—Naoaki's POV—
I don't remember falling asleep on the train, but I woke up to the weight of a jacket draped across my shoulders.
The carriage was nearly empty.
The rain still tapped on the windows like it had something to say.
Ren sat across from me, arms folded, gaze turned toward the darkened cityscape rushing past.
"You didn't wake me up," I murmured.
"You looked tired."
"I was."
He didn't say anything. I didn't give his jacket back.
At school the next morning, he didn't avoid me.
That alone made everything feel… strange.
He stood beside me at morning assembly. He didn't speak, but he stood there. He let me borrow his extra pen when mine ran out during math. He held the gym door open without a word. And when I dropped my notebook, he bent to pick it up before I could.
Little things. Quiet things.
But they added up.
After club activities ended, I found him standing under the sakura tree behind the school.
He didn't look up when I approached.
Still, I said, "Are you… waiting for someone?"
"No," he said. Then, after a moment: "Maybe."
"I can go."
"…Don't."
The wind blew petals between us, delicate and careless.
I took a step closer. He didn't move away.
"You've been… different lately," I said.
"People change."
"Have I?"
He turned toward me, finally.
"You're not the same person I knew."
"…From before?"
He didn't answer.
"I'm scared," I whispered. "Because sometimes, I think I'm remembering things that never happened. Or maybe they did. Maybe I just forgot."
He didn't deny it.
Instead, he said, "Do you ever get the feeling you've left something unfinished?"
I nodded slowly. "Like I said goodbye, but not properly."
His voice was almost too soft to hear. "Yeah. Like that."
For a long time, we just stood there. The petals falling. The wind moving through our sleeves like ghosts brushing past.
Then I said, "I used to have a dream. I was on a bridge, and someone was calling me back. But I kept walking."
Ren's eyes didn't leave mine.
"…Why didn't you turn around?"
"I didn't know I was allowed to."
He looked like he wanted to say something. Something big. But it never came.
Instead, he murmured, "This time… I stayed."
I blinked. "What?"
But he was already walking away, hands in his pockets.
And once again, I was left in the silence.
But this time—it didn't feel so lonely.