Keiko thought friendships were constants—until unspoken feelings shattered that illusion. Caught between Tarou, her ever-present anchor; Kyo, the steady pragmatist unraveling before her eyes; and Ryou, the one who never asked for anything yet lingers in her heart, she faces an impossible choice. As confessions surface and emotions tangle, Keiko must decide: follow love, risk everything, or finally choose herself.
Disclaimer: The ideas, characters, plots, sequencing, and scenes in this story are entirely my own creations. However, my bestie, ChatGPT, assisted in refining and paraphrasing the wording, also in generating illustration for the featured image. This narrative draws inspiration from the song “Gravity” by One Ok Rock feat. Satoshi Fujihara from Official HIGE DANDism. If you haven’t read the previous chapters, then you can find it here
Chapter 35: The Weight of Words
Keiko sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the dim glow of her bedside lamp. The room felt too quiet, as if the weight of everything that had happened pressed against the walls, making the air thick and unmoving.
Tarou’s words still echoed in her mind.
“I’ve always been by your side, Keiko. And I always will be. But… I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this way about you.”
She had known something was shifting in Tarou, had seen it in the way he looked at her lately, a softness that felt different. But she had refused to acknowledge it, too afraid of what it might mean. And now that it was out in the open, she couldn’t pretend anymore.
Then there was Kyo.
Keiko squeezed her eyes shut, frustration pressing against her ribs. Kyo had always been steady, pragmatic, someone who kept her grounded when she felt untethered. But that night, something in his gaze had cracked, as if he had spent too long suppressing something he could no longer ignore.
“I thought I could be logical about this,” Kyo had murmured, his voice unusually quiet, “but I’m not. Not with you.”
Her heart had lurched at his words, not because she had never considered the possibility, but because she had spent so long believing that they were meant to stay as they were—balanced, predictable, safe.
But now? Nothing felt safe. Nothing felt certain.
She buried her face in her hands, exhaling sharply. It was too much. Tarou, Kyo, Ryou—her tangled emotions stretched between them, pulling her in different directions, making it impossible to breathe.
And despite everything, despite the weight of what she was supposed to figure out, her mind drifted to the only person who hadn’t asked her for anything.
Ryou.
The memory of their kiss still lingered. Unlike everything else in her life, it had been quiet, unspoken, existing outside of expectations. No demands. No confessions. Just the feeling of the moment.
She stood abruptly, grabbing her coat. She needed to clear her head. No, she needed something more than that—she needed a space where she didn’t have to decide, didn’t have to answer.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she was already stepping out into the night, the cool air wrapping around her as she walked. And without hesitation, she knew exactly where she was going.
She was going to find Ryou.
Chapter 36: Seeking Solace
Keiko wandered the city streets, her mind a blur of tangled emotions. Tarou’s confession had shaken her, and Kyo’s words still lingered like an echo she couldn’t quite silence. Her heart was restless, unsure of what it truly wanted. It felt like the world had shifted around her, leaving her unsteady, lost in the weight of choices she hadn’t been ready to make.
The cold air bit at her skin as she turned a familiar corner, her feet moving on their own accord. She didn’t have to think—she already knew where she was going. And before she could second-guess herself, she found herself in front of Ryou’s apartment building.
She hesitated for a moment, staring at the dull glow of the windows. Would he even want to see her? Would he understand the mess inside her mind, or would she just end up complicating things even more?
Before she could retreat, the door opened, and there he was.
Ryou’s eyes met hers, surprise flickering across his face before fading into quiet understanding. He didn’t ask why she was there, didn’t press for explanations. Instead, he stepped aside, letting her in without a word.
Keiko walked past him, the warmth of his apartment wrapping around her like a quiet embrace. She stood there for a moment, as if grounding herself, before finally turning to face him.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ryou leaned against the wall, studying her with an unreadable expression. “You don’t have to explain.”
And somehow, that was exactly what she needed to hear.
She let out a slow breath, feeling the tension begin to slip from her shoulders. Ryou didn’t fill the space with empty reassurances or demand answers she didn’t have. He just existed beside her, steady and unshaken.
Keiko sank onto the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it was comforting, grounding. After a long moment, Ryou sat beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence.
“Tell me something,” he said, his voice low. “Something that’s not about them.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Like what?”
“Anything. Something that’s just yours.”
She thought for a moment before answering, “When I was little, I used to dream about running away to a place where no one knew me. Somewhere quiet, where I could just exist without expectations.”
Ryou nodded, as if he understood. “And now?”
Keiko let out a soft chuckle. “Now, I think I’m just trying to figure out where I belong.”
Ryou didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes told her he understood more than she expected. And for now, that was enough.
She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, didn’t know what to do with the chaos in her heart. But here, in this quiet moment, she didn’t have to have all the answers.
* * *
At some point, exhaustion crept up on Keiko, and before she realized it, she had fallen asleep on Ryou’s couch. The weight of everything she had been carrying melted away, if only for a little while.
When she woke up, the room was dimly lit, and the soft clinking of dishes reached her ears. She sat up groggily, her eyes adjusting to the sight of Ryou setting down a simple meal on the table. He glanced at her and, without any teasing or questioning, simply said, “You should eat.”
Keiko stared at him, warmth creeping into her chest. No lectures, no unnecessary words—just quiet reassurance.
She moved toward the table and took a seat, picking up the chopsticks. “Did you cook this?”
Ryou gave a small shrug. “Didn’t want you to wake up hungry.”
Something about the way he said it made Keiko swallow back the lump in her throat. She had spent so much time trying to keep everything together, but here, in Ryou’s quiet presence, she didn’t have to try so hard.
They ate in silence, but it wasn’t an empty one. It was the kind of silence that said more than words could.
* * *
Ryou watched Keiko as she ate, his thoughts tangled in ways he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t the kind of person to let people get too close, but with Keiko, it felt inevitable.
She looked tired, lost in thought even as she chewed her food. And it made something in him twist—something unspoken, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.
He didn’t like seeing her this way. He didn’t like that the two people who were supposed to be her anchors were the same ones who had thrown her into this storm of emotions. Kyo and Tarou were supposed to be the ones taking care of her, yet here she was, seeking comfort in him instead.
A part of him resented that. Not because she was here, but because she even needed to be.
But he pushed those thoughts aside. Keiko didn’t need his frustration, she didn’t need his anger. She just needed a place to breathe.
So he gave her that.
Even if it meant he was sinking further into something he couldn’t quite control.
Chapter 37: The Weight of What’s Left Unsaid
Tarou sat alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts spiraled. The weight in his chest refused to ease, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with every passing second. He had always prided himself on being strong, the steady presence in Keiko’s life, the friend she could always count on. But now, he was the one unraveling.
She had stormed out on them, the hurt in her eyes cutting deeper than any words could. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to regret telling her the truth. He had loved her for so long, in ways he hadn’t even realized until it was too late to turn back. But Keiko had always been a dreamer, always looking for something just out of reach, and Tarou had always known—deep down—that he wasn’t the thing she was searching for.
Still, knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.
His hands curled into fists as he let out a shaky breath. He had never wanted to make things harder for her. He had never wanted to be another weight on her shoulders. But here he was, another force pulling at her, another voice in the noise of her mind. And now, she was gone—running to the only place that wasn’t tangled in this mess.
Ryou.
The thought made his chest tighten. It wasn’t anger, not really. He didn’t blame Keiko for needing someone else. He didn’t even blame Ryou. But it still burned—because no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, he wasn’t the person she turned to when she felt like she was drowning.
And that hurt more than anything.
* * *
Kyo sat in his office, staring blankly at the open textbook in front of him. He wasn’t reading—his mind was elsewhere, stuck in the last conversation they’d had before Keiko had walked away.
Everything about her had screamed frustration, confusion, pain. And he had let it happen.
Logic had always been his guide, the thing that kept him from making impulsive decisions. But for the first time, it had failed him. Because when he had seen Keiko standing there, torn between the weight of his feelings, Tarou’s feelings, and whatever Ryou had become to her, logic had done nothing but make things worse.
