Sunday, 7:30 a.m.
Chihiro slowly came to her senses, her vision still blurry as she looked around an unfamiliar room. Morning light slipped through the curtains, tinting the white walls and wooden floor with a pale golden hue. The room was quiet—only the steady ticking of a clock could be heard, along with the faint scent of soap drifting in from the bathroom.
She suddenly sat up, blinking hard to focus her still-hazy eyes.
"…Where am I?" she murmured, her voice hoarse from sleep.
A moment later, the bedroom door opened. Takahashi walked in, a toothbrush in one hand and a cup of water in the other. He took a deep breath as he entered, as if bracing himself.
"You're awake?" he said calmly.
Yet Chihiro noticed it immediately—his heartbeat was a little fast, and the hand holding the cup trembled slightly.
She stared at him, and a flood of suspicious thoughts rushed through her mind.
Why am I in his apartment?!
I don't remember anything…
Her gaze dropped to her body, and she froze.
The oversized T-shirt she was wearing—it was Takahashi's.
Underneath… nothing.
A mix of embarrassment and fear washed over her.
"E-eto… last night…" she asked, her voice rough, eyes fixed on him.
"We didn't… do anything, right?!"
Takahashi took a deep breath, trying to stay calm—but his words only fueled the misunderstanding.
"You really don't remember? Last night, you were crying and clinging to me, refusing to let go…"
Chihiro stiffened. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. His words hit her like a direct excavation of buried memories, her face turning red all the way to her ears.
Clinging…?
Not letting go…?
"Ah—"
Takahashi noticed the change in her expression and stepped forward.
"Are you okay? Your face is really red—"
Before he could take another step—
A sudden knee strike flew straight into Takahashi's face.
He fell backward, toothpaste foam still filling his mouth.
"W-Wait! What are you doing?!" he shouted in panic, struggling to keep his balance.
Chihiro jumped off the bed, her face blazing with fury, cracking her knuckles.
"Confess! Last night, did you take advantage of me while I was drunk and do something perverted?!"
Takahashi sucked in a deep breath, toothpaste still clinging to his lips as he hurried to explain.
"Wait—listen to me—!"
"UNFORGIVABLE!"
She yelled at the top of her lungs.
"Wait—actually, last night you—"
Smack!
Before he could finish, Chihiro slapped him hard—right after that knee strike—sending him sprawling again, toothbrush still in hand. His eyes were wide, looking both pitiful and painfully innocent.
---
Some time later, Chihiro finally agreed to listen to his explanation.
"…That's all?"
"…Yeah."
He looked straight into her eyes.
"That's really all."
Those firm words instantly drained all the momentum from Chihiro's anger.
…Had she jumped to conclusions?
Did she… misunderstand him?
Her embarrassment quickly turned into self-reproach.
What did I just do…
I blew up without even hearing him out…
After the panic subsided, Chihiro stood there for a moment, her chest rising and falling as guilt settled in. She turned her face away, took a deep breath, then gathered her courage and faced him again.
"I'm… sorry—"
Her words cut off midway.
Takahashi was crouching on the floor. In his hands was a mug decorated with a round, chubby capybara, its colors faded from years of use. A long crack ran down its side—so obvious it hurt just to look at it.
Chihiro froze.
"Ah—"
She rushed over, her voice frantic.
"I—I didn't mean to! I really didn't!"
Takahashi looked up, surprised for a moment, then smiled softly.
"It's okay," he said quietly.
"It's just a mug."
Hearing that, Chihiro felt a little lighter. At least… he wasn't angry.
But then—
"Goodbye," Takahashi murmured, lowering his gaze to the mug in his hands.
"My dear mug that stayed with me for five years."
His shoulders drooped slightly, as if he were seeing off an old friend.
Chihiro panicked for real.
"W-Wait!"
She clasped her hands together, bowing repeatedly.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know it meant that much to you!"
Then, as if remembering something, she straightened up.
"Oh, right!"
"How about… I take you to the mall and buy the same one again?"
No response.
Takahashi just sat there, staring at the mug with distant eyes.
Chihiro frowned, clenching her fists as if making a decision.
"Then…"
"…how about we buy matching mugs?"
