The things I’ve buried deep inside

 I entered the book‑café and immediately noticed Mei, bent over the flowerbeds outside, tending to the blooms with delicate care. Each drop of water, each gentle stroke—it was as if she was speaking to them in whispered tones.

 I crept up behind her, peeking mischievously at her quiet concentration. Sunlight danced through the droplets, and she seemed to glow beneath a fleeting rainbow.

 As if sensing me, Mei paused, stood still for a moment, and softly turned. Her dreamy eyes couldn't see me, yet she offered a gentle smile.

 "Good morning, Jun," she greeted, as though she'd known I was there all along.

 She stood with calm poise while I, still delighted, looked at the vivid blossoms around her—alive, lush, and vibrant.

 A butterfly fluttered, alighted in her white‑hair, blending like an artwork; I brushed it away lightly, stifling a laugh at her stunned expression.

 "How did you know I was here?" I asked.

 Mei raised her head—hearing, it seemed, the space of the garden.

 "I heard your footsteps fifteen minutes ago," she replied. "And your scent is distinct."

I raised an eyebrow. "My scent? What scent?"

 "Roasted pine nuts," she said.

 Roasted pine nuts? The idea filled me with warmth—like a squirrel's gentle indulgence. I hadn't worn perfume today, yet…

 "Now… could you identify which flower this is?"

Mei bent forward and ran her fingers over the petals, absorbing their texture and fragrance.

 "These are daisies," she said. "Sweet and fresh, like autumn." She paused, then touched another bloom. "This is jasmine—clean, gentle, like the air after rain."

 "And that deep red?" I beckoned, pointing.

 "That's peony," she replied. "Its scent is sweet, like a spring morning still edged with chill."

 Every word of hers felt like a story, each flower a memory woven from quivering fingertips. I felt transported—no light required, only imagination and open presence.

 Mei's presence made me feel suspended on clouds, serene and drifting.

 I pulled out a lavender sprig from my bag—pale purple, fresh aroma—and handed it to her.

 "Can you guess this one?"

 Mei reached, inhaled deeply, let the petals slip through her palm.

 "Lavender," she said with certainty. "Right?"

 "Exactly. Good job," I said, ruffling her hair. "It's a gift."

 She cradled the lavender to her nose. A gentle breeze stirred its scent and carried the sweetness of new blooms across the garden. My eyes found the pure white peony near me—simple, yet breathtaking against the green.

 In that moment, another bloom unfolded in my heart.

10.4

 Our album "Him" topped the charts for weeks.

 I could hardly believe it. After all the blood, sweat, and sleepless nights, our work finally paid off. That success belonged to all five of us—Raven, Mallow, Hiroki, Starlin, and me.

Especially Starlin, who helped manage the band whenever I was buried in a whirlwind of schedules.

 We were overwhelmed with joy, crying and laughing as we celebrated. We went out often to mark our triumph, finally allowing ourselves to breathe. The earnings were good—good enough for each of us to splurge a little, guilt-free.

 One night, I found myself floating in the rooftop pool of my high-rise apartment. The city lights shimmered below like candles piercing through the velvet of the night.

 I leaned back against the edge, letting the cool water cradle my body. My mind emptied, lulled by the gentle breeze that brushed my skin, carrying the scent of the sky and whispered secrets of the hour.

 Soft footsteps approached. Raven emerged, her silhouette delicate in the moonlight, a cocktail glass sparkling in her hand. She sat beside me and handed me the drink without a word. I accepted it with a small nod.

 "Peaceful night," I murmured, filling the quiet between distant traffic hums and the soft lap of water.

 Raven only smiled. She always knew when I needed silence, and when I needed a joke to burst into tears.

 My phone buzzed from the towel by the pool. I reached over and glanced at the screen. A familiar number—from long ago.

 I answered. A hesitant voice drifted through:

 "Jun... I thought you should know something. Though... maybe it's too late."

 I didn't respond.

 "Ryusei... he's seeing someone new."

 "..."

 "It's Yuna," the voice added.

 I went still.

 Yuna.

 I closed my eyes. The pool's cool water suddenly felt icy, the waves around me too loud. A tiny smile tugged at my lips—so small no one, not even myself, would notice.

 "I see," I said softly. "So that's how it is."

 Maybe I should've seen this coming.

 I'd known of her long before. Through stories Hiroki shared—through the songs he wrote, the glances he cast at the crowd during performances, hoping to find her there. She came to our shows, to the livehouses, always lingering at the edges.

 Everyone knew how deeply Hiroki loved her.

 And everyone knew... she never loved him back.

 She only ever had room for one person.

 And it wasn't Hiroki.

 Funny, I never disliked Yuna. She just happened to have all the things I once lost.

 I wondered if I would ever cross paths with her again. What would we be? Not friends—not even close. Fan and idol? No. She only ever had eyes for Hiroki. Strangers? That felt too distant...