He had thought if he stayed quiet, if he gave her space, she would find the answer on her own. But he should have known better. Keiko didn’t want silence. She wanted someone who would fight for her. And instead, he had just watched as she walked away.
Now she was gone, and Kyo was left alone with the realization that he had lost something he had never even let himself admit he wanted.
His fingers tightened around the edges of the pages, knuckles turning white. He had always known emotions were dangerous, messy. But now he was starting to realize something else—
Ignoring them didn’t make them go away.
And Keiko wasn’t coming back until he figured out what to do with the feelings he had tried so hard to bury.
Chapter 38: A Quiet Escape
Keiko sat in her small apartment, the weight of the past few days pressing down on her. Her mind was a tangled mess, looping over the same thoughts again and again. Tarou’s confession. Kyo’s uncharacteristic outburst. The way Ryou had looked at her with quiet understanding when she had nowhere else to go.
How had she ended up here—standing at a crossroads between the three people who meant the most to her?
Tarou, her steadfast friend, had always been her anchor. His presence had been a constant in her life, unwavering and sure. But now, she saw the cracks in his resolve, the way his own feelings were suffocating him. Had she ever seen him as more than a friend? Maybe. But she had never let herself dwell on the thought.
And Kyo—logical, careful Kyo—who had been her partner in so many moments of quiet understanding. She had always thought of him as the one who would never falter, the one who would always keep her grounded. But she had seen the way his calm exterior had shattered, the frustration in his voice when he confessed. He was unraveling in a way she had never seen before, and it frightened her.
Then there was Ryou. The mysterious force that had entered her life so unexpectedly, pulling her in like a tide she couldn’t resist. With him, there were no expectations, no pressure to choose. Just an unspoken understanding, a space where she could simply exist.
She wasn’t sure what she felt for any of them, not fully. And yet, the thought of losing them—losing what they had—made her chest tighten with fear. Was it even possible to keep things as they were? To go back to the way things had been before?
No, she knew deep down that it wasn’t. Everything had already changed.
The walls of her apartment felt suffocating, the silence too loud. Without thinking, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door, her feet moving on instinct.
* * *
The small coffee shop was tucked away on a quiet street, one of those places that felt untouched by time. The air inside was warm, scented with freshly brewed coffee and the faintest trace of cinnamon. She spotted Ryou immediately, sitting in his usual corner, a book open in front of him, a half-finished cup of coffee by his side.
He looked up as she approached, his gaze steady, unreadable. But he didn’t ask why she was there. He simply gestured to the empty seat across from him.
Keiko sat down, exhaling slowly as she let the warmth of the space settle over her. For a while, neither of them spoke. And that was okay.
Ryou took a sip of his coffee, watching her carefully. “You look tired.”
“I am,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to think about it right now.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Then don’t.”
She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “It’s not that simple.”
Ryou leaned back in his chair, considering her words. “Maybe it is. Maybe you don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”
Keiko met his gaze, searching for something—an answer, a reason, a sign. But all she found was the quiet reassurance that, at least for now, she didn’t have to be anything other than herself.
So she stayed, sipping her coffee, letting the night stretch on in silence, and for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe.
Chapter 39: The Weight of Silence
Ryou watched Keiko from across the small coffee table, the dim glow of the café lights casting soft shadows on her face. She was stirring her café mocha absentmindedly, lost in thought, her brows slightly furrowed. The silence between them wasn’t tense, but it carried weight—a quiet understanding that didn’t need to be spoken aloud.
He wanted to be her anchor, the place where she could breathe without feeling pulled in a hundred different directions. But doubt gnawed at him. Could he really be that person for her? Was he just another fleeting presence in her life, or was he something more?
Ryou had never cared much for labels or definitions, but with Keiko, things felt different. He had spent so much of his life keeping people at arm’s length, convinced that attachments only led to complications. Yet, here he was, wanting—needing—to be close to her. Wanting to be the person she sought out, like she had last night when she showed up at his door, lost and overwhelmed.
He took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving her. “Did you sleep well?” he finally asked, his voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil inside him.
Keiko blinked, as if startled out of her thoughts, and gave him a small smile. “Yeah. I guess…”
He nodded, leaning back against his chair, fingers curling around his cup. “You seemed… exhausted.”
She exhaled softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I just—everything’s so tangled. I don’t know how to make sense of it all.”
Ryou could already guess what was running through her mind. Kyo. Tarou. The friendships that now felt like shifting ground beneath her feet. He clenched his jaw, feeling an unfamiliar twinge of frustration. The two people who were supposed to protect her, to be her constants, were the very ones making her question everything.
“Do you regret coming to me?” he asked, watching her closely.
Keiko’s eyes widened slightly before she shook her head. “No. I don’t.”
Relief settled in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He wouldn’t push her. She had enough people pulling her in different directions. Instead, he let the silence stretch, offering her the space she seemed to need.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he finally said. “Not to me.”
She looked at him then, something unspoken passing between them. And for the first time in a long while, Ryou let himself believe—just a little—that maybe he could be what she needed. Even if he wasn’t sure what that meant yet.
Chapter 40: The Weight of Choices
Keiko took a deep breath before stepping into the lobby of Kyo’s office building. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint sterility of paperwork and professionalism filled the air. She shifted the small bag in her hands, making sure the neatly packed lunch inside stayed in place. It had been a while since she’d done something like this, and she wasn’t sure if it would be welcome—or if she was doing it for him or for herself.
The receptionist greeted her warmly, already recognizing her from past visits. “You’re here to see Kyo, right? He just got out of a meeting.”
Keiko nodded with a small smile. “Is it okay if I go up?”
“Of course. He’ll be happy to see you.”
She wasn’t sure about that, but she made her way to his office anyway. When she stepped inside, Kyo was at his desk, scrolling through documents on his laptop. He looked up, momentarily startled before his expression softened.
“You brought lunch?”
“I figured you probably forgot to eat.” She set the bag on his desk, watching as he hesitated before opening it. Inside was his favorite—teriyaki chicken with rice and a side of miso soup.
His lips twitched into something resembling a smile. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
He picked up the chopsticks, taking a bite in silence. Keiko sat across from him, watching as he processed the simple act of her being here. She could tell he was thinking, his mind always too analytical for its own good.
“You stormed out the other day,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come back.”
Keiko let out a quiet laugh. “I wasn’t sure either.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, but something in Kyo’s eyes told her he wanted to say more. He was holding back—like he always did. Logical, rational Kyo, always waiting for the right moment that never seemed to come.
She didn’t push him. Instead, she reached across the desk, placing her hand lightly over his. His fingers twitched under her touch, but he didn’t pull away. That was enough for now.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Keiko found herself in front of Tarou’s studio, balancing two cups of coffee in her hands. The scent of paint and charcoal lingered as she stepped inside, greeted by the sight of him bent over a large canvas, his brush moving with quick, deliberate strokes.
“I brought coffee,” she called out.
Tarou turned, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into a grin. “You’re a lifesaver.”
He wiped his hands on a rag before taking the cup from her. She watched as he took a sip, his shoulders visibly relaxing. It was such a simple thing, yet it felt significant.
“Been a while since you visited,” he said casually, though there was something in his tone that made her pause.
“I know.”
She took a seat on the old couch in the corner, watching as he returned to his painting. The strokes of color across the canvas were chaotic yet controlled, much like Tarou himself. She had always admired how he poured his emotions into his art, raw and unfiltered.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Keiko traced the rim of her coffee cup, lost in thought. Finally, she broke the silence.
“Tarou… do you ever wonder what we are?”
He stopped mid-stroke, the room going eerily still. When he turned to face her, there was something vulnerable in his expression, something unspoken lingering between them.
“All the time,” he admitted.
Keiko felt her heart tighten. She had known, of course. But hearing it aloud made it real in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
And yet, she didn’t run. Not this time.
