CHAPTER 8

The Journey of a Childish Heart

The bus pulled up to the Shimochi Choyakuba stop, its brakes hissing as it came to a halt. Kei stepped forward, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his mind clouded with frustration. He didn't even bother to greet the driver as he climbed in—his heart was too full of anger, sadness, and something else he refused to name.

"Why does she have to get married?" The thought kept spinning in his head like an endless loop.

He fumbled for his fare, handed over a few coins, and took his ticket, barely glancing at it before stuffing it into his pocket. His usual seat by the window was empty—just as he hoped. He dropped into it, resting his arm on the windowsill, and exhaled deeply.

Outside, the world moved in slow harmony, completely unaware of the turmoil inside him. The bus rolled forward, crossing the bridge that connected the inner part of the village to the highway leading toward Shimochiguchi Station. The view was breathtaking—sparkling water below reflected the afternoon sun like thousands of tiny mirrors, shimmering with a golden glow.

Kei knew it was beautiful. He knew he should admire it, but his emotions overshadowed everything.

"She promised to stay by my side forever…"

As the bus continued, he forced himself to watch the scenery. The fields stretched endlessly on either side, patches of green and yellow swaying gently in the winter breeze. Birds glided across the sky, their wings cutting through the vast blue, free and unburdened. He envied them.

Somewhere between the bridge and the station, his frustration boiled over. He clenched his fists, pressing them against his thighs.

"Why am I even feeling this way? It's not like she's leaving forever."

And yet, it felt like she was.

The bus jerked to a stop, pulling Kei out of his spiral of thoughts. He blinked, realizing they had reached Shimochiguchi Station. Slowly, he stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stepped off the bus. The station was quiet, with only a few people waiting on the platform.

He bought his train ticket without thinking much, his fingers moving on their own. As he walked toward the waiting area, a gust of cold wind swept through, ruffling his hair. The clock above the ticket booth read 2:05 PM.

The train Osaka -Abnobashi (Platform 3) would arrive soon.

Kei sat down on one of the benches, staring at the empty tracks. His emotions still swirled in him like a storm, but there was something else creeping in—something softer, quieter.

"Maybe I'm just scared of being left behind."

He bit his lip, gripping his bag tightly. The train's distant whistle echoed in the air, signaling its approach.

As the train finally pulled in, Kei took a deep breath. This journey wasn't just about going to Kyoto—it was about facing himself, accepting change, and finding a way to move forward, even if a part of him still wanted to hold on.

With that thought, he stepped onto the train, leaving behind a piece of his childish frustration on the platform

Yoshi adjusted his glasses, the thin frames slipping slightly down his nose. He had just seen Kerin off and was about to turn the corner when he collided with something—no, someone.

The impact was swift, but the reaction was even swifter. A strong hand gripped his wrist—firm, unyielding. The warmth of it burned against his skin despite the cold night.

Yoshi barely had time to process before he looked up, his breath hitching.

The man before him was tall, sharply dressed, and exuded an aura of effortless power. His gaze was intense, studying Yoshi like a puzzle that needed solving. And then, a small smirk tugged at his lips.

"Interesting," the man murmured, his voice deep and smooth, like silk wrapping around Yoshi's senses.

Yoshi tried to pull away, but the grip on his wrist only tightened.

"Who—" Yoshi started, but words failed him.

The stranger leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. His scent—something dark and expensive—curled around Yoshi like a trap.

"Osamu," the man finally introduced himself, though it felt more like a statement than an introduction.

The name echoed in Yoshi's mind, sending a strange shiver down his spine. He knew that name. He had heard it before. Harumi's fiancé's brother.

But why was he here? And why was he looking at Yoshi like that?

Osamu's fingers brushed against Yoshi's palm as he released his grip, but the sensation lingered. Yoshi took a shaky step back, adjusting his glasses as if that would somehow shield him from whatever had just happened.

His heart was racing—too fast, too loud. This was different. Unfamiliar.

And for the first time in his life, Yoshi felt something he couldn't name.

Kei sat on the worn wooden bench at the station, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers intertwined. The distant hum of the approaching train filled the quiet afternoon, but his thoughts drowned out everything else.

"She's really getting married."

He had been running from that reality, but no matter how far he traveled, it clung to him.

A familiar presence settled beside him. Kei didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"You really thought I'd let you run off alone?" Kerin's voice was light, teasing, but beneath it was something gentler—understanding.

Kei sighed, letting his head fall back against the bench. "I just… I don't get it, Kerin. She was always with me. And now, suddenly, she's choosing him over us." His voice was bitter, though he wasn't sure if it was anger or sadness that weighed it down.

Kerin was quiet for a moment. Then, she asked, "Do you really think she's leaving you?"

Kei turned his head, frowning. "Isn't she?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Kerin's lips, but her eyes were soft with patience. "Kei, love isn't about choosing one person over another. It's about growing, making space in your heart for more people without pushing anyone out."

Kei looked away. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple," Kerin countered. "She loves you. You're her brother—you've been with her through everything. That's never going to change. But she's found someone she wants to share her life with. And instead of being happy for her, you're shutting her out."

Kei's fingers tightened into fists. "It's not that easy to just—accept it."

"I know," she said gently. "But is this really how you want her to remember this moment? You, running away? Angry? Making her feel guilty for falling in love?"

Kei swallowed hard. He hadn't thought about it that way.

Kerin leaned back, staring at the sky. "She's not making a mistake, Kei. She's following her heart. Just like one day, you will too. And when that happens, do you want her to resent you for not supporting her?"

The weight of her words settled deep in Kei's chest. He had been so focused on his own feelings that he hadn't stopped to consider hers.

The station bell rang—the train would arrive any minute.

Kerin stood, dusting off her skirt. "I'm not saying you have to be okay with it right away. But at least try to understand her."

Kei exhaled slowly, standing beside her. "You always know how to make things sound so simple."

Kerin grinned. "That's because you overcomplicate everything."

The train pulled in, its doors sliding open with a soft hiss. As Kei stepped forward, he felt something shift inside him. Maybe he wasn't ready to completely accept everything yet—but for the first time, he was willing to try.