Only you and me

 
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**Three Years After the Wedding**
The rain fell gently on their apartment balcony as Airi sat with her morning coffee, watching the city wake up.
She was thirty years old now. A decade had passed since that first day on the rooftop when Ren had tutored her in math and somehow ended up tutoring her in living. Ten years of growth, struggle, distance, and ultimately—this. This beautiful life they'd built together.
Behind her, she heard Ren moving around the kitchen, talking softly to their newest foster dog—a golden retriever named Sunny who'd been with them for three weeks and was finally starting to trust again.
"Morning, beautiful," Ren said, appearing on the balcony with his own coffee and Sunny at his heels. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind."
"Good thoughts or worried thoughts?"
"Both." She smiled up at him. "Sit with me?"
He settled into the chair beside her, Sunny immediately resting her head on his knee. They sat in comfortable silence, watching rain fall, sipping coffee, just existing together the way they'd learned to do.
"What's on your mind?" he finally asked.
Airi took a breath. "I got offered something yesterday. Didn't want to tell you until I'd processed it."
"Okay..." His voice was careful. "Good offer or bad offer?"
"Good. Really good. The university wants me to teach. Adjunct professor in their clinical psychology program. Teaching the next generation of therapists."
"Airi, that's incredible! Why do you look worried?"
"Because it's one more thing. I already run the center, supervise twelve therapists, coordinate the school programs. Adding teaching means even less free time." She looked at him. "Less time with you."
"Hey." He set down his coffee and took her hands. "First of all, this is amazing and you should absolutely do it. Second, we've survived worse than busy schedules."
"Have we though? We survived distance, but that was different. We had no choice but to be apart. Now we have a choice, and I'm choosing work over time with you."
"You're not choosing work over me. You're choosing to expand your impact. To train the next generation of therapists who'll help even more invisible kids." He squeezed her hands. "That's not selfish. That's you living your purpose."
"But what about us? We already barely see each other during the week—"
"We see each other every morning. Every evening. We have our Wednesday lunches. Our weekend routines. That's more than we had during university." He smiled. "And I'm proud of you. Always proud of you. You should take this."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. As long as you promise to tell me if it becomes too much. If you need to pull back, you'll tell me."
"I promise." She leaned into him. "Thank you for always supporting my dreams."
"That's what partners do. We build each other up." He kissed her temple. "Now tell me more. What would you be teaching?"
They spent the next hour discussing the opportunity—one class per semester, teaching clinical techniques to graduate students, supervising their practicum work. It was perfect for Airi's skill set, her passion for training others.
"I'm going to do it," she decided. "Accept the position. Build my legacy beyond just my own practice."
"That's my wife. Changing the world, one student at a time."
"What about you? Any big news?"
Ren grinned. "Actually, yes. The animal rescue association wants to feature our rehabilitation facility in their national publication. And they've asked me to speak at their annual conference about our approach to rehabilitating traumatized animals."
"Ren! That's huge!"
"It means national exposure for the facility. Could lead to more funding, more resources, maybe even franchising the model to other cities."
"We're both leveling up," Airi observed.
"We are. Together, like always."
"Together," she agreed.
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## 🏫 Return to the High School
Later that week, they received an invitation that made them both laugh and cry.
Their old high school was having a ten-year reunion for their graduating class. And they'd specifically requested Airi and Ren as guests of honor.
"Guests of honor?" Ren read the invitation. "What does that even mean?"
"Apparently we're 'inspiration for current students about the power of commitment and choosing love,'" Airi read from the letter. "They want us to speak. Share our story."
"Our story of being stubborn idiots who refused to break up?"
"Our story of surviving four years of distance and building successful careers while staying together." She looked at him. "Want to do it?"
"Absolutely. It'll be fun seeing everyone. And maybe our story can help some kids who are facing their own impossible situations."
"Then let's do it."
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## 🎤 The Reunion
The reunion was held on a Saturday evening in their old school gymnasium. Decorated with photos from their graduating year, it was a time capsule of who they'd been a decade ago.
"Look how young we were," Airi said, pointing at a photo of their class. She found herself and Ren—sitting near each other but not together yet, the story still unwritten.
"Babies," Ren agreed. "Had no idea what we were getting into."
Their former classmates flooded them with questions: How did you make it work? What's the secret? How did you survive the distance?
And Airi found herself telling the truth: "We almost didn't make it. Multiple times. But we kept choosing each other, even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard."
"The secret is communication," Ren added. "And being willing to fight for it. Not with each other, but for each other."
Ms. Ito appeared, looking hardly older than she had a decade ago. "There they are! My favorite success story!"
"Ms. Ito!" They both hugged her.
"Look at you two. Married, successful, happy. I'm so proud." She wiped her eyes. "And I heard you're speaking to the current students? About relationships and commitment?"
"We are," Airi confirmed. "Though I'm not sure we're qualified to give advice."
"You're perfectly qualified. You lived it. That's the best qualification."
That evening, they stood in front of a gymnasium full of current high school students—teenagers facing their own impossible choices about love and distance and futures.
Ren spoke first: "Ten years ago, I sat behind the most perfect girl I'd ever seen and thought there was no way someone like her would ever notice someone like me. I was angry, lost, barely passing my classes. She was brilliant, focused, seemed to have everything figured out."
"But I didn't," Airi continued. "I was empty inside. Going through the motions. Afraid to feel anything because feeling meant being vulnerable."
They told their story—the tutoring sessions, the rooftop, the confession, the choice to pursue different universities, the four years of distance that nearly broke them.