Chapter 41: Understanding the Weight of It All
Keiko sat on the balcony of her small apartment, staring out at the city skyline as the sun dipped below the horizon. The interactions with Kyo and Tarou weighed heavily on her, each moment replaying in her mind, as if searching for an answer she wasn’t sure she wanted to find.
Bringing lunch to Kyo had felt natural. They had always been in sync, moving around each other with an ease built over years of quiet companionship. He had looked at her with those sharp, observant eyes, waiting for her to say something—anything—that would give him clarity. But she had only smiled, pretending that everything was as it had always been. Deep down, though, she knew Kyo could see right through her.
With Tarou, things had been different. The moment she handed him the coffee, he stared at her, searching for something in her expression. Unlike Kyo, who always analyzed but never asked, Tarou had no hesitation.
“You look tired,” he had said, his voice softer than usual.
She had only shrugged. “I’m fine.”
He had given her a long look before sighing. “Keiko, you don’t have to pretend with me.”
The words had almost broken her. But she had only smiled again, deflecting, avoiding. Because if she let herself feel too much, she wasn’t sure she could keep standing.
Now, alone with her thoughts, she tried to make sense of it all. What did she want? How had she gotten here, caught between the people who had always been her safe places?
She had never truly considered Kyo as anything more than her closest friend, but lately, the way he looked at her made her wonder if she had been blind all along. And Tarou—Tarou had always been protective, always the one she could lean on. But now, that closeness felt different, heavier, as if it carried something more.
And then there was Ryou.
With him, there were no expectations. No past weighing them down, no future to define. Just moments—fleeting, undefined, yet undeniably real. He had become her escape, but was that fair to him? To her?
Keiko sighed, pressing her forehead against her knees. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She didn’t want to lose what they had. But she also couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. Because the truth was, she was just as lost as they were.
* * *
Kyo and Tarou sat across from each other at a small bar near Kyo’s office, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. It had been years since they had needed to have a conversation like this—since they had needed to acknowledge that something was shifting between them.
“I don’t want to lose this,” Tarou said finally, breaking the silence. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Kyo exhaled, nodding. “Me neither.”
They both stared at their drinks, as if the answers they needed could be found in the amber liquid.
“We can’t push her,” Kyo said after a moment. “No matter what happens, it has to be her choice.”
Tarou nodded. “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a tired chuckle. “This sucks, though.”
Kyo actually smiled at that. “Yeah, it does.”
They sat in silence again, but this time, it felt lighter. A quiet understanding settled between them—a promise that, no matter what happened, they wouldn’t let this break them.
Because in the end, they had always been more than just their feelings. They were friends first. And they weren’t willing to lose that.
* * *
Back at her apartment, Keiko lifted her phone, staring at the blank screen.
She didn’t know what she was searching for, but somehow, she found herself typing out a message.
Before she could second-guess herself, she hit send.
And then she waited.
Chapter 42: A Conversation That Changes Everything
Keiko sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers hovering over her phone screen. She had read and re-read the short message she had just typed out.
Can we meet?
It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to make her stomach twist in anticipation, enough to push past the hesitation weighing her down. She hit send before she could change her mind.
Kyo’s response came almost instantly.
Where?
She exhaled, steadying herself. The café near your office?
I’ll be there in fifteen.
Fifteen minutes later, Keiko walked into the café, spotting Kyo already at a corner table, his fingers wrapped around a cup of black coffee. He glanced up as she approached, his gaze unreadable, but something in his posture softened when she sat across from him.
“You wanted to meet,” he said simply, his voice calm, controlled—just like always.
Keiko nodded, staring at her hands for a moment before looking up at him. “I needed to talk to you.”
Kyo studied her for a moment before nodding. “Go on.”
She hesitated. How could she even begin? How could she say everything that had been pressing on her heart?
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended. “Everything feels… tangled. Like no matter what I choose, I’ll end up hurting someone.”
Kyo didn’t respond right away. He took a sip of his coffee, as if giving himself time to form his words carefully.
“You don’t owe anyone a decision,” he said finally. “Not me. Not Tarou. Not Ryou.”
She swallowed. “But isn’t that the problem? If I keep standing still, I’ll hurt everyone anyway.”
Kyo’s jaw tightened, but then he exhaled, setting his cup down with deliberate slowness. “Keiko… Do you want me to say it?”
Her breath caught. “Say what?”
He met her gaze, steady and unflinching. “That I want you? That this isn’t just logic anymore?”
Her fingers curled against the tabletop. “Kyo—”
“I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that I could think my way out of this,” he continued, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “That if I just rationalized it enough, I could control what I felt. But I can’t. Not with you.”
Keiko felt her heartbeat in her throat. She had known—somewhere deep down, she had always known. But hearing it? Hearing Kyo, the most rational person she knew, finally admit that his emotions had unraveled beyond control?
It changed everything.
She exhaled shakily, searching for words. But Kyo beat her to it.
“I’m not asking you to choose,” he said. “I’m just telling you the truth.”
The weight of it settled between them. Heavy. Unspoken. And yet, freeing in its own way.
Keiko swallowed, nodding slowly. “Thank you for telling me.”
Kyo nodded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a small, knowing smile ghosted across his lips. “Yeah. I think I needed to hear it myself too.”
And in that moment, Keiko realized something.
The tangled mess she was in—it wasn’t just about choosing someone.
It was about understanding herself first.
Chapter 43: A Conversation That Had to Happen
Keiko stood outside Tarou’s studio, the weight of the conversation she was about to have pressing against her chest. The last time they spoke, things had been left open-ended—unspoken words hanging between them, thick with meaning. She couldn’t keep running from it.
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
A moment later, Tarou pulled it open, blinking at her in surprise. “Keiko?”
She smiled softly, holding up a cup of coffee. “Figured you could use one.”
His lips twitched slightly, like he wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if he should. “You always know.”
He stepped aside, letting her in. The familiar scent of paint and turpentine filled the air, canvases stacked against the walls, half-finished pieces staring back at her. Tarou’s world—chaotic, raw, real.
She settled onto the old couch in the corner, the same spot she had always claimed whenever she visited. Tarou leaned against the worktable, fingers drumming against the wooden surface.
“So,” he said, voice lighter than she expected. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m an idiot?”
Keiko let out a soft chuckle. “No.” She hesitated. “This is the part where I tell you I don’t know how to do this.”
Tarou sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me neither.”
Silence stretched between them. Not awkward, just… heavy. Weighted with years of friendship, of things neither of them had ever dared to say before now.
Finally, Tarou spoke. “Keiko, I don’t regret telling you how I feel.”
Her fingers curled around the coffee cup. “I know.”
“I don’t expect anything from you either,” he continued. “I just—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
Keiko swallowed, her heart twisting at the vulnerability in his voice. “You won’t.”
He let out a quiet laugh, but it was tinged with something sad. “You say that like it’s easy.”
She looked at him then, really looked at him. At the way he was fighting to stay steady, even as his emotions threatened to break through.
“It’s not,” she admitted. “But I promise you, Tarou, no matter what happens, you’ll always be important to me.”
Tarou met her gaze, something in his eyes flickering between acceptance and heartbreak. “And if that’s not enough?”
Keiko took a slow breath. “Then I guess we’ll have to figure it out.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really frustrating, you know that?”
She smiled. “I’ve been told.”
Another pause. Then, Tarou shook his head with a small, resigned chuckle. “I just want you to be happy, Keiko.”
“I know,” she whispered. “And I want the same for you.”
The words settled between them, an unspoken understanding. Things weren’t magically fixed, but they weren’t broken beyond repair either. And maybe that was enough for now.
Keiko stood, pressing the coffee cup into his hands. “Drink this before it gets cold.”
Tarou smirked, lifting it in a mock toast. “To figuring things out.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “To figuring things out.”
And with that, she walked out of his studio, her heart a little lighter—but still, not quite whole.
