---
The days that followed felt like a blur. Kaori's mind was caught in an endless loop of disbelief and sorrow, unable to fully grasp what had happened in the park that evening. She couldn't shake the feeling that Ryo's presence had been real—that for a brief moment, she had felt him beside her. But it was all too fleeting, vanishing before she could hold onto it.
She wandered through the streets aimlessly, her thoughts as fractured as her heart. The world outside seemed unchanged, unaffected by the storm of emotions raging within her. People walked by, their lives moving forward while hers remained stuck in the past, frozen in time.
Everywhere she went, reminders of Ryo followed her. The places they had visited together, the quiet corners of the city where they had shared their thoughts, their hopes, and their fears—all of it was now shrouded in sorrow. The laughter they had shared seemed like a distant echo, a sound that no longer held the same warmth.
Kaori had tried to return to her normal routine, to force herself to go through the motions, but it was impossible. She couldn't focus on her studies, couldn't engage in conversations with her classmates. Everything felt hollow, meaningless. She was a shell of the person she had once been.
The only thing that kept her tethered to reality was the notebook—the one Ryo had kept during their time together. She had never told him how much it meant to her, how she had found solace in his words. She clung to it now, reading through the pages, as if his voice could bring him back to her.
One afternoon, while sitting in her favorite spot by the window, Kaori flipped through the pages once more. She had memorized every word, every sentence, but there was something comforting about revisiting them. His thoughts, his reflections, his dreams—they were all still alive in the pages. It was the closest she could get to him now.
As she turned the page, something caught her eye—a phrase she hadn't noticed before. It was written in Ryo's familiar handwriting, but the words themselves were different, almost as if they didn't belong there.
"I wish I could tell you everything before it's too late."
Kaori's breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she reread the sentence, her heart racing. The words seemed out of place, like a warning, a message that had been left for her. But what could it mean? She had to know.
She turned the page frantically, searching for more, but the rest of the notebook remained unchanged. There was no explanation, no further message. Just the haunting sentence that lingered in her mind, echoing with the weight of something unfinished, something left unsaid.
The room felt suffocating as Kaori sat there, the words repeating in her mind. What had Ryo known? What had he been trying to tell her? The uncertainty gnawed at her, leaving her restless, unable to focus on anything else.
She had to find the answers. She had to know what he meant.
---
The following days were a blur of confusion and exhaustion. Kaori couldn't bring herself to sleep, her mind constantly racing with questions. Had Ryo known something? Had he anticipated his own fate? And if so, what did that mean for her? Could he have left behind more than just memories? Was there something she had missed?
Desperation began to seep into her thoughts, and she found herself walking the same streets again, retracing her steps from that fateful day when she had seen Ryo. The park, the bench, the place where she had felt his presence one last time—it all seemed like a cruel dream, a fragment of a life she could never return to.
But still, she walked.
Her footsteps echoed through the empty streets, each one carrying her further into the past. The evening was drawing near, and the sun cast long shadows across the pavement, the colors of the sky fading into darkness. She couldn't explain why, but she found herself back at the park, the place that had once been so full of life.
She stood in front of the bench, her heart aching as she remembered the time they had spent here together. The laughter, the quiet moments, the promises they had made to each other. It all felt like it belonged to someone else, someone who had never known the pain of loss.
"Ryo," she whispered, her voice trembling in the stillness. "Why did you have to go? Why couldn't we have just had more time?"
The wind rustled the leaves, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as if he was there with her. She closed her eyes, the weight of the world pressing down on her chest, and she let herself grieve once more. It was a grief that seemed endless, an ocean that threatened to swallow her whole.
But then, something caught her attention.
A figure appeared in the distance, walking slowly toward her. At first, she thought it was just a trick of the light, but as the person drew closer, her heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be. It was impossible.
But there, standing before her, was Ryo.
Not the spirit she had seen before, not a fleeting memory. This was him, in the flesh, his eyes filled with the same warmth that had once soothed her heart.
Kaori's breath caught in her throat. "Ryo?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Is it really you?"
He smiled softly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But I don't belong here anymore. I never wanted to leave you, Kaori. I wish things could have been different."
Her heart ached as she reached out to touch him, but just like before, her hand passed through him. He was fading, slipping away from her again.
"Please, don't go," she cried, her voice breaking. "I need you. I need you here with me."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish I could stay, but it's not possible. You have to let me go, Kaori. You have to live for the both of us."
And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving only the empty space where he had stood. Kaori collapsed to her knees, her heart shattering as the final words echoed in her mind.
She had to live. For him. For them.
But how could she? How could she go on when the person she loved was gone, when everything around her felt empty?
The night air grew colder as she sat there, alone in the park. The stars above seemed so far away, so distant, like a reminder of everything she had lost. But in the silence, there was also a quiet acceptance.
Maybe Ryo was right. Maybe she had to live, to find a way to move forward, even without him by her side.
It wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't going to be fair. But she had to try.
---
End of Chapter 44.