First Anniversary (109)

The soft pink petals of the cherry blossom tree fluttered in the breeze, dancing in the golden glow of the afternoon sun. It was a familiar sight, yet today, it felt even more special. Today marked one year since Haruto and Aiko had confessed their feelings for each other, one year since their friendship had blossomed into something deeper.

Aiko stood beneath the sprawling branches, her eyes drifting up to the delicate blooms above. The tree had witnessed so many of their moments—laughter, tears, dreams whispered between childhood friends. And now, it was the silent witness to their love.

Haruto arrived moments later, holding a small paper bag in one hand. He spotted Aiko instantly, standing under the tree with her hands clasped in front of her. She looked beautiful, the sunlight catching in her dark hair, her eyes reflecting the same warmth that had always drawn him to her.

"Did I keep you waiting?" he asked, approaching with a grin.

Aiko turned, smiling softly. "Not at all. I was just… reminiscing."

Haruto followed her gaze upward. "It hasn't changed much, has it?"

She shook her head. "No. But we have."

Haruto nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. They were still the same Haruto and Aiko, yet everything between them had shifted. Their hearts had found a new rhythm, one that beat in sync with each other.

"I got us something," Haruto said, lifting the bag.

Aiko peeked inside, her eyes widening. "Taiyaki!"

"Of course," he said, chuckling. "We always used to share these after school, remember?"

Aiko nodded, taking one of the fish-shaped pastries. The warm, sweet scent of red bean paste filled the air as she took a small bite.

"It tastes just like it did back then," she murmured.

Haruto leaned against the tree, watching her with a soft expression. "Some things don't change."

They ate in comfortable silence, the sound of rustling petals filling the space between them.

After finishing her taiyaki, Aiko brushed her hands together and turned to Haruto. "Do you remember the promise we made here?"

Haruto looked at her, then back at the tree. "Which one?"

Aiko rolled her eyes. "When we were kids! We said we'd always come back here, no matter what."

Haruto's lips curved into a smile. "And here we are."

She nodded. "I guess we kept our promise."

Haruto stepped closer, reaching into his pocket. "Speaking of promises… I have something for you."

Aiko tilted her head in curiosity as he pulled out a small, delicate box. Her heart skipped a beat when he opened it, revealing a simple silver bracelet with a tiny cherry blossom charm.

"For you," he said, voice almost shy.

Aiko's breath hitched. "Haruto…"

"I know it's nothing fancy," he added quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I wanted you to have something to remind you of this place. Of us."

Aiko gently lifted the bracelet from the box, running her fingers over the charm. "It's perfect."

Haruto took her wrist and carefully fastened the bracelet around it. His fingers lingered for a moment, warm against her skin. When he looked up, their eyes met, and Aiko felt her heart swell.

She took a deep breath. "I have something for you too."

Haruto blinked in surprise as Aiko reached into her bag and pulled out a small sketchbook. She flipped to a page and handed it to him.

It was a drawing of the cherry blossom tree, but not just any drawing—it captured a moment from their childhood. Two figures, a boy and a girl, sat beneath the tree, laughing together as petals fell around them.

Haruto's throat tightened. "You… you drew this?"

Aiko nodded. "It's my way of remembering. Every year, I've drawn something about us. This one felt the most special."

Haruto traced the lines of the sketch, his heart swelling with something too big for words.

Slowly, he reached out and pulled Aiko into a gentle embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

Aiko closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of his arms. "Thank you for being by my side."

They stood there, wrapped in each other's presence, as the cherry blossoms continued to fall around them, just as they always had. But this time, the moment felt eternal.