"We had a crisis in our third year," Ren admitted. "Airi went silent for five days. I thought I'd lost her. I thought the distance had finally won."
"But it hadn't," Airi said. "Because even in my darkest moment, I knew one thing: life without Ren was unthinkable. So we fought through it. Made new rules. Adjusted our expectations. Chose each other again."
"Here's what I want you to know," Ren said, looking at the sea of young faces. "Long distance is hard. Like, really hard. If someone tells you it's easy, they're lying. But it's not impossible. If you love someone enough, if you're willing to do the work, you can make it."
"But," Airi added, "and this is important—you also have to choose yourself. Choose your dreams. Don't sacrifice your future for a relationship. Find someone who wants you to succeed as much as they want to succeed themselves."
"Choose someone who celebrates your victories instead of feeling threatened by them," Ren said. "Someone who makes you better, not smaller."
"And most importantly," Airi finished, "choose someone who chooses you back. Every day. Even the hard days. Especially the hard days."
The students gave them a standing ovation. Afterward, several came up to talk privately—kids facing their own impossible choices, looking for hope.
"My boyfriend's going to school in another city," one girl said. "Everyone says we'll break up. That we're stupid for even trying."
"Then prove them wrong," Airi said gently. "If you both want it enough, if you're both willing to work for it, you can make it."
"Did you ever regret it?" a boy asked. "Choosing distance over breaking up?"
"Never," Ren answered. "Not once. Every hard moment was worth it for this. For getting to build a life with my best friend."
As they left the school that night, walking hand in hand through the parking lot where they'd once said tearful goodbyes before train rides, Ren pulled Airi close.
"Think we helped them?"
"I think we gave them hope. The rest is up to them."
"Just like it was up to us."
"Just like it was up to us," she agreed.
---
## 🏥 The Expansion
Six months after the reunion, Airi's psychology center achieved something remarkable: a partnership with every public high school in the city.
Twelve embedded therapists working full-time in schools. Weekly mental health workshops. Early intervention programs. Anonymous counseling available to any student who needed it.
"We're reaching thousands of kids," Airi told Ren over dinner. "Thousands of invisible teenagers who now have someone who sees them."
"You did that. You built that."
"We built that. You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Supported my crazy expansion plans. Listened to me process every decision."
"That's easy when you're building something this important." He took her hand across the table. "I'm so proud of you, Airi. You're changing an entire generation."
"So are you. How many animals have you rehabilitated this year?"
"Sixty-three. Sixty-three animals that would have been euthanized. Now they're in loving homes."
"Sixty-three lives saved."
"Sixty-three second chances given."
They smiled at each other, both understanding: they were living their purpose. The dreams they'd had as teenagers were now reality. The goals they'd set during those four years of distance were achieved.
"We made it," Airi said softly. "Everything we said we'd do. We actually did it."
"We did. And we're not done yet."
"No. We're just getting started."
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## 💕 The Conversation
That night, lying in bed with rain falling softly outside, Airi brought up something they'd been dancing around for months.
"Ren?"
"Mm?"
"I've been thinking about something. Something big."
He rolled to face her, immediately attentive. "Tell me."
"What do you think about starting a family? Not right now, but soon. In the next year or two."
Ren's eyes widened, then filled with emotion. "Really? You want kids?"
"I do. I always have, I just... I wanted to wait until we were established. Until we'd built our careers and our life together. And I think we're there now."
"We are," he agreed. "God, Airi, yes. I want that. I want to have kids with you. Want to give them the childhood we both needed—full of love and support and parents who actually show up."
"Want to teach them about fighting for what matters. About choosing love even when it's hard."
"About rain not being lonely when you have someone to share it with."
They talked for hours about the future—about timing, about how they'd balance careers and parenting, about the kind of parents they wanted to be.
"I'm terrified," Airi admitted. "Of being a mom. Of messing them up."
"We'll mess them up a little. All parents do. But we'll also love them fiercely and show them that commitment matters. That's more than a lot of kids get."
"You're going to be an amazing father."
"You're going to be an incredible mother."
"We're really doing this. Planning our family."
"We've been planning our family since we were eighteen. We're just finally at the stage where we can start making it happen."
Airi felt tears slip down her cheeks—happy tears, overwhelmed tears, grateful tears for this life they'd built and the future they were creating.
"I love you," she said. "So much. For all of this."
"I love you too. For everything. For being my partner in everything."
"Partners in everything," she agreed. "Always."
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## 📔 Journal Entry
*Dear Past Me,*
*I'm thirty years old. A decade has passed since I met Ren. Ten years of growth and struggle and ultimately—joy.*
*I'm a professor now. Teaching the next generation of therapists. Running a psychology center that serves thousands of teenagers. Making invisible people visible on a scale I never imagined.*
*Ren runs a nationally recognized rehabilitation facility. He's spoken at conferences, been featured in publications, inspired other cities to adopt his model.*
*We're at the top of our fields. Both successful. Both doing exactly what we said we'd do.*
*And we're talking about starting a family. Creating the next chapter of our story.*
*Everything we dreamed about during those four years of distance—it all came true. The careers, the partnership, the life we built together.*
*But here's what I didn't expect: it keeps getting better. Every year, every milestone, every new chapter—better than the last.*
*Because we're growing together. Not just beside each other, but truly together. Partners in everything.*
*I wish seventeen-year-old me could see this. Could see that the lonely girl on the rooftop becomes this—successful, loved, living her purpose.*
*We made it, Past Me. We made it better than we ever imagined.*
*Love,**Airi Sato-Kurosawa (professor, psychologist, wife, soon-to-be mother)*
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