We don't make the other person our entire world
6. **Emergency Protocols**   - If one of us is struggling (mentally, emotionally), we tell the other immediately   - If the relationship is struggling, we address it head-on   - If we need space, we ask for it clearly (with timeline)   - If we need to break up, we do it with honesty and kindness
7. **The Exit Clause**   - If this stops making us happy more often than it makes us happy, we reassess   - If one of us develops feelings for someone else, we talk immediately   - If the distance becomes unsustainable, we're honest about it   - We refuse to stay together out of obligation or guilt
They both signed it. Literally signed their names at the bottom like a contract.
"This feels very... official," Airi said, looking at their signatures.
"Good. It should be." Ren folded the paper carefully. "I'm taking this seriously. Taking us seriously."
"Me too." She pulled out her phone. "I'm setting all the reminders now. Sunday calls. Visit schedules. Everything."
"You're so organized."
"And you're so spontaneous. We balance each other."
"We really do." He took a photo of the signed document. "I'm keeping this. As a reminder. When things get hard, I'll look at this and remember we had a plan."
"When things get hard," Airi corrected gently. "Not if. When."
"When," he agreed. "But we'll handle it. Because we've thought about it. Planned for it."
"Does this feel less scary now? Having a plan?"
Ren considered. "Yes and no. The fear is still there. But it feels... manageable. Like we're not just hoping for the best, we're actively working toward it."
"Exactly." Airi saved the photo to her phone as well. "We're not leaving this to chance. We're choosing it. Every day."
"Every day," he echoed.
---
## 🌙 That Night
Airi sat at her desk, the plan printed out and tacked to her bulletin board where she'd see it every morning. She pulled out her journal.
*Dear Future Me,*
*Yesterday we fought. Today we planned.*
*And somehow, the planning made everything feel more real. More possible.*
*We had the hard conversation Ms. Yamamoto said we needed. We said the scary things. Acknowledged the fears. And then we made a strategy.*
*Because that's what adults do, right? They don't just hope and wish and cross their fingers. They plan. They communicate. They work.*
*Ren and I created a literal contract for our relationship. Which sounds unromantic when I write it like that. But actually, it's the most romantic thing we could do. Because it shows we're serious. We're committed. We're willing to do the work.*
*I'm still scared. But I'm also hopeful.*
*Because we're not naive kids anymore. We're people who love each other enough to face reality head-on.*
*Four months until exams. Five months until we're in different cities.*
*But we have a plan.*
*And more importantly, we have each other.*
*Love,**Present Airi (scared but prepared)*
Her phone buzzed with their first scheduled call.
"Hey," Ren's face appeared on screen, smiling. "Testing the new system."
"Hey. It's working."
"How are you feeling? After today?"
"Better. Calmer." She smiled. "Having a plan helps."
"It really does." He was in his room, sitting on his bed. "I keep looking at the document. Makes it feel real. Like we're actually doing this."
"We are actually doing this."
"We are." He was quiet for a moment. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not giving up on us. For being willing to have the hard conversations. For making me face my fears instead of running from them."
"Thank you for the same. For being honest about your doubts. For not pretending everything was fine when it wasn't."
"We make a good team."
"The best team."
They talked for twenty minutes—about their day, about the plan, about nothing and everything. When they finally hung up, Airi felt lighter than she had in days.
They had a plan. They had communication. They had love.
And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
---
## 🌸 The Next Day
At lunch, their friends immediately noticed the change.
"You two seem better," Miki observed.
"We are better," Airi confirmed.
"We had the talk," Ren explained. "The real one. About all the scary stuff."
"And?" Yuki prompted.
"And we made a plan." He pulled out the printed document. "A literal, written plan for making long-distance work."
Takeshi took it, reading through. "Wow. You guys are serious."
"We are."
"This is..." Tanaka looked impressed. "Actually really smart. Most couples just wing it and crash and burn."
"We're not winging anything," Airi said firmly. "We're being intentional."
"I think it's romantic," Miki said, still reading. "Like, you love each other enough to do the hard work. To be honest about the difficulties. That's mature love."
"We're learning," Ren said, taking Airi's hand. "But yeah. We're committed to making this work."
"You will," Miki said with certainty. "Because you're not just hoping. You're planning. There's a difference."
Later, as they walked to class, Ren pulled Airi aside.
"I need to tell you something."
"Okay..."
"Yesterday, when we were fighting, I thought about giving up. Just for a second. Thought maybe it would be easier to break up now than drag it out."
Airi's chest tightened. "And?"
"And I realized that would be the biggest mistake of my life. Because easy isn't always better. Sometimes the hard thing is the right thing." He cupped her face gently. "You're the right thing. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."
"You're my right thing too."
"Good. Because you're stuck with me now. Official plan and everything."
"Can't back out now. It's in writing."
"Exactly." He kissed her forehead. "We've got this, Airi."
"We've got this."
And for the first time since the counseling session, Airi truly believed it.
---*