Before I die

The sun rose quietly over the city, bathing the school in soft sunlight. A week and some days had passed since Hikari had returned to school, and although her presence had brought some sense of calm to Kazuki, the invisible storm inside him raged on.

Hikari was trying to live — not just survive — and Kazuki could see it. She clung more tightly to the moments they shared. She laughed more freely, smiled more often, and made an effort to be around him — to be close. But Kazuki, though comforted by her presence, felt the weight of a cruel clock ticking louder every day.

In class, Kazuki sat still, but his mind drifted like a kite caught in the wind. The teacher's voice, once sharp and commanding, now sounded like muffled echoes underwater. The chalk screeched across the board, but it barely reached him. He didn't take notes. He didn't even blink.

"Kazuki."

No response.

"Kazuki."

It was the teacher this time. His voice grew stern. Kazuki didn't react.

A student nudged him gently, and Kazuki finally blinked, turning his head toward the teacher. The whole class looked at him, some with confusion, others with concern.

"Are you alright?" the teacher asked, his brows furrowed.

Kazuki managed a slight nod. "Sorry. I… didn't sleep well."

The teacher said nothing more, but the concern in the room lingered like a shadow.

By the time break came, Kazuki and Hikari were on the rooftop again, as they had been so many times before. The air was crisp, and the clouds above drifted lazily in the sky. Hikari had brought two bentos this time, both neatly packed.

"I made this one for you," she said brightly, handing it to him.

Kazuki gave a tired smile. "Thanks."

They sat together, backs resting against the railing, gazing out at the courtyard below. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable — but it was different. Hikari noticed.

"You've been zoning out lately," she said, poking his side gently.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"No, you're not."

Kazuki didn't answer. His grip on the chopsticks tightened.

She smiled, looking up at the sky, pretending not to notice the tension. "Hey Kazuki… I want to go to Okinawa before I die. I've never been to the beach there. I hear the water is crystal clear."

Kazuki flinched.

"I want to eat Kobe beef too… real Kobe beef. And oh! There's a bookstore in Tokyo that has this entire section of rare classics — I've always wanted to get lost in there. Oh, and Natsumi. I haven't told her yet that I'm going to die. Silly me."

Each word she spoke hit him like a hammer. Every time she said "before I die," his heart tightened.

"Stop," Kazuki said under his breath.

"I want to try skydiving too, but I'm scared of heights. Isn't that funny?"

"Stop."

"Oh, and there's this ramen place in Kyoto—"

"SHUT UP!!"

His voice echoed across the rooftop. Hikari blinked, startled. Her chopsticks froze halfway to her mouth.

Kazuki turned to her, his eyes filled with pain. "Stop saying you're going to die! No one is going to let you die!"

Silence. Even the wind held its breath.

Hikari looked at him for a long time. And then softly — too softly — she asked, "Hey, Kazuki… have you found a way to save me yet?"

He couldn't answer.

She smiled bitterly, tears beginning to form. "It's time we accept fate."

"No…"

"There are things in this world I want to do," she said, her voice trembling. "People I want to talk to. Time I want to spend… with you. But all of that is slipping away day by day, Kazuki."

Kazuki looked away, his lips trembling. His eyes were red.

"Hey Kazuki," she said again, more gently now. "Will you spend my remaining days with me?"

He shook his head slowly. "Don't say that."

"Please. Will you?"

He turned toward her and nodded, tears escaping down his cheeks. "Yes… yes, I will."

It was at that moment — with the wind whispering across their faces and the sky vast and unfeeling above them — that Kazuki finally understood. He couldn't change fate. He couldn't stop the countdown. He couldn't save her.

But he could be with her.

And maybe… that was something.

The next few days passed like a dream he couldn't wake from. Kazuki moved through school like a ghost, present only in body. The countdown to her death haunted him in ways nothing else could. He didn't check it every day anymore — he didn't need to. The heaviness in his chest reminded him enough.

He started writing again. Scribbles on torn paper. Poems, thoughts, and half-formed prayers. Things he wanted to say but couldn't find the courage to speak.

Sometimes, Hikari would sneak him a note in class. A doodle of them together. A joke. A heart drawn with a smiling face. He'd smile, but it never quite reached his eyes.

He stayed up late into the night sometimes, staring at the ceiling. Imagining a world where she didn't die. Where he could save her. Where he had the power to bend the universe.

But the universe didn't bend. Not for anyone.

And time — time marched on.

By the time she had 66 days left, Kazuki felt like something inside him had started to crack. Not shatter. Not break. Just crack — slowly, quietly, like ice splitting beneath the surface.

But he held her hand tighter.

He listened more carefully.

He smiled more genuinely.

Because if time wouldn't stop, then neither would he.

And from that day forward, Kazuki began to measure life not by days — but by the memories they made.

One memory at a time.

One moment at a time.