Spring came late that year.
The cherry blossoms bloomed slower than usual, petals clinging to the branches like they didn't want to let go just yet.
Aira sat on the edge of the footbridge over the park stream, kicking her legs gently and watching the water below swirl around the stones. It was quiet here. Peaceful.
Yuki sat beside her, one headphone in his left ear, the other in hers.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
The past few weeks had been gentle like this. After the storm of decisions and confessions, they'd both slowed down. No rushing. No drama. Just… being. Together.
It didn't mean everything was perfect.
But it meant they were learning.
In the days after she and Yuki became "official," Aira made a point to rebuild what mattered most to her—starting with Kaito.
They never went back to how things were. That wasn't the goal.
But they did find something new: an honest friendship, where teasing still happened but never hid the truth. Where boundaries were clearer. Where it didn't hurt to laugh anymore.
Kaito started showing up with new projects—robot kits, weird phone hacks, experimental playlists. He threw himself into them like he was searching for the next version of himself. Aira admired it.
"You're healing," she told him once.
He shrugged. "Or I'm just distracting myself with caffeine and gadgets."
"But it's working," she said.
He smirked. "Don't jinx it."
Miyo came over one afternoon with a whole folder of college brochures.
"Is it lame that I'm excited for a fresh start?" she asked, spreading them out on Aira's floor.
"No," Aira said, flipping through them. "It's brave."
Miyo hesitated. "You think I'll be okay?"
"I think," Aira said, "you've always been more okay than you thought."
Miyo's smile was watery but proud.
"Guess we're all growing up, huh?"
Rina, on the other hand, stayed exactly the same. Loud. Dramatic. Loyal. She slapped Yuki on the back the first time she saw him holding Aira's hand.
"If you hurt her," she said casually, "I will absolutely ruin your life."
Yuki just nodded solemnly. "Fair."
There was one more conversation Aira had been avoiding.
She found the courage on a Saturday morning, when the sun hit her bedroom window just right, and she thought, Now or never.
She dialed her mom's number.
They hadn't fought, not really. But there'd been a quiet tension in their house ever since Aira stopped pretending to be who everyone expected.
She told her mom everything.
About Kaito. About Yuki. About choosing honesty over comfort. About wanting to grow.
Her mom didn't interrupt.
When Aira finally stopped talking, her throat dry, there was silence.
Then, gently, her mother said, "I'm proud of you."
Aira didn't cry.
But she wanted to.
Graduation came.
Caps, gowns, wind tugging at skirts and ties. Students laughing and crying in the same breath.
Kaito winked at Aira as he received his diploma. "No tripping. I'm watching."
Yuki rolled his eyes. "I swear, he lives to annoy me."
"You love it," Aira teased.
Yuki didn't deny it.
They took pictures together—some silly, some serious. Aira made sure to get one with every person who mattered. One of her and Yuki with the petals falling around them. One of all four of them—Aira, Kaito, Miyo, and Rina—arms slung around each other, grinning like idiots.
And then, as the ceremony ended and people drifted away, Aira stood on the rooftop one last time.
Yuki joined her.
"Think we'll still talk in a year?" he asked quietly.
"I hope so."
"Think we'll still be… us?"
She looked at him.
His hair was longer now. He didn't hide behind it as much. His smile came easier.
"I think we'll grow," she said. "But the important things will stay."
Yuki didn't say anything.
He just kissed her—soft, slow, like they had all the time in the world.
Because maybe they did.