She turned her face away, her voice dropping.
"Just… as an end-of-year memory."
At that moment—
"What did you just say?"
Chihiro jumped and turned back.
Takahashi's eyes were shining—completely different from the gloomy look he had a moment ago.
"Buy mugs," she replied quickly.
"No."
He tilted his head.
"The part after that."
"…Matching mugs."
Chihiro sighed, as if realizing she'd let it slip.
"Oh! Is that so!"
Takahashi sprang to his feet.
"Ehh?!"
He carefully wrapped the capybara mug in a towel, whispered something like a farewell—
Then—
Thunk.
He tossed it straight into the trash.
All traces of gloom vanished, replaced by a radiant smile that left Chihiro speechless.
"Alright, let's go!"
"You changed your mind way too fast!!"
Chihiro shouted, utterly shocked.
---
Tokyo Shopping Mall – 9:45 a.m.
On Sunday, the mall buzzed with people. White lights from the ceiling spread evenly across the polished tile floor, reflecting the hurried footsteps of shoppers. Soft background music blended with conversations, laughter, and the clinking of carts, creating an atmosphere that was lively yet warm.
Chihiro and Takahashi entered Minamoto Ceramics, a shop located on the first floor of Tokyo Midtown Plaza, 9-7-1 Akasaka, Minato-ku, Tokyo. Gentle yellow lighting illuminated the mugs on display, bringing out the glaze and painted designs. Shiny wooden shelves were lined with mugs of all shapes—cartoon prints, playful cats, chubby ducks, and simple, elegant designs. The scent of freshly fired ceramics mixed with herbal tea from a nearby stall, making the space feel cozy.
Chihiro walked up to a display shelf, eyes wide with excitement.
"Wow… they're all so cute!"
She pointed nonstop—from floppy-eared cat mugs to tiny yellow ducks, then to character-themed designs. Every single one tempted her, and she kept frowning, unable to decide where to start.
Takahashi stood beside her, resting a hand lightly on a penguin-shaped mug, comparing its shape and glaze quality while smiling at her enthusiasm.
Just then, his phone vibrated. He frowned, checked the screen, and said:
"Wait here, Chihiro… I'll step outside to take this call."
She nodded, her curious gaze following him. Once he stepped out, she turned back to the shelf, gently running her fingers over the smooth surface, her eyes sparkling with joy and slight indecision.
A warm, low voice spoke from behind her.
"Having trouble choosing a mug?"
Chihiro startled and turned around.
"Eto… um, you are…?"
"Oh, pardon me. I'm Minamoto, the owner of this ceramics shop."
Minamoto smiled gently.
"Looks like you're searching for a pair of matching mugs, aren't you?"
Chihiro flushed and shook her head quickly.
"N-No! It's just that we're buying them together!"
"So it's not really… a pair…"
"I think… maybe," she added with an awkward laugh.
Minamoto smiled and nodded.
"I see. Have you found one you like yet?"
Chihiro sighed shyly.
"There are way too many I like!"
"But…"
"I don't know which one he would like too."
Hearing that, Mrs. Minamoto smiled kindly and brought out a pair of porcelain mugs shaped like birds leaning against each other.
"How about these?"
Chihiro hugged the mug excitedly, her eyes shining.
"Wow, they're adorable!"
"And the quality's really good too!"
But then she frowned, her voice lowering with worry.
"But… as far as I know, paired birds symbolize love, right?"
"And right now, we're just—"
Minamoto nodded gently.
"That's true. But sometimes, they also symbolize something else—support, reliance, and wishing to stay together."
At those words, images of herself and Takahashi flashed through Chihiro's mind. Her face warmed, fingers tightening around the mug.
"Ehhh…! I don't even want to wish to be with that guy!" she protested, flustered.
Yet she couldn't stop the thought creeping in—
But… I wonder if he'll like it…
Minamoto smiled softly.
"When someone truly cares for you, they don't mind whether a gift is expensive or simple. They see you reflected in it."
Chihiro smiled, feeling more confident.
"Yes… then I'll take this pair, please!"
---
Takahashi returned from his call to see Chihiro at the checkout counter, holding the bird-shaped mug, her smile bright but shy. After paying, she turned to him, cheeks flushed.