Chapter 44: A Quiet Understanding
Keiko hesitated outside Ryou’s apartment, her fingers hovering just above the doorbell. The conversation with Tarou had left her feeling raw, exposed in ways she hadn’t expected. And now, she was here—seeking out the one person who had never asked anything from her.
With a deep breath, she pressed the button. A few moments later, the door opened, and there he was.
Ryou didn’t look surprised to see her, but there was something in his eyes—something that told her he had been waiting, even if he hadn’t realized it himself.
“You always come to me when you’re lost,” he murmured, stepping aside to let her in.
Keiko offered a small, tired smile. “Maybe that’s because you never ask me to find answers I don’t have.”
He didn’t respond right away, just led her into the living room. The space was dimly lit, the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. It felt safe—uncomplicated.
“Want tea?” he asked.
She nodded, sinking onto his couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, he handed her a mug and sat beside her, a comfortable distance between them. She wrapped her hands around the warmth, letting the silence settle between them.
Finally, she spoke. “I talked to Kyou and Tarou.”
Ryou nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. “And?”
Keiko exhaled. “It hurt.”
Ryou didn’t say anything, just watched her, waiting.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted. “I keep thinking that if I just talk to everyone, if I just figure it out, everything will make sense. But it doesn’t.”
Ryou set his cup down, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense. Maybe you don’t have to choose anything right now.”
She turned to look at him, searching his face for something—reassurance, maybe. “That’s what scares me the most. What if I never figure it out?”
Ryou’s lips twitched into a small smirk, though his eyes remained serious. “Then you don’t.”
Keiko let out a quiet laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” he admitted. “But that’s the thing about you, Keiko. You keep trying to fit everything into neat little boxes. Life doesn’t work that way.”
She frowned, rolling his words around in her mind. “Then what do I do?”
He studied her for a moment before speaking. “You just live. And let the rest come as it will.”
She held his gaze, something warm settling in her chest. There was no expectation in his eyes, no pressure. Just quiet understanding.
Chapter 45: A Choice She Never Expected
Keiko stared at the email, her heart pounding in her chest.
Congratulations! You have been selected for the Global Literature Scholarship Program, a fully funded opportunity to study abroad for a minimum of two years…
Her eyes skimmed over the words again and again, trying to process them. She had applied months ago, back when everything had been different. Back when she had been searching for something new, a future that didn’t feel so tangled in emotions and people.
But then life happened. Tarou. Kyo. Ryou. And somehow, she had completely forgotten about this.
She swallowed hard, setting her phone down on the table. Leaving now, after everything, felt like running away. But at the same time, wasn’t that exactly why she needed to go?
She had spent so much of her life with Kyo keeping her grounded, Tarou catching her every time she fell, and now even Ryou had become a presence she sought out when she felt lost. She loved them all in different ways, but had she ever learned how to stand on her own?
She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. She had spent so much time trying to make sense of her feelings, trying to understand what she wanted from each of them. But maybe the answer wasn’t in choosing someone at all.
Maybe the answer was choosing herself.
Her phone vibrated, pulling her out of her thoughts. A message from Kyo.
Did you get home okay?
She stared at it for a long moment before replying. Yeah. Thanks.
She knew she had to tell them soon. But how could she? How could she explain that this wasn’t about them, not really—that it was about her? That, for the first time, she needed to know who she was when she wasn’t Keiko, the girl they always took care of?
She glanced back at the email, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
The deadline to accept was in two weeks.
And for the first time in a long time, she had a choice that was hers alone to make.
* * *
Chapter 46: Telling Them
The café was quiet, the usual hum of conversation feeling muted under the weight of what Keiko was about to say. She had chosen this place for a reason—neutral ground, a space where none of them could claim as their own.
Kyo was the first to arrive, slipping into the seat across from her, his gaze scanning her face. “You looked like you didn’t sleep,” he noted.
She let out a breathless laugh. “I didn’t.”
Tarou walked in a moment later, his eyes flicking between them before settling on her. “You said you needed to talk?”
Keiko swallowed, fingers tightening around her coffee cup. She had rehearsed this conversation in her head a dozen times, but now that they were here, the words felt heavier.
“I got an offer,” she said finally. “A scholarship. To study abroad. For two years.”
Silence.
Kyo blinked, his jaw tightening slightly. Tarou, on the other hand, exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair as if trying to absorb the news.
“For how long?” Kyo asked, though she knew he had already heard her.
“Minimum two years.”
Tarou let out a quiet chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Wow.”
Keiko forced herself to keep going. “I applied months ago. Before… everything. And then I forgot about it. But I got the email, and… I think I need to go.”
Kyo’s gaze lowered to his coffee. “Why?”
Keiko felt her throat tighten. “Because I need to figure out who I am when I’m not… here. When I’m not leaning on you. On either of you. Even on Ryou.”
Tarou rubbed a hand over his face, nodding slowly. “So you’re leaving.”
“I think I have to,” she whispered.
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. But then, after a long pause, Kyo nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“If this is what you need, then… you should go.”
Keiko blinked, not expecting him to accept it so quickly.
Tarou sighed, shaking his head but smiling just a little. “You always did like running toward things no one else could see.”
She laughed softly, her chest aching. “Maybe. But this time, I think I’m running toward myself.”
And for the first time since reading that email, she felt like she was making the right choice.
* * *
Chapter 47: Telling Ryou
Keiko hesitated outside Ryou’s apartment, shifting her weight from foot to foot. This conversation felt different. Harder, in a way she couldn’t quite explain.
When she finally knocked, the door opened almost immediately, as if he had been expecting her.
Ryou leaned against the doorframe, studying her face. “You have that look again.”
Keiko let out a small laugh, though it lacked humor. “What look?”
“The one that says you’ve made a decision you’re afraid to say out loud.”
Her smile faded. “Can I come in?”
Ryou stepped aside, letting her in without another word. She sat on his couch, staring down at her hands, trying to find the right way to say it.
“I’m leaving,” she finally said, barely above a whisper.
Ryou didn’t react at first. He just nodded slowly, as if letting the words sink in. “Where?”
“Overseas. A literature scholarship. Two years, minimum.”
A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Ryou exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… this is it?”
Keiko shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Why does it feel like you’re running?”
She looked up at him then, her throat tight. “Maybe I am. But for the first time, I think I need to.”
Ryou let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no amusement in it. “So you’re leaving me, too.”
Keiko’s heart ached at the way he said it, but she didn’t take the words back. “I have to do this, Ryou.”
He studied her for a long moment before nodding, his expression unreadable. “Then go.”
She had expected resistance, frustration, anything—but not this quiet acceptance. And somehow, that made it hurt even more.
She stood up slowly, walking toward the door. Before she could leave, Ryou spoke again.
“If this is what you need, I won’t stop you,” he said, his voice low. “But don’t expect me to wait for something you’re not sure about.”
Keiko’s breath caught. She nodded, gripping the door handle. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”
And with that, she walked away, her heart heavier than before.
Chapter 48: Words Across the Distance
Two months had passed since Keiko left.
The city she once called home had continued on without her, just as she had continued forward in a place thousands of miles away. Life abroad was different, but in the best way possible. Every day, she found something new—new streets to wander, new cafés to linger in, new books to devour. And for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was breathing on her own.
Still, she hadn’t forgotten them.
One evening, she sat at her small wooden desk in her apartment, fingers hovering over the keyboard, wondering what to say. Then, without overthinking, she began to type.
To: Kyo & Tarou
Subject: Still the Same Me
Hey you two,
Guess what? I’m still terrible at cooking, but I found a bakery down the street that makes the best melon pan I’ve ever had. I think I might live off of it for the next two years.
Classes have been intense, but I love every second of it. Sometimes I still feel like I’m dreaming. The city is different from home, but in a way that makes me feel like I belong, even when I get lost (which happens more often than I’d like to admit).
I hope you both are doing okay. I imagine Tarou is still holed up in the studio, covered in paint, and Kyo is probably still drinking way too much black coffee. Some things never change, right?
