The Dawn That Never Changes.

Chapter 3: The Dawn That Never Changes.

Yuuta stood in an endless expanse of water, yet her feet remained dry. The sky above her stretched infinitely, neither light nor dark-just an expanse of gray, as if dawn had frozen between day and night.

Before her stood herself.

The mirrored presence looked at her with familiar yet unfamiliar eyes. Not accusing, not pitying-just watching.

"You look better," the reflection said.

Yuuta crossed her arms. "That's a first."

The reflection tilted its head. "Is it?"

Yuuta exhaled. "I don't know." She glanced down at the water, but it was perfectly still. No ripples. No movement. As if it refused to acknowledge her presence. "I had a conversation yesterday."

"I know."

"Of course, you do."

The mirrored self stepped closer, their movements synchronized. "You're still holding on."

Yuuta scoffed. "Wouldn't you?"

A pause. Then: "Perhaps."

The sky above them shifted slightly-just a fraction lighter, like the first hint of dawn.

Yuuta looked at her mirrored self again. "If I let go, what happens to me?"

The reflection did not answer immediately. Then, softly, "You'll still be here."

Yuuta swallowed.

She blinked-

And woke up.

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.

.

.

The sky was a slow-burning ember, orange and gold bleeding into the lingering darkness. The air carried the crispness of early morning, cool against Yuuta's skin as she jogged down the path.

She wasn't alone.

Renji sat on a bench, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He was still in his tracksuit, likely cooling down after his own run. The sunrise painted him in soft light, making him look almost like a figure carved from time itself-unchanged, unwavering.

Yuuta slowed her pace.

"You're out early," she said.

Renji glanced at her, a small smile forming. "So are you."

She exhaled stretching her arms. "Figured I'd try something new."

"Running?"

"No. Moving forward."

Renji hummed, leaning back. "That's a good change."

Yuuta sat down beside him. The wooden bench was slightly cold, the lingering chill of night still present.

Silence stretched between them, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken things.

Renji finally broke it. "Do you ever think about how things could've been different?"

Yuuta watched the sun inch higher. The rising light reflected on the dewdrops clinging to the grass, each one a tiny world of its own.

"I used to think about it all the time," she admitted. "But I realized something."

Renji turned his head slightly, listening.

She continued, "You can re-read a book as many times as you want. You can memorize every word, every scene, every choice the character makes."

She exhaled, hands curling on her lap. "But the ending won't change. The journey won't change. No matter how much you wish it would."

Renji closed his eyes briefly. Then, quietly, "And yet, we still read."

Yuuta let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah. We do."

The sky had brightened now, the deep orange giving way to soft blue. The cherry blossoms, still bare from winter's touch, stood resilient. They would bloom again, as they always did.

Renji exhaled, glancing at his hands. "I wish I didn't have to go away."

Yuuta didn't look at him. She stared at the horizon, at the place where the sky met the land-where endings and beginnings blurred together.

"I wish I could restart," she admitted. "Rewrite everything."

Renji looked at her. "Would you, though?"

She hesitated.

The sun rose a little higher, casting its warmth over them. The motto of their country echoed in her mind: Land of the Rising Sun.

No matter what happened, no matter how many nights fell-Japan always saw the sun rise again.

Yuuta sighed, tilting her head back. "No."

Renji raised an eyebrow. "No?"

She turned to him, her gaze steady. "Because even if I did, I'd still be me. And that means I'd still make the same choices, feel the same things, regret the same mistakes."

Renji chuckled, shaking his head. "You really believe that?"

She shrugged. "Don't you?"

He was silent for a moment. Then, "Maybe."

A breeze passed between them, stirring the bare branches above. The world was still waking, but the promise of a new day had already begun.

Renji stretched his legs out in front of him, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tracksuit. "You never did tell me," he said. "What made you start running?"

Yuuta tilted her head slightly, considering. "Habit, maybe." She exhaled, watching her breath disappear into the morning air. "I used to run a lot in university. Not for fitness, just... to get away."

Renji gave her a sidelong glance. "From what?"

She chuckled. "Everything."

Renji hummed in understanding. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You ever wonder if we're still running?"

Yuuta didn't answer immediately. She looked at the river instead, watching how the water caught the morning light, shimmering like molten gold. It moved endlessly, never stopping, always flowing toward something unseen.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But at least now, I know where I'm going."

Renji smirked. "And where's that?"

She turned to him, arching an eyebrow. "Forward."

Renji huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You sound like one of those motivational posters."