"This one's yours."
"Take it."
His voice trembled slightly as he accepted it.
"Paired birds…?"
"Yes, paired birds!"
she replied sharply.
His expression darkened, and he turned away.
Chihiro panicked, stepping closer, her body trembling slightly.
"Are you okay?"
"If you don't like it… we can exchange it…"
No response.
After a few seconds, Takahashi turned back. His face was wet with tears—not from disappointment, but from overwhelming happiness.
"Thank you… so much, Mizuno-san," he said softly, warmly.
He hesitated, wanting to step closer and hug her—but immediately received a light kick from Chihiro, her face burning red.
"Even if you're happy, show some restraint!"
He laughed awkwardly, cradling the mug carefully, eyes still fixed on her.
"By the way… where's your mug?"
"I want to see yours too."
Chihiro instantly turned away, clutching her mug tightly and shaking her head.
"In your dreams!"
"No way I'm showing you!"
Takahashi clasped his hands together, pleading with a smile.
"Come on… just a little peek… just once!"
"I said no!" she snapped.
Nearby, Mrs. Minamoto covered her mouth, unable to hold back her laughter. Watching them, she shook her head fondly.
"What a cute young couple…"
Chihiro tried to look serious, but a mischievous smile crept onto her lips. Takahashi kept gazing at her, eyes sparkling, the paired-bird mug held like a priceless treasure.
---
10:15 a.m.
After buying the mugs, the two stepped out into the late morning air.
Sunday sunlight slanted between tall buildings, reflecting off glass windows and gleaming billboards. The crowd was still thick, but less rushed than during peak hours—everything moved at a gentler pace.
Takahashi glanced at the small bag Chihiro wore across her chest, where she carefully stored the mug.
"Let me carry that for you—"
He reached out.
"No need."
She replied immediately, hugging the bag closer.
"I… can carry it myself."
He paused, then withdrew his hand, chuckling softly.
"Alright."
He carried his own small paper bag, slowing his pace to walk beside her.
"Want to take a walk for a bit?" he asked casually, as if it were a long-standing habit.
"Mm…"
After a few steps, Takahashi suddenly stopped and turned to her.
"Wait here for a moment."
She looked surprised, but nodded. "Okay."
He pointed across the street to a small sweets shop with a wooden sign:
Mizuki Daifuku (水月大福)
A few people were already lined up, the scent of steamed rice and red beans drifting all the way to the sidewalk.
Chihiro waited outside, leaning lightly against the railing. She watched people entering and leaving the mall, then glanced toward the shop. Through the glass, she saw Takahashi standing neatly in line, hands in his pockets, calm as if this were routine.
Soon, he returned with a warm paper bag.
"What kind of pastry is that?" Chihiro asked.
He took one out and handed it to her.
"It's mochi."
"You've never had it before?"
Her eyes widened as she accepted it and took a small bite.
"It's so good!"
"And it's red bean filling—my favorite!"
Her eyes lit up instantly.
Takahashi noticed a bit of crumb at the corner of her lips and almost reached out—but stopped himself, turning away to pretend he was watching the traffic.
They chatted lightly as they ate: about the weather,
about rare free weekends,
about meaningless little things that somehow made their steps feel lighter.
Then—
Ring.
A phone rang, cutting through the calm.
Chihiro hesitated for half a beat when she saw the caller ID.
"…Hello."
Her voice sounded normal at first.
Takahashi slowed his pace behind her, not trying to listen—just quietly waiting.
On the other end, a familiar nurse's voice spoke, steady but serious.
Chihiro tightened her grip on the phone.
"…Yes."
"…I understand."
The color drained from her face.
Her smile faded, her eyes wavering.
"…I'll be there soon."
She hung up.
The world seemed to fall silent for a few seconds.
Cars and people were still there, but Chihiro stood still, as if everything had been pulled far away.
Takahashi stopped completely.
"…Are you okay?"
His voice was lower than usual.
She startled slightly, as if called back to reality. Taking a deep breath, she turned to him and smiled.
"I'm fine."
A forced smile—just enough to hide the trembling.
"It's just… a personal matter."