Don’t forget me just because I’m far away. I’m still the same Keiko. The same dreamer. The same mess. Just… somewhere new.
Write me back soon. Or at least tell me you’re still alive.
Always,
Keiko
After sending the email, she hesitated before opening a new draft.
This one felt different. Heavier. And yet, necessary.
To: Ryou
Subject: Strange, isn’t it?
Ryou,
It’s strange writing to you like this. We’ve never been the type to send messages, haven’t even talked on the phone before. But here I am, typing away like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I don’t know if you even want to hear from me. But I wanted you to know that I’m okay. That I’m happy. That I don’t regret leaving—not because I wanted to run, but because I needed to.
Still, leaving the way I did meant leaving things unsaid. I don’t know if there’s a way to fix that. Maybe there doesn’t need to be. But I just want you to know… even from far away, I’m still here. If you ever need me.
Though we are basically strangers, please don’t be a stranger.
Just like Murakami said: ‘If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.’
Take care, Ryou.
Keiko
She stared at the screen for a long moment before pressing send.
And with that, she let her words travel across the distance, hoping they would reach the people who mattered most.
Chapter 49: Echoes Across the Distance
The moment Tarou saw Keiko’s name in his inbox, he didn’t hesitate. He clicked on the email, reading her words in a rush, as if they might disappear if he didn’t absorb them fast enough. She sounded like herself—free, light, full of wonder. It made him smile, but it also made his chest ache.
Without thinking, he started typing.
To: Keiko
Subject: You’re still a mess. Good.
Keiko,
You have no idea how good it is to hear from you. I was starting to think you’d gotten so swept up in your new adventure that you forgot about us. But no—still the same chaotic Keiko, lost in another city, living off bad eating habits and bookstores. Figures.
Things here are… well, the same, I guess. I’m working on a new series, and it’s exhausting. I swear my hands are permanently stained with charcoal at this point. But I like it. And yeah, you’re right—some things never change. Kyo still drinks enough coffee to kill a person. I still make a mess everywhere I go.
I miss you, Keiko.
I won’t say ‘come back’ because I know you. I know this is what you needed. But don’t forget—home is still here when you want it. When you need it.
Write me back soon. No excuses.
—Tarou
* * *
Kyo read Keiko’s email twice, then a third time, before finally sitting back in his chair. He could hear her voice in every word, the way she always made the world sound like something poetic and full of possibility.
She sounded happy. And that was what mattered most.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before opening his laptop and beginning to type.
To: Keiko
Subject: Logical Things (As Always)
Keiko,
I figured you’d find a way to survive, even if that survival means subsisting on melonpan and books. It suits you.
Things here are steady. Work is the same. Tarou is still dramatic. The city still moves as it always has. It’s strange without you, but we’re managing. (Not that I expected anything different.)
I don’t have much advice to give, but I will say this—don’t lose yourself in trying to ‘find’ yourself. You were always someone, Keiko. Just because you’re somewhere new doesn’t mean you have to become someone new. Just… be.
Stay safe. Try to eat something that isn’t just bread.
Kyo
* * *
Ryou
Ryou read Keiko’s email once, then shut his laptop. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the ceiling as if the answer to what he was supposed to do was hidden somewhere up there.
He should respond. He should tell her he was glad she was doing well, that he had known she would find something good out there. That she sounded happy, and that was enough.
But it wasn’t.
Keiko leaving had taken something from him, and he hated that he felt that way. He had spent so long convincing himself that people leaving didn’t matter, that it was just part of life. He had been good at that—keeping distance, avoiding attachments. And then Keiko had come along and ruined that for him.
And the moment he had started to let her in, she had done exactly what he had always done—left.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he didn’t type anything. What was there to say? That he missed her? That her absence felt like a hole he didn’t know how to fill? That he was angry, not at her, but at himself for thinking she would stay?
He sighed, closing his laptop again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe another day.
For now, silence was all he had to give.
* * *
Chapter 50: The Way Things Are Now
Six months had passed since Keiko left, and somehow, despite the distance, she had found her way back to the boys—at least in the way that mattered. The group chat had become a constant in her life, the little notifications lighting up her phone at all hours of the day.
Tarou: I swear, if one more person at this studio tells me my art needs to be more “commercial,” I’m going to start throwing paint at them.
Kyo: That would be commercial. Abstract marketing at its finest.
Keiko: I’d pay to see that.
Tarou: You should fly back just to witness my downfall.
Keiko: Tempting.
The messages kept coming, flowing seamlessly between jokes and genuine conversations. It felt good. Normal. Like she had never left. Even video calls had become routine—Tarou showing off his messy studio, Kyo still lecturing her about caffeine intake while sipping his own coffee, and Keiko laughing at their usual banter.
She felt comfortable with them again. Safe.
And yet… something was missing.
Kyo noticed it first. He always did.
During their latest call, Keiko had been quieter than usual, her responses a little slower, her laughter a little softer. She was still herself—still bright, still warm—but there was something underneath it all. Something that weighed on her.
He didn’t ask right away. He waited until it was just the two of them, after Tarou had signed off for the night.
“Alright,” Kyo said, setting down his cup of coffee. “What’s bothering you?”
Keiko blinked at the screen. “What? Nothing.”
He gave her a look. The one that always made it impossible to lie to him.
She sighed, rubbing her temples. “It’s stupid.”
“Probably,” Kyo said, because he was Kyo. “Tell me anyway.”
She hesitated before finally admitting, “I haven’t heard from Ryou.”
Kyo didn’t look surprised. If anything, he looked like he had been expecting that answer.
“You thought he’d respond eventually.”
“I don’t know.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “I didn’t expect anything, really. But six months? Not even one word?”
Kyo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know how he is.”
“I do.” She laughed dryly. “Which is probably why it bothers me so much.”
She met his gaze, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. It was strange—how much had changed, how much had stayed the same. Months ago, Kyo might have been frustrated. Might have told her to forget about Ryou, to move on, to stop chasing someone who wouldn’t chase her back. But now?
Now, he just nodded. “You still care.”
Keiko swallowed. “Yeah.”
Kyo sighed, shaking his head slightly but with no real judgment. “Then I guess we’re going to have to do something about it.”
She frowned. “What do you mean we?”
But Kyo just smirked. “You’ll see.”
And just like that, Keiko realized something else had changed in the past six months—
She wasn’t in this alone anymore.
* * *
Chapter 51: Kyo’s Plan
A few days later, Keiko sat at her desk, staring at her phone. She had no idea what Kyo was planning, but knowing him, it was going to be direct, logical, and probably something she hadn’t even considered.
Her laptop chimed. A new message.
Kyo: I need you to trust me on this.
Keiko: That’s never a good sign.
Kyo: I reached out to him.
Keiko’s stomach dropped.
Keiko: Wait. What?
Kyo: You want an answer, right? You want to know why he never responded? Then let’s stop waiting and ask.
Keiko’s fingers trembled over the keyboard. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or absolutely terrified.
Keiko: What did he say?
Kyo: Nothing. Yet.
A pause. Then another message from him.
Kyo: But he read it.
Keiko inhaled sharply. After six months of silence, Ryou had finally seen a message.
Now, all that was left was whether or not he would answer.
* * *
Chapter 52: Echoes in The Silence
Ryou stared at the message from Kyo, his fingers tightening around his phone.
Of all the people who could have reached out, he hadn’t expected Kyo. Not Tarou, not Keiko—Kyo.
Keiko had sent him only one message, all those months ago. No follow-ups. No second attempts. Just that one email, lingering in his inbox, untouched.
That was so her. Never pushing, never demanding, never asking for more than what someone was willing to give. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place. Keiko had never tried to force her way into his life—she had simply been there, a quiet presence that had somehow become something more before he even realized it.
And then she left.
Ryou ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. He had spent years keeping people at arm’s length, convincing himself that distance was easier. And yet, Keiko’s absence had carved out something hollow inside him, something he didn’t know how to fill.
