Distance & Doubts

The days that followed were quiet. Too quiet.

Ren didn't call. Didn't text. And Emma didn't reach out either.

She told herself she was fine. That she had made the right decision. She threw herself into work, filling her days with interviews, research, and long walks through the city. But no matter how much she distracted herself, a part of her kept waiting—for a message, for an explanation, for something.

Nothing came.

Until one evening.

She was at a small bookstore in Ginza, flipping through a novel she had no intention of buying, when a familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"You disappeared."

Emma turned. Ren.

He looked the same—black sweater, camera slung over his shoulder, eyes unreadable. But there was something else, too. A tiredness in his expression, a tension in his stance.

She exhaled sharply. "I told you I wouldn't wait while you figured things out."

Ren studied her. "And if I already have?"

Her heart skipped, but she didn't let herself hope. "And?"

Ren hesitated, his fingers gripping the strap of his camera. "Aiko was my past. But you…" He took a slow step closer. "You are my present."

Emma's breath hitched.

But doubt lingered.

"Are you saying this because you're sure?" she asked, searching his face. "Or because you're afraid of being alone?"

Ren's eyes darkened. "You think I don't know the difference?"

She swallowed. "I don't know what to think, Ren. You didn't call. You didn't come after me."

"I thought you didn't want me to."

Emma laughed bitterly. "That's not how this works."

Silence.

Then, quietly, Ren said, "I don't want to lose you."

Emma's chest ached at the raw honesty in his voice. But was that enough?

She looked at him, feeling the weight of her own heart. "Then prove it."

And with that, she turned and walked away—leaving Ren standing there, watching her disappear into the city.