He studied her for a second, wanting to ask more.
But she spoke first.
"Um…"
She tightened her grip on her bag.
"You should head home first, okay?"
"…Huh?"
"I have something to take care of."
She tilted her head, keeping her tone casual.
"It won't take long."
He hesitated, opened his mouth—then closed it again.
"…Alright."
He nodded.
"Then make sure you message me when you get home."
"Okay."
A brief silence settled between them.
Chihiro stepped back half a pace, then turned and walked in the opposite direction. Her steps were slow at first, then gradually quickened.
Takahashi remained where he was, watching her figure disappear into the crowd. He didn't call out—only tightened his grip on the paper bag slightly.
At the end of the street, Chihiro paused for a moment. She didn't turn around—just clenched her phone in her palm, then continued walking toward the hospital.
Two paths diverged.
The same morning,
but carrying very different weights.
---
After Chihiro vanished into the crowd, Takahashi stayed there a little longer.
He looked down at the paper bag in his hand.
Inside was the carefully wrapped ceramic mug.
He lightly touched the handle, as if confirming it was real—that what had just happened wasn't an illusion.
"…You'll be okay, right?"
"Chihiro-san…"
He exhaled slowly, then turned and walked in the opposite direction.
His steps were neither hurried nor hesitant—just steady, as if trying to keep everything in its proper place.
The street was still noisy,
but the bag in his hand felt heavier than before.
---
On the other side, Chihiro stopped after walking a short distance.
She turned back.
Takahashi had already blended into the crowd, his back growing smaller among the buildings and midday light. Only after he completely disappeared did she bite her lip.
"…I'm sorry."
She whispered, not knowing who she was saying it to.
Then she spun around and started running.
She sprinted through intersections, breath ragged, heart pounding so hard her ears rang. Her bag slammed against her hip, hair in disarray, sweat soaking her back—but she didn't stop.
The hospital sign came into view.
---
Aoyama General Hospital
Chihiro ran until she could barely breathe.
The hospital corridor stretched endlessly, cold white lights reflecting off the floor. Her hurried footsteps echoed chaotically. Sweat drenched her back, her chest aching from lack of air—but she didn't dare stop.
When she reached the hospital room door, she suddenly froze.
From inside came soft voices—mixed with a faint, painfully familiar laugh.
"…Back then, I remember Chihiro was always the one who stayed late on duty at school."
A calm, gentle male voice.
Chihiro held her breath.
"Every time, she'd complain while wiping the blackboard, but the next day she'd still arrive earlier than everyone else."
Rei's voice carried a hint of nostalgia, followed by a soft chuckle.
"She's not good at expressing herself, but she always quietly takes on the hardest parts."
"I see…"
Her mother's voice—Mizuno Shiori—weak but clear, tinged with rare joy.
"Hearing that… makes me feel even more guilty."
Shiori smiled softly, her gentle expression tired as her hand brushed the flower petals on the table.
"Our family… it's really just the two of us."
Rei looked up slightly.
"Chihiro grew up without a father. I had to be both mother and father…"
"And when I think about it now, I didn't do either role very well."
She paused, gazing toward the window where pale midday light streamed in.
"When she entered high school, she studied more, and I… worked late into the night. By the time I got home, her bedroom door was already closed."
Shiori gave a faint laugh, as if mocking herself.
"I thought… as long as I earned enough money, it would be fine. That once things settled down, I could make it up to her."
Her hand tightened.
"But when I finally looked back… it seemed she had already gotten used to not having me around."
Chihiro stood frozen outside the door.
She had never known… her mother had struggled this much.
After a moment of silence, Rei spoke.
"Please don't worry… I believe she'll understand someday."
Shiori froze, then smiled—this time trembling.
"Really?"
"Because she's always like that—too well-behaved…"
"And that just makes me feel even more at fault."
Her voice lowered.
"I just hope… that at least someone will listen to her, stay by her side when I couldn't."
Rei was about to respond when—
The door suddenly opened.
"—That's enough."
Both people inside turned toward the entrance.
Chihiro stood in the doorway, her breathing still uneven, hand gripping her bag strap tightly. Her gaze was fixed on Rei—not angry, but cold and resolute.
END