The cherry tree behind the gym is shedding its first autumn leaves even though it's barely September.
They drift down like slow pink snow, catching the afternoon light.
Yui is already there, standing beneath the lowest branch, clutching the strap of her bag with both hands.
Her uniform skirt flutters in the breeze.
She's wearing the yellow dress from that day she confessed fireworks.
When she sees me, her whole face lights up, then falters, because she can already read something in the way I'm walking.
I practiced this morning.
I watched the dream-Kiyoshi in my head over and over:
the loose shoulders, the slight tilt of the head, the half-smile that looks like he's in on a joke the rest of the world hasn't heard yet.
I copied the way he put his hands in his pockets, the way he let one knee bend just a little, the way his eyes softened without ever losing their sharpness.
I stop a meter away from her.
Kiyoshi (smile small, voice light but steady)
Hey.
You look pretty with the leaves in your hair.
Yui's cheeks flush anyway.
Yui (nervous laugh)
I—I spent twenty minutes trying to get them out on the way here…
Um. Hi.
She takes one tiny step forward, then stops, clutching her bag tighter.
Yui
So… yesterday.
The milkshakes.
You said you'd have an answer today.
I nod.
I keep the smile, but I let it turn gentler, the way dream-Kiyoshi did when he talked about Kiyomi.
Kiyoshi
I do.
And I practiced this about a hundred times so I wouldn't hurt you more than I have to.
Turns out there's no way to do that.
Her shoulders stiffen.
She already knows.
Kiyoshi
I can't accept your confession, Yui.
She flinches, just a little, but doesn't look away.
Kiyoshi
There's someone I'm waiting for.
Someone I promised—without remembering I made the promise—that I would wait for.
Even if it takes years.
Even if I look stupid doing it.
I take one slow step closer.
Kiyoshi
You are… incredible.
The way you light up when you talk about books.
The way you stayed with me in the nurse's office like I might disappear if you blinked.
The way you held my hand under fireworks and made the whole sky feel like it was just for us.
My voice cracks a little.
I let it.
Kiyoshi
If I were a different person—if I were free—I would have said yes yesterday without hesitation.
I would have been the luckiest idiot alive.
Yui's eyes are glassy now, but she's still listening.
Kiyoshi
But I'm not free.
And you deserve someone who is.
Someone who can love you with their whole heart, not someone carrying half of it in a locked box they can't open yet.
I reach out, slow enough that she can pull away if she wants.
She doesn't.
I brush a stray cherry petal from her hair, the same way dream-Kiyoshi once flicked a leaf off Kiyomi's head with that exact gentle care.
Kiyoshi
I'm so sorry.
And thank you—for liking even the broken version of me.
I'll never forget it.
Yui's first tear falls.
Then another.
She tries to smile anyway.
Yui (voice trembling, but steady)
I… kind of knew.
Somewhere inside, I knew.
But I wanted to be brave anyway.
She wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand, laughing wetly.
Yui
You're really cruel, you know that?
Rejecting me while being this kind about it.
It's very you.
I let the real Kiyoshi's crooked grin take over my face.
Kiyoshi
I learned from the best.
Silence settles between us, soft and sad and strangely peaceful.
Then Yui steps forward—suddenly, on her toes—and hugs me.
Just once.
Tight, quick, fierce.
Her voice is muffled against my shoulder.
Yui
When she comes… whoever she is…
tell her she's lucky.
And if she ever hurts you, I'll fight her.
She pulls back, cheeks red, eyes swollen, but the smile she gives me is real.
Yui
Friends?
Kiyoshi
Always.
She nods once, wipes her face one last time, then turns and walks away under the falling petals.
I watch until she disappears around the corner of the gym.
Only when she's gone do I let my shoulders sag.
I lean against the cherry tree, slide down until I'm sitting in the roots, and press my forehead to my knees.
The wind smells like autumn coming too early.
I whisper to the empty air, to the version of me who taught me how to smile while breaking someone's heart.
"I did it. I kept the promise."
Somewhere inside my chest, something that has been clenched for months finally loosens—just a little.
And under the drifting leaves, I wait.
Four months.
Five, tops.
For the woman who once called me husband.
For the man I used to be to finally come home.
I think Yui will understand.
I hope, one day, I will too.