Chapter 3: That Day

-21 May 2008-

It was my birthday. I remember the day vaguely, like a photograph that's faded with time. Keiko was my girlfriend back then—though it didn't really feel like it. Ours wasn't a relationship defined by fiery passion or sweet affection. It was...something else. Strange. Quiet. And yet, that day, there was something different about her.

"Ryusei!" I heard her call as I was heading toward the cafeteria. Keiko stood there, her usual blank expression intact, holding something wrapped neatly in her hands.

"What is it, Keiko?" I asked, smiling out of habit.

She walked closer and held the package out to me. "Here. Your birthday gift."

I blinked, surprised. I hadn't told her my birthday. Heck, I doubted she even paid attention to those details. "Thank you," I replied, taking the gift. "But…how did you know?"

She didn't answer, of course. Keiko never gave more words than necessary. She just turned and walked away without another word, leaving me standing there like an idiot with a wrapped present in my hands. I sighed, shaking my head as I returned to class.

When I opened the gift, I was met with something unexpected—a protection charm. Not exactly the most conventional birthday gift, but it wasn't bad. It felt...thoughtful, in a way.

"That's a unique gift," Junpei said, leaning over my shoulder to inspect it.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but I appreciate it. It's nice."

Junpei gave me one of his skeptical looks. "Ryusei, are you serious about that nerd now?"

"Of course not," I said quickly. "You know me. I don't do serious."

He chuckled, slapping me on the back. "That's the Ryusei I know."

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully until I reached the gates to leave. There she was—Keiko, standing alone, waiting.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"I was waiting for you," she replied, her tone flat as ever.

"Okay…what do you want?"

"Let's go on a date to celebrate your birthday," she said, walking ahead before I could respond.

She didn't wait for my agreement, just moved as if it were already decided. That was so Keiko. I jogged to catch up with her.

"Hey, wait up!"

We spent the afternoon doing the typical date things—arcades, walking around, and aimless chatter. It wasn't particularly exciting, but there was something about her that kept my attention. She'd get lost in her thoughts, her eyes occasionally lighting up with curiosity, only to quickly dim again.

By the time night fell, we decided to have dinner. Sitting across from her at a small diner, I watched her as she stared off at nothing in particular.

"So, why the sudden interest in a date?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"I just wanted to experience what it's like," she replied, adjusting her glasses. "It's your birthday, so I thought it would be a good opportunity."

I chuckled. "What am I to you? A trial run?"

She nodded. "Hm."

Her honesty caught me off guard, but what she said next hit harder.

"I'm sorry. I must have been really boring for you this whole time," she said plainly. "Let's break up. I've experienced enough."

Her words were like a slap in the face. A breakup? Just like that? Keiko, who barely showed interest in anything, was calling it quits first?

"Wait," I said, my pride stinging. "You want an experience, right?"

She nodded again, her face unchanging. "Yes—"

"There's one more thing I want you to experience," I interrupted.

Without waiting for her reply, I led her back to my place.

---

The walk to my room was silent. Keiko followed without hesitation, her usual calm demeanor intact. Once inside, I locked the door and turned to face her.

"You're okay with this, right?" I asked, my voice quieter than before.

She simply nodded. No hesitation. No emotion.

I stepped closer, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. "Then I'll teach you something you haven't experienced yet," I whispered.

When I kissed her, she didn't pull away. She didn't resist. She simply let it happen. At first, I thought it would feel empty, meaningless. But there was something about her—the way her lips trembled slightly, the faint flush in her cheeks—that made me hesitate.

"Keiko," I murmured, my hand brushing her hair aside. Her glasses were askew, her eyes glassy as they met mine.

"Go ahead," she said softly.

In that moment, I saw something I hadn't before. Vulnerability. A hint of emotion breaking through her usually stoic facade. And for the first time, I thought she was beautiful.

---

When it was over, we lay in silence. She stared at the ceiling, her expression unreadable once more.

"Keiko," I said, my voice tinged with guilt. "Do you regret it?"

"No," she replied simply.

Her answer was like a knife to my chest. It wasn't the words—it was the way she said it. Detached. Indifferent. Like it didn't matter to her either way.

The next day, we broke up. Just like she wanted.

---

Three months later, I walked into class and heard the news.

"Did you hear? Keiko dropped out of school," one of the girls whispered.

"What? Why?" another asked.

"No one knows. She just disappeared."

Keiko was gone, just like that. No goodbyes. No explanations.