The Holiday Reunion

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December arrived with the promise of winter break and the proof of survival.
Airi stood on the Tokyo Station platform, hands trembling with anticipation. Six months had passed since the summer crisis. Six months of implementing their new plan, of choosing each other daily, of fighting through the hardest year yet.
But they'd made it. They were still here.
The train from Kyoto pulled in, and she searched the windows frantically. Then she saw him—Ren, already moving toward the door, bags in hand, eyes scanning for her.
When their eyes met, both started running.
They collided in the middle of the platform, Ren dropping his bags to catch her as she launched herself into his arms. He lifted her off her feet, burying his face in her hair, holding her like he'd never let go.
"You're here," she breathed. "You're actually here."
"I'm here. For three whole weeks."
"Three weeks." She pulled back to look at him. His hair was longer. There were new lines around his eyes from studying. But he was still Ren. Still hers. "I can't believe it."
"Believe it." He kissed her, deep and desperate and full of six months of longing. When they finally pulled apart, both were crying. "God, I missed you."
"I missed you so much."
They stood there, holding each other, oblivious to the crowds flowing around them. This was what they'd been fighting for. This moment. This connection. This love that survived everything.
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## 🏡 Going Home
They spent the first week at their hometown, staying with their respective families but spending every possible moment together. It felt like returning to their roots—the park where they'd had their first date, the rooftop of their old high school, the places where they'd fallen in love.
"Two years," Airi said, standing on their rooftop looking at the city. "We've been doing long-distance for two years."
"Two down, two to go." Ren stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. "Halfway there."
"Halfway." She leaned back against him. "That summer crisis feels like a lifetime ago."
"It was necessary. Painful, but necessary." He kissed her neck. "It forced us to get real about what we needed."
"The new plan helped. Daily texts, the letters, the every-other-weekend visits."
"Except when we couldn't. Like October."
October had been brutal—both drowning in midterms, unable to visit for three weeks straight. But they'd made it through. Video calls at midnight. Handwritten letters arriving at exactly the right moments. The structure had held.
"We made it through October," Airi said. "We can make it through anything."
"We can." He turned her to face him. "I have something to tell you. Good news."
"What?"
"I got accepted to a summer veterinary program. In Tokyo."
Airi's breath caught. "Tokyo? You'd be in Tokyo?"
"For eight weeks. July and August. I'd be doing clinical rotations at a veterinary hospital there." His smile was brilliant. "We'd be in the same city for two months."
"Ren!" She threw her arms around him. "That's incredible!"
"I know. I applied back in September but didn't want to say anything until I was sure. But I got the acceptance letter last week." He pulled back to look at her. "Two months together. Not just weekends. Actual time."
"I can't believe it."
"Believe it. Because it's happening." He kissed her. "We're going to have an almost-normal summer."
"Almost-normal sounds perfect."
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## 🎄 Christmas with Family
Christmas Eve, both families gathered at Ren's mother's apartment for dinner. It was cramped with six people, but it felt right. Both families had grown to accept—even support—their relationship.
"To Airi and Ren," Ren's mom said, raising her glass. "For proving everyone wrong."
"For making us believe in young love again," Airi's mother added, smiling.
Airi's father cleared his throat. Everyone fell silent.
"Three years ago, I set a test. Four years of university, four years of distance. If you made it through, I said, then we'd talk about next steps." He looked between Airi and Ren. "You've completed two years. Halfway through. And I'll admit—I didn't think you'd make it this far."
"Dad—" Airi started.
"Let me finish." He set down his glass. "I was wrong to doubt you. Both of you have shown remarkable commitment. You've built successful academic careers while maintaining your relationship. You've faced challenges I didn't anticipate—and you've overcome them." He looked at Ren specifically. "You've proven yourself, Ren. Not just to me, but to yourself. I'm proud of both of you."
Ren's eyes were bright with emotion. "Thank you, sir. That means everything."
"Don't thank me yet. You still have two years left." But her father was smiling. "But when those two years are done, when you've both graduated, I'll be honored to give you my blessing for the next step."
Airi's mother was crying happy tears. Ren's mom was beaming. And Airi felt something settle in her chest—recognition, validation, the knowledge that they'd earned this.
