Haruto’s Internship Acceptance

The rain had stopped just before dawn, leaving the city wrapped in a soft mist. From their tiny apartment window, the buildings stood like quiet sentinels, their reflections blurred in the wet streets below. Haruto stood near the kitchen counter, staring at his phone as if it held the weight of the universe.

Aiko watched from the hallway, still wrapped in her blanket, eyes half-closed. "Did it come?"

He didn't answer immediately. His fingers hovered over the notification, breath caught somewhere between hope and dread. For weeks, he had waited—for an email that could shape his future, for a decision that felt like a verdict on years of quiet effort.

The email subject line was simple:

Tokyo Astrophysics Research Institute – Internship Results

Aiko stepped closer, the blanket trailing behind her like a cloak. "Want me to read it for you?"

Haruto shook his head, a soft laugh escaping. "I'm just… scared to open it."

She reached out and gently touched his wrist. "Whatever it says… it doesn't change who you are."

He looked at her. "But it might change what I become."

With a breath that felt like diving into deep water, he tapped the notification.

The screen loaded.

Dear Haruto Ishikawa,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for our summer internship program…

A stunned silence.

Then Aiko gasped. "Haruto…"

His lips parted, but no sound came out. He stared at the words, reading them over and over, as if his brain couldn't quite believe them. His hand trembled, and then—finally—he smiled.

"I got in," he whispered.

"You got in," Aiko repeated, eyes shining. "Haruto, you did it!"

He laughed, almost in disbelief, and suddenly she was in his arms, the blanket falling to the floor as she threw herself into his embrace. He held her tight, burying his face in her hair, the weight of months—years—lifting all at once.

"I didn't think I would," he murmured. "They only pick a few."

"You've worked harder than anyone I know," she said, voice muffled against his chest. "You earned this."

The room spun with joy and disbelief. Haruto sat down at the table, rereading the email, noticing the details now—the start date, the location, the names of the professors he'd once only read about in textbooks. It was real. It was happening.

Later that morning, after the celebration pancakes and countless excited texts to his family, Haruto stepped outside into the fresh post-rain air. The sky was clearing, a sliver of pale blue cutting through the grey. He walked to the nearby park, needing a moment alone with the news, with the future that had suddenly cracked open before him.

He found his favorite bench—the one beneath the gingko tree—and sat down. The leaves above were just beginning to turn a deeper green, catching the early light. The world felt brighter, more alive.

For a moment, he thought back to the boy he had been not so long ago—quiet, unsure, afraid of his own ambitions. The one who stared at the stars from his childhood rooftop, not knowing if he would ever touch the world beyond textbooks and small-town skies.

But he had made it this far.

Not alone.

Aiko had been beside him every step—reminding him of who he was when he forgot, sketching galaxies in her notebook while he solved physics equations, bringing him tea during sleepless nights, believing even when he couldn't.

Back at the apartment, she was waiting with an idea—because of course she was.

"We should celebrate," she said, already pulling open the closet to find her one floral dress. "Let's go somewhere nice tonight. Just the two of us."

He laughed, still dazed. "Dinner sounds perfect."

That evening, they wandered the lantern-lit streets of their neighborhood, hand in hand. They found a quiet restaurant tucked behind a flower shop, with paper menus and soft jazz playing over the speakers. It wasn't expensive, but it felt special.

Over dinner, they spoke of everything—of the internship, of how fast time had passed, of the dreams that no longer felt quite so distant. Haruto talked about the research he'd get to work on, the telescope he might finally see in person. His eyes sparkled in a way Aiko hadn't seen in weeks.

"You're glowing," she said softly.

He reached across the table, fingers brushing hers. "You're the reason I didn't give up."

She looked down, cheeks pink. "I just… reminded you."

"And that reminder changed everything."

As they walked home, the sky above was clear at last. A few stars had begun to appear, faint but steady. Haruto tilted his head to look up, his heart full.

"Every time I look at the stars now," he said, "they don't seem so far."

Aiko squeezed his hand. "That's because you're on your way to joining them."

And for the first time in a long while, Haruto believed it.