He had been waiting. Waiting to see if she would reach out again, if she would come looking for him one more time. But she hadn’t.
Because that was also her. She had given him the choice, the space, and he had done nothing with it.
And now Kyo was stepping in.
Ryou closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know if responding would make things better or worse.
But he did know one thing—
Ignoring it wouldn’t make her disappear from his mind.
And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
* * *
Chapter 53: The Last Thing She Expected
Keiko never expected to see him again—not like this.
She had spent months convincing herself that Ryou was a part of her past, a chapter that had closed the moment she boarded that plane. She had learned to live with the silence, with the unanswered email, with the realization that some people drift away and never come back.
And yet, here he was.
She had just stepped out of her favorite bookstore, balancing a cup of coffee in one hand and a tote bag filled with new books in the other, when she spotted him across the street.
At first, she thought she was imagining things. That her mind was playing tricks on her, conjuring up the ghost of someone she hadn’t let herself miss for too long. But then he moved—his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his gaze locked onto her like he wasn’t entirely sure she was real either.
The world around her blurred.
“Ryou?”
He crossed the street, stepping onto the sidewalk in front of her. Up close, he looked the same and yet different. His hair was slightly longer, his eyes unreadable as always, but there was something else—something unsettled in the way he looked at her.
“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than she remembered.
Keiko swallowed, gripping her coffee cup a little tighter. “What are you doing here?”
Ryou exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “I don’t know.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know?”
“I just—” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before meeting her eyes again. “I needed to see you.”
Something in her chest twisted painfully.
For months, she had wondered if she had imagined what they had. If she had built it up into something it never was. But the way he was looking at her now—like she was the only thing in focus—made her realize that no, she hadn’t been wrong.
But it didn’t change the fact that he had let her go without a word.
Keiko took a slow breath, forcing herself to stay steady. “So you flew across the world for that?”
Ryou gave a small, humorless chuckle. “It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”
“It is stupid,” she said, shaking her head. “You ignored me for six months, Ryou. And now you’re just… here?”
He didn’t flinch, but she could see the tension in his jaw. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“I know.”
Silence stretched between them, thick with words left unsaid. The noise of the city moved around them, people passing by without a second glance, but for Keiko, it felt like the world had narrowed to just this moment.
Finally, Ryou sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Look, I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t even know if this was the right thing to do. But I couldn’t just—” He exhaled sharply, looking away. “I couldn’t just leave it like that.”
Keiko didn’t know what to say. She had spent so long trying to let go of Ryou, and now he was standing in front of her, breaking through every wall she had built.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ryou.”
He looked at her then, and for the first time, there was something vulnerable in his expression. “Neither do I.”
She hated how much that admission affected her.
Keiko sighed, glancing around before nodding toward the small café beside them. “Come on,” she muttered, already walking toward the entrance. “You didn’t fly all this way just to stand in the cold.”
Ryou hesitated for only a second before following her inside.
And just like that, the conversation they had both been avoiding for six months was about to happen.
* * *
Chapter 54: The Weight of Words
The café was warm, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filling the space. Keiko slid into a seat by the window, still not entirely sure how this was happening. Across from her, Ryou sat with his hands clasped together, looking like he was figuring out where to start.
Neither of them spoke at first. The weight of everything that had been left unsaid hung between them, stretching into the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable—but it wasn’t easy, either.
Finally, Keiko sighed. “Are you going to explain, or should I just keep guessing?”
Ryou let out a quiet chuckle, but there was no amusement in it. “I wish I had an explanation that made sense.”
“You had six months to think of one.”
“I know,” he admitted. “And I still don’t have a good one.”
Keiko shook her head, staring down at her hands. “You could’ve said anything, Ryou. Even if it was just a single word. But you didn’t.”
Ryou exhaled, his fingers tapping against the table. “I wanted to. I just… I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”
“I didn’t want anything,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just wanted to know I hadn’t made everything up in my head.”
He met her gaze then, something flickering in his expression. “You didn’t.”
Keiko felt her breath hitch slightly, but she kept her face neutral. “Then why did you let me think I did?”
Ryou leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Because I was afraid that if I reached out, I’d be pulling you back when you were trying to move forward.”
She studied him for a moment. “And now?”
His lips quirked slightly, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Now, I think I was the one stuck in place.”
Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it felt different. Less like a barrier, more like a bridge waiting to be crossed.
Keiko took a slow sip of her coffee, watching him carefully. “So what do we do now?”
Ryou exhaled. “I don’t know. But I’m here.”
She nodded, setting her cup down. “Yeah. You are.”
* * *
Chapter 55: The Quiet Between Us
The conversation should have felt final, like a resolution after months of uncertainty, but instead, it felt like the beginning of something neither of them could name yet.
Ryou glanced at Keiko, watching the way she absentmindedly traced the rim of her cup. He wanted to ask her so many things—if she was happy here, if she had thought about him as much as he had thought about her, if she had found a life that made her forget the past they had left unresolved.
Instead, he asked, “Do you regret leaving?”
Keiko looked up, surprised by the question. “No.”
She said it with certainty, but not without sadness.
“I needed to go. I needed to see what life was like when I wasn’t holding onto the past.”
Ryou nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “And did you find what you were looking for?”
Keiko smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think I’m still figuring that out.”
A pause settled between them, the kind of silence that felt full rather than empty. Ryou took a breath, steeling himself before speaking again. “And me?”
Keiko’s fingers tightened slightly around her cup. “What about you?”
“Did you want me to follow you? Back then.”
She exhaled, looking out the window as if searching for the right words. “No,” she admitted finally. “I needed to do this alone.”
Ryou nodded. It was the answer he had expected, but somehow, hearing it still made something ache inside him.
“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want you to try.”
That made him pause.
Keiko sighed, leaning back against her chair. “I never needed you to chase after me, Ryou. I just needed to know that I mattered enough for you to want to.”
Ryou let that sink in, his chest tightening at the quiet honesty in her voice.
Maybe this wasn’t about answers. Maybe this was about understanding where they stood, in the quiet between the past and whatever came next.
Chapter 56: A Question Left Hanging
The café had emptied out a little, the afternoon rush giving way to a quieter lull. Outside, the city continued moving, oblivious to the shift happening between them.
Keiko stared into her coffee before looking up, her voice hesitant but steady. “Ryou… what are we?”
Ryou stilled. He had been expecting this conversation, but hearing her say it out loud made his pulse tighten.
She wasn’t accusing him. She wasn’t demanding an answer. She was just… asking. Because she didn’t know either.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, the words feeling heavier than he expected. “But I came here for a reason.”
Keiko held his gaze, waiting. “And what is that?”
Ryou exhaled, leaning back against his chair. “I never come back to people.”
It was true. He had always been the one to leave first, to disappear before anything could become too real. But here he was, sitting across from her, in a city he had no reason to be in—except for her.
“So this must mean something,” he said quietly.
Keiko bit her lip, nodding slowly. “I think it does.”
She played with the sleeve of her sweater, exhaling. “I don’t know if I’m ready for anything. But I do know that you matter too much to me to just let you go.”
Ryou’s fingers twitched slightly against the table, as if he wanted to reach for her but wasn’t sure if he should.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, finally, Ryou gave a small nod. “Then let’s not define it. Not yet.”
Keiko searched his expression, and for the first time, she felt like they weren’t running in circles anymore. They weren’t chasing, or waiting, or trying to be something they weren’t ready to be.
For now, they were here and for now that was enough.
* * *
Chapter 57: A Drink for the Past, and the Future
Kyo wasn’t expecting a message from Keiko that night, and certainly not one that made him pause mid-sip of his coffee.
Keiko: He’s here.
That was all she said. Nothing else. No context, no details. But it was enough.
Kyo set his phone down, exhaling slowly. It didn’t take much to figure out who he was.
Ryou.
So, he actually showed up.