After dinner, Ren pulled Airi onto the small balcony.
"Your dad just gave us permission to get engaged after graduation."
"He did." Airi smiled up at him. "Two more years, and we can start planning our forever."
"Two more years." He touched the compass bracelet on her wrist. "We can do two more years."
"We can do anything."
He kissed her under the winter stars, and Airi thought: this is what they'd been fighting for. Not just each other, but this—the approval, the recognition, the path forward clearly visible.
---
## 📚 Graduate School Planning
The day after Christmas, they sat in a coffee shop with laptops and graduate school catalogs spread across the table.
"Okay," Airi said, pulling up a spreadsheet. "We need to find programs in the same city. Non-negotiable."
"Agreed. What are your top choices?"
"For clinical psychology PhD programs? Tokyo University is first choice—I'm already here, already working with Professor Nakamura. But also Osaka University and Kyoto University have excellent programs."
"I'm applying to Tokyo, Osaka, and Kyoto for veterinary residency programs. All three have strong clinical tracks." Ren looked at her screen. "So we have overlap in all three cities."
"What if we both get accepted to different cities?"
"Then we make a pros and cons list. Evaluate opportunities. Make the choice together." He took her hand. "The point is, after next year, we're in the same city. No more four hours apart."
"One more year of distance." Airi let that sink in. "Just one more year."
"One year. Then we're together. Same city, same life, same future."
"It feels real now. Before, it was abstract. But now..." She looked at the programs on her screen. "We're actually planning the next step."
"We are. And it's terrifying and exciting and perfect."
They spent three hours researching programs, comparing opportunities, discussing their dreams. By the end, they'd identified their top three cities, their top five programs each, and a clear application timeline.
"This time next year, we'll know where we're going," Ren said.
"Together," Airi added.
"Together."
---
## 🎆 New Year's Eve
New Year's Eve found them at their old park, bundled in coats, watching fireworks from a distance.
"Two years ago, we were about to graduate high school," Airi said. "About to start this whole journey."
"Two years ago, I was terrified."
"And now?"
"Now I'm confident. Not that it'll be easy—it never is. But that we'll make it." Ren pulled her closer. "We've survived the hardest parts. The adjustment, the loneliness, the temptation, the doubt. What's left to survive?"
"Senior year. Graduate school applications. One more year of distance."
"One more year." He turned to face her. "Then we're together. Really together. Every day. No more trains and phone screens and countdown timers."
"I can't wait."
"Me neither. But you know what? These two years have taught us something."
"What?"
"How to be partners. Not just romantic partners, but life partners. We've learned to communicate, to compromise, to support each other's dreams. Most couples don't learn that until after they're married. We're getting a head start."
"That's one way to look at it."
"It's the right way to look at it." He kissed her as the clock struck midnight. "Happy New Year, Airi."
"Happy New Year, Ren."
"To the year we finish long-distance."
"To the year we start our forever."
Around them, fireworks exploded in celebration. In their pockets, they both carried acceptance letters from summer programs. In their laptops, they had graduate school applications ready. In their hearts, they had certainty.
Two more years. Just two more years. And then the rest of their lives could begin.
---
## 🎓 Year Three Begins
January brought a return to school and a new energy. This was it—their final year of undergraduate. Their last year of distance. The home stretch.
"Senior year!" Saki squealed when Airi returned to campus. "Can you believe it?"
"I can't believe we made it here."
"You and Ren are still going strong?"
"Stronger than ever. He's coming to Tokyo for the summer for a program. Eight weeks together."
"That's amazing! You guys have seriously beaten the odds."
"We have." Airi felt pride in that. "It wasn't easy, but we did it."
Classes started with a new intensity. This was the year that mattered—the year graduate schools would see, the year that determined futures. Airi threw herself into her research, writing her honors thesis on adolescent social anxiety, conducting interviews, analyzing data.
And through it all, she maintained their routine. Daily texts. Three video calls a week. Letters that arrived on the 15th of every month. Every-other-weekend visits that never got canceled.
The structure held them together when everything else threatened to pull them apart.
