Chapter 10: If It’s Meant to Be

The apartment was too quiet.

Haruto Takeda stood by the window, hands in his coat pockets, staring down at the city below. Cars passed. People laughed. Life moved forward with cruel efficiency.

And Sakura Fujimoto was nowhere in it.

It had been days since the wedding was canceled. No messages. No accidental meetings. No chaotic laughter echoing through his carefully structured life. The silence felt heavier than the shouting, heavier than the embarrassment, heavier than the chaos she brought with her.

He missed her.

Not the trouble. Not the drama.

Her.

The way she smiled without thinking. The way she spoke before her brain could stop her. The way she disrupted everything and somehow made it feel alive.

Haruto exhaled slowly. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself.

A knock came at the door.

Before he could turn, it swung open.

“Good news!” Kenji Sakamoto announced loudly, stepping in like a storm. “You’re still alive. Bad news? You look like a man who’s been emotionally abandoned by fate.”

Haruto didn’t even react. “You’re early.”

Kenji squinted at him. “Wow. No sarcastic comeback? No eye roll? Yeah, this is serious.”

Kenji dropped his bag and walked over, leaning against the table. “You miss her.”

Haruto didn’t deny it.

Kenji nodded knowingly. “Of course you do. Men always miss the chaos after it leaves. Silence is scarier than noise.”

Haruto finally looked at him. “Why does it feel like she just… disappeared?”

Kenji shrugged. “Because she never belonged to the calm version of your world. People like her come like fireworks. Loud. Bright. Then gone.”

He paused, then added more softly, “But if the gate has it…”

Haruto frowned. “Gate?”

Kenji grinned. “Fate. I meant fate. Same thing. Sounds cooler if you say gate.”

He continued, unusually sincere. “If fate has it, the girl you love with all your heart will eventually walk back into your life. No matter how many wrong turns you take.”

Haruto looked away again, eyes drifting to the window. “What if she doesn’t?”

Kenji shrugged. “Then you move forward. Broken, wiser, slightly more dramatic.”

There was a pause.

“I was thinking of going back to London,” Haruto said quietly.

Kenji’s eyes widened. “London? As in, running away across continents London?”

“I have work there. Familiar routine. Distance.” Haruto hesitated. “Less… reminders.”

Kenji stared at him for a long moment. Then he laughed.

“Nope.”

Haruto blinked. “No?”

“No,” Kenji repeated firmly. “You’re not allowed to disappear into British rain like a sad romantic novel protagonist.”

Kenji reached into his jacket and pulled out a cream-colored envelope, waving it dramatically.

“What’s that?” Haruto asked.

“Your lifeline,” Kenji declared. “Wedding invitation.”

Haruto raised an eyebrow. “Whose?”

“Our close friend,” Kenji said proudly. “Masato. Remember? The idiot who swore he’d never marry and then proposed after three months?”

Haruto almost smiled. “Masato… right.”

“The wedding is next week,” Kenji continued. “Location: Kamakura. Seaside shrine. Traditional ceremony. Ocean view. Romantic. Dangerous.”

Haruto stared at the invitation. “Why dangerous?”

Kenji smirked. “Because weddings are emotional landmines. Anything can happen. Old feelings. New encounters. Drunken confessions. You know. Your specialty.”

Haruto exhaled, a quiet laugh slipping out despite himself. “You really think this will help?”

Kenji nodded seriously. “I think standing still is killing you. And moving forward doesn’t always mean leaving. Sometimes it means walking into noise again.”

Haruto looked down at the invitation.

Kamakura.

Seaside wind. Temple bells. Crowded trains. Laughter.

Life.

“Alright,” Haruto said finally. “Let’s go.”

Kenji’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit! See? Step nine: never make life-changing decisions alone. Always bring an idiot friend.”

Haruto shook his head. “You’re impossible.”

“Yet essential,” Kenji replied proudly.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the room, Haruto felt something shift inside him. He still missed Sakura. That hadn’t changed.

But maybe fate didn’t work in straight lines.

Maybe it worked in detours.

In canceled weddings.

In unexpected invitations.

In seaside ceremonies where anything could happen.

Kenji clapped him on the shoulder. “Who knows? Maybe fate’s gate is waiting for you in Kamakura.”

Haruto looked at the invitation once more, then folded it carefully.

“Then,” he said quietly, “let’s knock.”

And somewhere, far away, a chaotic girl with an unpolished smile laughed without knowing why.