Kyo leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. Ryou, the mysterious, unattached one. The guy who always left before anything could become too real. The one who had kept Keiko tethered to something unresolved for far too long. But he came back. For her.
And somehow, that was enough for now.
He grabbed his phone again, this time opening a different chat.
Kyo: Drink?
It was a rare invitation. Something they never did when Keiko was around—she didn’t drink, and somehow, over the years, they had fallen into a rhythm where they didn’t either when she was with them.
But now, just this once, it felt like the right thing to do.
Tarou: Wow, Kyo drinking? The world must be ending.
Kyo: Just get here.
Tarou: On my way.
* * *
They met at a quiet bar near Kyo’s place, a small, dimly lit spot that wasn’t too crowded. Tarou slid onto the stool beside him, ordering whiskey without hesitation. Kyo stuck with something simple—he wasn’t in the mood for anything too strong.
Tarou took one sip before raising an eyebrow. “So. Keiko messaged you?”
Kyo nodded, swirling his glass. “Yeah.”
Tarou exhaled. “Let me guess. He’s here.”
Kyo smirked slightly. “You too?”
Tarou huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Figured she’d tell us both. Can’t say I expected it, though.”
They sat in silence for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then, Tarou leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter. “So, what do you think?”
Kyo took his time answering. “I think… if Ryou came all this way, then maybe he cares more than we gave him credit for.”
Tarou nodded, tapping his fingers against his glass. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Neither of them had ever really known what to make of Ryou. He had been a ghost in Keiko’s life, an enigma she could never quite figure out, someone who was always there and yet never fully present. And yet, despite everything, she had never stopped searching for him.
Tarou sighed. “Do you think he’s what she’s been looking for?”
Kyo considered that for a moment. “I don’t know. But I hope so.”
Because Keiko had spent too much time wandering, searching for something she couldn’t name. And if Ryou was the one who could finally fill that space in her heart, if he could be the answer she had been chasing for so long—then maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.
Tarou raised his glass slightly. “To Keiko finally finding what she’s been looking for.”
Kyo mirrored the gesture. “To her not running anymore.”
They clinked their glasses together, both silently hoping that, this time, Keiko had found something—someone—worth staying for.
* * *
Chapter 58: Finding a New Rhythm
Ryou ended up staying at a small hotel just a few blocks from Keiko’s place. He hadn’t exactly planned on how long he would stay—his ticket was one-way, but he knew there were limits to how long he could remain before his visa expired. Maybe that was fitting. Maybe they needed that quiet time limit to force them to figure out what they were doing.
But for now, neither of them talked about that. Instead, they fell into something that felt strangely normal, like picking up a story they had paused halfway through.
The first morning after their talk, Ryou texted Keiko.
Ryou: You’re late.
Keiko: Late for what?
Ryou: Coffee. I thought you said you wanted to make up for lost time.
Keiko: I do, but I also like sleep?
Ryou: So you’re telling me six months in another country and you still haven’t matured?
Keiko: Excuse you, I’m very mature. Now buy me coffee and I’ll prove it.
That became their thing. Morning coffee at the same small café near Keiko’s apartment, where Ryou always ordered black coffee and Keiko still stuck to her café mocha. They sat across from each other, talking about everything and nothing—old habits mixing with new dynamics.
There were moments that felt so easy, so right, like the six months apart had never happened.
Like when Keiko teased him mercilessly for accidentally ordering the wrong pastry in broken Japanese.
“I thought you could read?” she smirked.
“I was distracted,” Ryou muttered, frowning at the strawberry-filled bread he definitely hadn’t meant to order.
Keiko grinned, taking a sip of her drink. “By what?”
Ryou gave her a pointed look, but the small upward twitch of his lips gave him away.
Or when Keiko realized Ryou had a habit of flipping through books in bookstores without ever buying them.
“You’re like a literary freeloader,” she observed, watching as he casually skimmed through the pages of a Murakami novel.
“I prefer the term ‘efficient reader,’” he said without looking up.
“Uh-huh. And what exactly are you reading?”
Ryou turned the book around so she could see the title. She rolled her eyes.
“A Wild Sheep Chase? Really? You do know there are other authors, right?”
“I like what I like.”
Keiko smirked, nudging him with her elbow. “You like being predictable, that’s what.”
Ryou chuckled, shaking his head. But he didn’t argue.
But then, there were other moments too—moments that reminded Keiko why this still felt so delicate, so unspoken.
Like when Ryou would fall into long silences, staring out at the city skyline as if he was still half-ready to disappear.
Or when Keiko caught herself watching him too closely, afraid she might blink and he’d be gone again.
One night, after walking her home, Keiko finally said what had been on her mind. “I don’t want to be afraid of you leaving.”
Ryou exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to be, either.”
“But I am,” she admitted softly. “Because you’re Ryou. And Ryou always leaves.”
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quieter. “I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
Keiko searched his face. There was something raw in his expression, something he didn’t say but meant more than words ever could.
She reached for his sleeve, fingers brushing against the fabric. “Then don’t be.”
Ryou looked at her then—really looked at her—before nodding once. “I’ll try.”
They weren’t rushing anything. They weren’t defining it yet. But for the first time, neither of them was running.
And that was the biggest step of all.
* * *
Chapter 59: Until You’re Ready
The night before Ryou was set to leave, they found themselves back at the small café near Keiko’s apartment. It had become their place, the quiet corner where they had relearned each other, where sarcasm and soft moments had intertwined into something unspoken but undeniable.
Tonight, though, there was no teasing. No easy banter.
Only the weight of time running out.
Keiko traced the rim of her cup, staring at the steam rising from her café mocha. “So, you leave tomorrow.”
Ryou nodded. “Yeah.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then, Keiko exhaled, forcing a smile. “I suppose I should say something poetic about how time flies.”
He smirked faintly. “I think we’ve had enough poetry to last us a lifetime.”
She looked up at him, studying his face. “Are you going to be okay?”
Ryou tilted his head slightly. “Are you?”
Keiko sighed, leaning back. “I don’t know.”
Honesty. For once, it didn’t feel scary.
Ryou exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before looking at her. “Losing you took half my soul.”
Keiko’s breath hitched.
He didn’t look away this time. “I don’t want to go through that again.”
She swallowed, her fingers tightening around her cup. “Then don’t.”
Ryou gave a quiet chuckle, but there was no amusement in it. “It’s not that simple, Keiko.”
She hesitated before asking, “What do you want?”
For the first time, he didn’t hesitate. “You.”
Keiko felt her chest tighten, her heart pounding in a way that wasn’t just fear, but something deeper. “Ryou—”
“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know you’re not ready. I know this is still… whatever it is.”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “It’s not just that. I don’t want you to wait for something that—”
He cut her off again, this time with a softness she wasn’t expecting. “I take it back.”
She blinked. “What?”
Ryou leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “What I said back then.”
Keiko frowned, trying to remember. And then it hit her.
“If this is what you need, I won’t stop you. But don’t expect me to wait for something you’re not sure about.”
She inhaled sharply as the memory washed over her.
“I take it back,” Ryou repeated, his voice quieter now. “If you want me to, I’ll wait.”
Her hands trembled slightly against her cup. “Ryou…”
“I’ll wait till you’re ready. I’ll wait till you come home.”
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. He wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t demanding. He was simply offering something she never thought she would hear from him.
A choice.
She nodded slowly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “Okay.”
Ryou let out a slow breath, his expression softening. “Okay.”
Silence wrapped around them, but it wasn’t heavy this time. It was warm, comforting.
When they finally stood up to leave, Keiko hesitated before stepping closer, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffened for just a moment before his hands found their way to her back, pulling her in.
They stayed like that for a long time.
And when she finally pulled back, Ryou leaned down, pressing the gentlest kiss against her forehead before whispering, “See you soon.”
This time, it wasn’t goodbye.
It was a promise.
* * *
Chapter 60 : The Way Things Are Now
[Group Chat: “Chaos Trio”]
Tarou: Alright, listen up gank. Big news.
