Chapter 91 – Fading Light, Growing Shadows
The morning light spilled through the windows of the Hayashi home like threads of golden silk, soft and warming. Naoto sat quietly at the kitchen table, his fingers wrapped around a cup of untouched tea. Across from him, Hana Hayashi, his mother, wore a gentle smile, but the lines around her eyes betrayed the fatigue she tried to hide.
"You haven't touched your tea, Naoto," she said softly, her voice as thin as paper.
Naoto blinked and looked down. "Sorry, Mom. I guess... I was just thinking."
She nodded. "You've always been like this when your heart is heavy."
Naoto met her gaze. His lips trembled. "Mom, are you really... okay?"
Hana reached across the table and rested her frail hand over his. "I've lived a good life, Naoto. Don't burden yourself with things beyond your control. What matters now is what you do with the time you have — with the people who still need you."
A long silence fell between them, filled with unsaid thoughts and old memories.
---
At the Hayato estate, Rika stood at the edge of the garden, eyes closed, letting the wind carry away her worries. Souta approached quietly, holding a tray with two glasses of chilled lemonade.
"You're up early," Souta said.
Rika opened her eyes slowly. "Couldn't sleep. It's like the wind carries memories now."
He sat down beside her, offering a glass. "Sometimes memories help us see things clearer. Even the painful ones."
She smiled faintly. "You're always trying to make things easier."
Souta shrugged. "I'm not good at solving problems. But I can sit with someone while they carry them."
Rika turned to him, her voice a whisper. "Do you think he's happy? Naoto, I mean. With her."
Souta hesitated, then nodded. "He looks happier now than I've seen in years. But that doesn't mean what you feel isn't real."
---
At school, the friend group had become quieter. The weight of change loomed over them. Aiko was the first to speak up in the classroom.
"Are we... falling apart?" she asked suddenly.
Mei looked up from her notes, her eyes uncertain. "No. We're just changing. That's what people do."
Yuto leaned back in his chair. "Feels like the kind of change you don't come back from."
Souta, who had just walked in with Rika, glanced at them. "Maybe. But maybe it's the kind of change we carry with us. Like a scar — or a lesson."
---
Later that day, Naoto stood outside the hospital, staring at the pale sky. Himari joined him, slipping her hand into his. He didn't turn to her right away.
"She's getting weaker," he said quietly.
Himari nodded. "I know. Do you want me to stay tonight?"
He finally looked at her, eyes red but resolute. "Yes. Just stay."
---
Flashback – Ten Years Ago
A young Naoto ran through the rainy streets of Hoshikawa, holding a tattered umbrella over a girl's head. Himari, soaked and shivering, held onto his arm tightly.
"Why'd you come for me?" she asked.
"Because you looked sad in the rain," he replied. "And I hate when the people I care about are sad."
Her eyes shimmered with more than just raindrops. "Then stay by my side, always."
"I promise," he said. "Always."
---
Present Day
Rika stared at her reflection in the window of her bedroom. Her face looked the same, but everything inside felt different.
She opened her drawer and pulled out the letter she'd been writing for weeks. The one she could never send.
"Naoto, thank you for making me feel something I never thought I deserved. I know now that love is not always meant to be kept — sometimes it's meant to be released."
She folded it again, sealing it inside the book that first made her fall for him. As she did, Souta knocked lightly and entered.
"Ready for dinner?"
Rika smiled through watery eyes. "Almost. Just had to finish something first."
---
The chapter ends with Naoto sitting beside his mother again, reading aloud from a book she used to read to him as a child. Her breathing is shallow, but her smile never fades.
"Do you remember what happens next?" she whispered.
Naoto's voice cracked. "Yes, Mom. The hero learns that love means letting go."
She closed her eyes, still smiling.
And in that quiet moment, under the soft hum of hospital monitors, the light began to fade.