Chapter 94 — The Wind Between Two Goodbyes
[Rika's POV]
The sky over Hoshikawa City was a soft watercolor blend of orange and gold. Autumn had finally arrived, and with it came a kind of calm that felt almost artificial—like the silence that follows a long cry.
Rika sat near the back garden of her mansion, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them like she was holding herself together.
Souta approached quietly, holding a small box. "Hey," he said gently, taking a seat beside her without asking.
She didn't respond right away.
The air between them was familiar now—comforting.
"You okay?" he asked after a few minutes.
"I am… but not really," she murmured. "You ever feel like your body moved on, but your heart is still stuck somewhere two years ago?"
He nodded. "I think everyone feels that way at least once."
She looked over at him, eyes softer than he remembered. "Thank you for staying."
He smiled faintly. "You don't have to thank me, Rika. I'm not going anywhere."
---
[Flashback — Few Days Earlier]
Souta had found her in the music room, her head on the piano keys, shoulders trembling as she tried to stifle her sobs.
He didn't say a word. Just placed a hand on her back and sat beside her, staying there for hours.
Not to fix her.
Just to let her break.
---
[Back to Present]
"What's in the box?" Rika asked after a long silence.
"Oh… this?" Souta opened the lid, revealing an old music player. "Remember this? Naoto left it at my place once. You lent it to him before the cultural festival."
Rika's breath caught.
She remembered.
Naoto had been sick that week. She'd come all the way to his apartment just to hand it over, throwing it at him with a grumble: "Don't say I never did anything nice."
But he'd smiled and said, "Then I guess this means we're friends now."
"I thought it got lost," she whispered.
Souta held it out. "He must've forgotten to return it. I figured… maybe you'd want it."
She hesitated—then took it.
And for a moment, it felt like holding the memory of a heartbeat.
---
[Naoto's POV]
Naoto watched as Hikari danced around the living room, holding a paper crown Himari had made for her.
He chuckled. "You're really the queen now, huh?"
"I'm the Bloom Princess!" she declared with all the authority a four-year-old could muster.
Himari laughed and kissed the top of her head. "And papa's your knight."
Naoto caught her eyes.
There was warmth there. Real, genuine warmth. But sometimes… sometimes he still felt the echo of a name in the silence.
"Naoto?" Himari said, breaking his thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy?"
He blinked. The question caught him off guard. "Why do you ask?"
"Because sometimes… even when you smile, it feels like your mind's still walking backward."
He took a moment. Looked at their daughter. Then at Himari.
"I am," he said, this time a little more certain. "I just… think happiness doesn't erase the past. It just makes peace with it."
She didn't say anything. Just reached out and laced her fingers with his.
And he held on.
---
[Rika — Later That Evening]
She stood in front of the mirror, her hand gripping the old music player.
Souta had gone home, promising to meet her the next day. She knew he would.
She hit play.
Naoto's voice came through the recording.
> "If you're hearing this… then you're probably angry, huh? Or sad. Or both. I just wanted to say thank you—for letting me in, even when you didn't want to. You were always stronger than you believed. And always, always brighter than you knew."
She closed her eyes, letting his voice wash over her like a tide she no longer needed to resist.
Then she smiled.
Not out of joy.
But out of gratitude.
---
[Souta's POV — Walking Home]
As he passed the empty street, Souta stopped at the bridge where they once spent an entire summer night sharing snacks and talking about nothing.
He thought of her tears. Her laugh. The way she clutched the music player.
And for the first time in a long while, he whispered aloud, "I'm going to protect that smile. Even if it's never mine."
---
[Mini Epilogue for This Chapter]
A week later, Rika visited her mother's grave alone.
She knelt, placing a white lily on the headstone.
"I finally forgave him," she said softly. "And myself."
Then she stood.
And walked away—not broken.
Just healing.
---