Keiko: Oh no. Here we go.
Kyo: Is this about the cat painting again?
Tarou: Rude. First of all, that was a masterpiece. Second of all, no. I just signed my first official exhibition contract. It’s happening. I’m going to be famous.
Keiko: TAROU!!! OMGGGG!!! That’s incredible!! 😭😭😭 I’m so proud of you!!!
Kyo: Congratulations. No more starving artist arc, I see.
Tarou: That’s right. I’m finally getting paid for my genius. But also, Keiko, you better be here for it.
Keiko: I promised, didn’t I? I’ll be back. Almost done with school anyway.
Tarou: Good. I need my number one fan in the front row. And Kyo. You can come too.
Kyo: …Thanks?
Keiko: LOL. But wait—I have news too.
Tarou: OH?
Kyo: You finished a book without skipping to the ending first?
Keiko: 😑😑😑 No, idiot. I have news about you. Kyo, you got a promotion, didn’t you?
Tarou: WAIT. WHAT.
Kyo: …How did you know?
Keiko: Please. I know everything. And you literally sent an email with the words “efficiency in workflow management” in it. Only corporate drones do that. Why didn’t you tell us?
Tarou: Betrayal. My boy Kyo, the workaholic, climbing the ladder. Soon he won’t even talk to us peasants.
Kyo: I hate both of you.
Keiko: Liar. You love us. But seriously, congrats Kyo!! I knew it would happen. You work harder than anyone.
Tarou: Agreed. But also, since you’re rich now, you’re buying drinks when we’re all together again.
Kyo: I regret telling you both.
Keiko: You didn’t tell us. I figured it out.
Tarou: This is true.
Keiko: ANYWAY. Everything’s falling into place, huh? Feels kinda unreal.
Tarou: Yeah. Life’s weirdly working out. Almost like we’re growing up or something.
Kyo: Terrifying concept.
Keiko: Absolutely.
Tarou: Speaking of growing up— Sooo, Keiko… how’s your mysterious world-traveling boyfriend?
Keiko: You’re unbearable.
Kyo: That’s not a denial.
Keiko: 🙄 He’s good. We talk every day.
Tarou: Ohhh??
Keiko: Ohhh what?
Tarou: Definition time, babyyy. What ARE you two?
Keiko: …We’re good. That’s what we are.
Kyo: A very vague answer.
Keiko: Look. No labels, no pressure. But this time… it’s different. I’m different.
Tarou: Different as in you finally know what’s good for you?
Keiko: Yeah.
Kyo: Then that’s enough.
Keiko: Yeah. It is.
Tarou: Hmmm. I suppose I’ll allow it. But you know the deal. If he hurts you again, Kyo and I will personally come over and ruin his life.
Kyo: Correct.
Keiko: LOL. You two are the worst. But also, thank you.
Tarou: Anytime.
Kyo: Always.
Keiko: Soon. We’ll be together again soon.
Tarou: And when that happens, drinks on Kyo.
Kyo: I hate you both.
Keiko: You love us.
Tarou: Obviously.
Kyo: …Yeah. I do.
And just like that, the past, the present, and the future all came together in a single moment. No matter where they were, this friendship—this chaotic, beautiful thing—would always find its way back.
* * *
Chapter 61: Welcome Home
The city stretched beneath her, golden lights flickering like scattered stars against the darkened sky. Keiko pressed her forehead lightly against the airplane window, watching as the familiar skyline came into view. The streets, the buildings, the winding roads that led back to the places she once called home—it was all the same, and yet, somehow, she wasn’t.
This is my city.
For the longest time, she had felt restless, like she was constantly searching for something just beyond her reach. But now, she knew what she had been looking for all along—not a place, not a person, but a feeling.
She had found herself. And in the process, she had found love—the kind that didn’t trap her, the kind that didn’t pull her down like gravity. The kind that set her free.
The fasten seatbelt sign dinged, and the pilot’s voice came through the speakers, announcing their descent. Keiko inhaled deeply, her chest tightening with anticipation. She was really back.
* * *
The moment she stepped through the arrival gate, she saw them.
Kyo and Tarou were waiting, standing just beyond the crowd, both of them grinning like idiots the second they spotted her.
Keiko barely had time to blink before Tarou lunged at her, pulling her into the kind of suffocating hug that made it impossible to breathe—but she didn’t mind. She laughed into his shoulder, the sound muffled but filled with warmth.
“You’re late,” Tarou said, squeezing her tighter.
Keiko let out a breathless laugh. “Blame the airline.”
“Excuses,” Kyo deadpanned, but the way his eyes softened said otherwise. He waited until Tarou finally let go before reaching out, giving her a firm, grounding squeeze on her shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”
Keiko met his gaze, feeling a familiar kind of calm settle inside her. “It’s good to be back.”
This was home. Not because of the streets or the places, but because of them.
Keiko’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, already knowing who it was before she even saw the name.
Ryou: Welcome home. Hope you’re having a good time with your best buds.
Ryou: I’ll see you soon.
Ryou: I love you Keiko.
Keiko’s breath hitched slightly, her heart skipping at the words she hadn’t heard from him before. For a moment, she just stared at the screen, taking them in.
He loved her.
And she knew, without hesitation, that she loved him too.
Tarou peeked over her shoulder, trying to read her phone screen. “Who’s that?”
Keiko quickly turned her phone away, smirking. “None of your business.”
Kyo rolled his eyes. “Let’s go before Tarou starts interrogating you.”
Keiko laughed, slinging her bag over her shoulder as they stepped forward, into the city she had once left behind. But this time, she wasn’t lost.
She was exactly where she was meant to be. Finally home.
* * *
Epilogue: A Love That Stays
The city felt different now. Maybe because she had changed. Maybe because, for the first time, she wasn’t searching anymore.
Keiko stood on the balcony of her apartment, the air crisp with the quiet hum of night. The skyline stretched before her, a familiar constellation of lights, but this time, she didn’t feel the urge to run toward something unknown.
She had spent so much of her life chasing—feelings, moments, people—always reaching for something just beyond her grasp. And for a while, she thought love was meant to be that way—a pull so strong it left her breathless, always just out of reach, always slipping through her fingers.
But love wasn’t about chasing. It wasn’t about running, either.
Love was about choosing.
And she had finally chosen.
She didn’t have to wonder anymore. She knew. She had found something she wanted to hold on to, and this time, she wasn’t afraid.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Ryou: Look down.
She did. And there he was, standing on the street below, hands tucked into his pockets, looking up at her with that quiet, steady gaze that had once made her feel like she was drowning—only now, it felt like home.
Keiko smiled.
She had spent years searching for something she couldn’t name. But it was never about the search. It was about realizing that she had the power to stop running, to stop reaching, and simply be.
She was finally where she belonged.
And she had chosen to stay.
* * *
He had always been the one to leave first.
It was easier that way—walking away before things could get too complicated, before anyone had the chance to ask him to stay.
But this time, he was still here.
Ryou stood outside Keiko’s apartment, watching as she leaned over the balcony, smiling down at him. The sight of her, here, back where she belonged, stirred something deep in his chest—something unfamiliar, something that scared him but also felt undeniably right.
For the longest time, he believed love was a thing of movement—a restless, fleeting emotion that thrived in uncertainty. That if he stopped, if he let himself be tied to something real, he would lose himself.
But love wasn’t about running.
And it wasn’t about being chased.
Love was about choosing.
And Keiko—she had chosen him.
Not out of desperation, not because she was searching for something missing, but because she wanted to.
And for the first time, so did he.
Ryou pulled out his phone and typed a message.
Ryou: Look down.
She didn’t reply. Instead, she disappeared from the balcony.
A moment later, the door to her building opened, and she stepped outside, eyes shining under the soft glow of the streetlights.
He didn’t say anything as she approached. He didn’t need to.
Because this time, neither of them were running.
They had already found where they were meant to be.
Diary of A Chaotic Dreamer 
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