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## 💌 The Letters
On January 15th, Airi received Ren's monthly letter:
*Dear Airi,*
*Senior year. Our last year of this. Sometimes I can't believe we made it here. Two years of distance, and we're still standing.*
*Actually, we're more than standing. We're thriving. You're writing your thesis. I'm working on advanced surgical techniques. We're both building the futures we dreamed about.*
*But more importantly, we're building our future together.*
*I think about next year a lot. About living in the same city. About seeing you every day instead of every other weekend. About falling asleep beside you and waking up to your face instead of your voice on a phone.*
*I think about our plans—graduate school, careers, eventually marriage. All of it feels real now. Not someday. Soon.*
*This summer, I get eight weeks with you. Eight weeks of almost-normal. I'm counting down the days (127, but who's counting?).*
*Thank you for choosing this hard path with me. Thank you for not giving up when it got difficult. Thank you for being my partner, my best friend, my home.*
*One more year of distance. Then the rest of our lives together.*
*I love you.*
*Forever yours,**Ren*
Airi read it three times, crying by the end. Then she pulled out her own stationery to write back:
*Dear Ren,*
*Your letters are what keep me going some days. When the loneliness feels heavy or the distance feels impossible, I read your words and remember why we're doing this.*
*We're halfway through graduate school applications. Every program I look at, I imagine you there. In the same city, the same life, the same future. That image keeps me motivated.*
*Sometimes I can't believe we survived the past two years. The fights, the doubts, the temptations. But we did more than survive—we grew. We learned how to be partners who support each other's dreams while building our own.*
*That's rare. That's special. That's worth every hard moment.*
*I'm counting down to summer too (127 days, we're definitely both counting). Two months of you in Tokyo. Two months of walking to dinner instead of FaceTiming. Two months of falling asleep together.*
*I can't wait.*
*Thank you for fighting for us. Thank you for being patient with my doubts. Thank you for being the kind of person worth waiting for.*
*One more year. Then forever.*
*I love you.*
*Always yours,**Airi*
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## 🌸 Spring Semester
Spring semester flew by in a blur of thesis work, graduate school applications, and carefully planned visits. Every other weekend, like clockwork, one of them got on a train. They'd learned to maximize their time—no wasting hours deciding what to do, just being together. Coffee shops for studying. Parks for walking. His apartment or her dorm for quiet conversations.
In March, they submitted their graduate school applications. Same day, same time, sitting on video call together.
"Ready?" Ren asked, finger hovering over the submit button.
"Ready."
"On three. One... two... three."
Both clicked submit simultaneously.
"We did it," Airi breathed.
"We really did. Now we wait."
"Now we wait." She smiled at him through the screen. "But at least we're waiting together."
In April, acceptances started rolling in. Airi got into all three of her top programs—Tokyo, Osaka, and Kyoto. Ren got into Tokyo and Osaka, waitlisted at Kyoto.
"Tokyo and Osaka," Airi said during their Sunday call. "We both have offers in both cities."
"So we decide together. Which one do we want?"
They spent hours discussing it. Tokyo meant Airi could stay with Professor Nakamura, continue her research. But Osaka had strong programs for both of them, and it was new territory for both—no established routines to break, just fresh starts together.
"Osaka," they said simultaneously, then laughed.
"You sure?" Ren asked.
"I'm sure. New city. New chapter. Together."
"Together." He smiled. "I'll accept Osaka tomorrow."
"Me too."
They were going to Osaka. Together. In four months, their long-distance relationship would finally end.
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## 📔 Journal Entry
*Dear Future Me,*
*We made it. Two years of long-distance complete. Halfway through the four-year test.*
*It's been the hardest two years of my life. But also the most growth I've ever experienced.*
*I learned how to be independent while being committed. How to support someone's dreams while pursuing my own. How to communicate when it's hard. How to choose love over convenience.*
*We're going to Osaka together. In four months, we start graduate school in the same city. Finally.*
*But here's what I realized: these two years weren't wasted time. They were necessary time. We needed to become individuals before we could truly be partners.*
*And now? Now we're ready. Ready for the same city, the same life, the eventual marriage and forever.*
*One summer of almost-normal (eight weeks together!). One final fall of distance. Then never again.*
*We did it. We're doing it. We're going to make it.*
*Love,**Present Airi (senior, surviving, succeeding)*
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