Chapter 34 – Paths That Cross and Don’t Return

Yuji saw her by accident.

He had just finished delivering a box of shoes to a boutique near the station, wiping sweat from his neck as he stepped back onto the sidewalk. The afternoon crowd moved lazily, people laughing, phones in hand, lives unfolding without pause.

Then a familiar silhouette stopped him cold.

Aiko Hoshizora stood across the street.

She wore an elegant dress, hair neatly styled, her posture straight and composed. Beside her was a man in a tailored suit, tall, confident, with the kind of smile that belonged to people who never worried about tomorrow.

The businessman.

Yuji recognized him instantly, even though he had never seen him before. Some instincts didn’t need proof.

Aiko laughed softly at something the man said. Not the bright laugh she had at the amusement park, but a controlled one. Polite. Distant.

The man leaned closer, guiding her gently by the elbow.

Yuji’s chest tightened.

For a moment, his feet refused to move. The streetlight flickered, and the world narrowed down to that single image. Aiko, walking away with someone else, her back straight, her steps steady, as if she hadn’t left a part of herself behind.

As if she hadn’t once promised to walk with him.

Yuji looked down at his hands.

They were shaking.

“Dad?”

Mai’s small voice snapped him back. She stood beside him, holding a paper bag with shoes peeking out. Her eyes followed his gaze.

Yuji crouched immediately, blocking her view. “Hey. Let’s go. We’re late.”

Mai tilted her head. “Late for what?”

“Dinner,” he said quickly. “I’m starving.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

Yuji stood, forcing himself not to look back.

He didn’t see Aiko stop for half a second.

He didn’t see her turn, eyes scanning the crowd, heart pounding for no clear reason.

If he had, he might have mistaken it for fate trying one last time.

The shoe shop buzzed with rare excitement that evening.

Yuji stared at the order sheet in disbelief.

“One hundred and fifty pairs?” he repeated.

The distributor nodded. “Corporate order. Office uniforms. If this goes well, there might be more.”

Yuji bowed deeply, gratitude flooding his tired body. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint.”

When the man left, Yuji leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly.

One hundred and fifty pairs.

This wasn’t survival anymore.

This was progress.

Mai clapped when he told her. “That’s a lot!”

Yuji laughed, ruffling her hair. “It is. We might even get takeout tonight.”

“Pizza?” Mai asked hopefully.

“Pizza,” he agreed.

For the first time in days, the heaviness in his chest eased. Work had always been his anchor. When emotions threatened to drown him, numbers and schedules kept him afloat.

He didn’t think about Aiko that night.

He didn’t let himself.

Saki Masumoto entered their lives quietly.

She was Mai’s homeroom teacher. Late twenties. Warm voice. Messy ponytail. The kind of smile that made children feel safe without trying too hard.

Yuji met her during a parent meeting.

“You must be Mai’s father,” she said, bowing slightly. “I’m Saki Masumoto.”

“Yuji Sakamoto,” he replied. “Thank you for looking after her.”

Saki smiled. “She’s a good kid. Very kind. And very observant.”

Yuji blinked. “Observant?”

“She notices when others are sad,” Saki said gently. “She gave her eraser to a crying classmate yesterday.”

Yuji’s throat tightened.

“She learned that from someone,” Saki added without realizing how deeply the words landed.

Over time, their conversations grew longer. About Mai. About school events. About small things that didn’t hurt to talk about.

Saki laughed easily. She didn’t ask about the past. She didn’t pry.

She just showed up.

When Yuji forgot to bring Mai’s lunch one morning, Saki shared hers without hesitation.

When Mai had a bad day, Saki stayed late to sit with her.

Yuji noticed.

And somewhere between gratitude and comfort, something warm began to grow.

Aiko noticed too.

She saw it on television first.

A short local segment. “Community Spotlight: Dedicated Single Fathers.”

Yuji stood awkwardly beside Mai, both of them smiling shyly. And beside them, crouching to Mai’s height, was a woman Aiko didn’t know.

Saki Masumoto.

Her hand rested lightly on Mai’s shoulder.

Aiko’s chest tightened painfully.

She replayed the clip twice.

Three times.

Her phone buzzed. A message from the businessman. A dinner reservation reminder.

She didn’t answer immediately.

Her reflection stared back at her from the dark screen. Perfect makeup. Perfect posture. Perfect life that felt hollow.

Jealousy crept in, sharp and unwanted.

Not because Yuji was moving on.

But because someone else was standing where she once belonged.

That night, Aiko lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

She told herself she had no right.

She told herself this was the price of her promise.

But her heart didn’t listen.

It whispered one cruel truth over and over.

She had walked away.

And the world had not waited for her.