Yuuta snorted. "Yeah, well, life doesn't come with a guidebook. Gotta make do."

Silence again. The kind that lingered between old friends -comfortable, familiar.

Renji let out a slow breath, his gaze distant. "You know, when I left... I thought things would be different when I came back."

Yuuta glanced at him. "Are they?"

He hesitated. Then, "Yes and no."

Yuuta nodded. "That's how it always is."

A crow cawed somewhere in the distance, its voice cutting through the quiet morning. The river flowed on, unconcerned with the past or the future. The sun inched higher, warming the earth beneath their feet.

Renji exhaled, looking up at the sky. "You think we'll be okay?"

Yuuta followed his gaze, watching the sky shift from deep orange to soft blue.

"We'll keep reading," she said simply.

Renji smiled, faint but real. "Yeah."

Yuuta smirked, glancing at the horizon one last time. The warmth of the rising sun bathed them in soft light, casting long shadows on the pavement. The river, ever-moving, caught the glow, reflecting it like rippling gold.

"So," Renji stretched his arms behind his head, "since we're, y'know... officially stuck with each other now, I guess we should talk about our future as husband and wife."

Yuuta scoffed, shooting him a sidelong glance. "Oh? I thought you were just gonna wing it."

Renji smirked. "Please. I might be reckless, but even I know marriage isn't something you just 'wing'."

"Wow," she gasped in mock shock, placing a hand over her chest. "You actually thought about it? This must be serious."

He rolled his eyes. "Har har. I'm trying to be responsible here, Yuuta. You should be proud."

She hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Alright, alright. So, what's the plan, oh wise and responsible fiancé?"

Renji rubbed his chin dramatically. "First off, we need to figure out where we're gonna live."

Yuuta blinked. "Oh. Right. We do need a place."

Renji deadpanned. "You didn't think about that?"

"Nope."

"Yuuta-"

She grinned. "What? I figured we'd just exist and let fate decide."

Renji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. I'm marrying a woman with the strategic planning skills of a goldfish."

Yuuta shrugged. "At least I'm cute."

Renji narrowed his eyes. "Debatable."

She gasped, shoving his shoulder. "Excuse you?!"

Renji chuckled, steadying himself. "Kidding, kidding! You're cute-annoying, but cute."

Yuuta huffed. "Damn right."

Renji shook his head, still smiling. "But seriously. Do you wanna stay in the city, or would you rather move somewhere quieter?"

Yuuta pursed her lips, considering. "Hmm. The city's convenient, but kinda noisy. A quiet place wouldn't be bad, but then you'd have to drive a lot for work. "And my cute students are here too, so nope. Nada."

Renji nodded. "Ah huh. Well if we find somewhere in between, that'd be nice. Maybe a house with a small garden."

Yuuta raised an eyebrow. "A garden? You planning on becoming a farmer, Renji?"

He smirked. "What, you don't wanna grow tomatoes?"

She snorted. "Please. I'd probably kill them in a week."

Renji sighed dramatically. "So much for homegrown meals. Guess I'll just have to do all the cooking."

Yuuta perked up. "Oh, I'm completely fine with that. Go ahead, husband-to-be."

Renji shot her a look. "You could at least pretend to feel bad about it."

She beamed. "Nope."

He groaned. "Why am I marrying you again?"

Yuuta tilted her head, pretending to think. "Because you love me?"

Renji huffed. "Unfortunate."

She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. "You love me and you know it."

Renji sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "Yeah, yeah. Guess I do."

Yuuta softened at that, her teasing grin mellowing into something gentler. "And I love you, too."

Renji glanced at her, the morning sunlight catching in his eyes. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "God, you're gonna be the death of me."

She snorted. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is. I'd like to live, thank you very much."

Yuuta hummed, tilting her head. "Then maybe you shouldn't have proposed to me."

Renji scoffed. "Too late for regrets now. I signed up for this madness willingly."

"Madness?" She raised a brow. "I'll have you know I'm a very responsible and mature woman."

Renji gave her a flat look. "You threw a chalkboard eraser at a student last week."

"He deserved it," she said with zero remorse.

Renji shook his head with a laugh. "Yeah, yeah. My terrifying wife-to-be."

"See? You get it," Yuuta teased, nudging him lightly.

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in his expression-only fondness. "Guess I'll have to keep up with you, then."

She smirked. "Till death do us part, right?"

Renji chuckled, bumping his shoulder against hers. "Right."

The sun was fully up now, golden light spilling across the world like a promise.

The sun had fully risen now.