 Truth is, I wasn't even surprised to hear Ryusei had moved on. I'd seen glimpses of him in random photos, posted by people I shouldn't have been stalking, yet couldn't help myself.

 Different girls over the years. New faces in each frame. I never asked, never commented. I just pieced together the fragments until they formed a mosaic I never dared complete.

 I've never told anyone—not even Raven, not even myself on some days—that I kept tabs on him.

 I knew when he moved. I knew he got a dog. I knew he inherited SHINSEI Service. I knew he planned to buy his first car at 22. I remembered how he laughed. I recognized the girls he posted.

 I hoarded those crumbs like a child hiding candy in a desk drawer. Unseen. Denied. Normalized.

 Like wiping tears before walking out the door. Like saying "I'm fine" in every interview.

 I'd become... pathetic.

 Pathetic over a man who could never stay loyal.

 Raven glanced sideways, probably sensing how long I'd been quiet.

 "Bad news?" she asked.

 I shook my head and took a sip. The cocktail tasted sweet, then bitter, then sharp.

 "No. Old news. Just... someone finally said it aloud tonight."

"Let me guess. That same someone."

 I sighed, laying my head on my arm, trying to untangle the storm inside me. But I still found the strength to tease Raven a little.

 "So... what's the deal with you and Mallow lately?"

 She stiffened, placing her drink down. Her voice wavered.

 "W-what do you mean...?"

 "You know, since that field trip," I said with a wink.

 "W-well... Mallow and his ex had some kind of... unsolvable problem. They broke up. He was really down, and I just... I tried to be there for him."

 "So you swooped in while he was vulnerable?"

 "No! That's not—!"

 Her face turned red, or so I guessed under the layers of goth makeup.

 I knew Raven better than anyone else in HIMrs6. She was closest to me, and I was good at reading people.

 The way she acted around him—too sweet, too flirty, a little too revealing in her outfits lately—it was obvious.

 "It's just... he asked me to do something."

 "Mm?"

 "His ex got a new boyfriend right after the breakup. So... he asked me to act a little more... close to him."

 I blinked. My brow furrowed.

 "And you agreed?"

 "I think he just wanted to prove he was okay."

 "You knew it was a bad idea."

 "Yeah... But come on", her voice was a whisper at the end. "It's not like Mallow and I could ever be that 'kind of thing'."

 That statement... clouded my vision like morning fog.

What could I possibly say to a stubborn girl like her? Mallow was knee-deep in heartbreak, and she thought this was her chance.

 Did she even understand love yet?

 Probably not.

 Despite the bold goth look, the flirtatious confidence—Raven was still just a girl.

 A young, naive girl who had yet to truly fall.

 I stared out at the city lights again, then slipped under the surface of the pool. My arms wrapped around myself as I let the water consume me. My eyes shut tight. The first thing I felt was the coolness surrounding my skin, and the rush of quiet in my ears.

 Down here... there was no Ryusei.

 Just me. Still breathing. Still remembering.

 My heart was drenched. I wanted the water to wash away everything heavy inside me. Most of all, to rinse out her image—Yuna.

 Someday, I'll meet her. Not in passing. Not through someone else's story. Not in someone else's love song.

 I'll see who she really is.

 And someday, I'll move on.

 Just not tonight.

….

 I pushed open the door to the café, a small wind chime above it jingling softly.

Cloud Forest Book Café was livelier than usual today. Some people were quietly sipping coffee at their tables, others were curled up against piles of soft cushions in the corners reading, and a few had come in just to escape the rain.

 Raindrops tapped gently against the glass windows, but the daylight still filtered through—slender beams of sunlight dancing through the shimmering curtain of rain, like a scene from an old film reel.

 I couldn't find Mei in all that bustle; she was busy behind the counter, too occupied with the blender and coffee orders to even glance up.

 I settled by the window and unwrapped a Choco Monaka ice cream bar, something I'd done for years. Cool, lightly sweet—like something that melts slowly, but never completely fades.

 From my seat, I glanced toward the counter. A glass vase sat there, slightly tilted, holding sprigs of lavender tied with a red ribbon. A quiet warmth stirred in me. To have your heartfelt gestures recognized and cherished—what a rare and fulfilling feeling that was.

 Suddenly, at the far end of the room, my gaze landed on someone.

 A young woman was reaching for books on the shelf—pulling one down, flipping through a few pages, then gently returning it before choosing another. She repeated the process, as if searching for something even she couldn't quite name.

 Mei was still busy with the café chaos, so I—being the "real" owner of the place—decided to step in and help.

 She had long, soft blue hair—the kind of color that reminded me of the sky after rain, or the calm surface of the Eastern sea on a windless day.

Her white dress clung delicately to her slender figure, layered with subtle folds, puffed sleeves, and fine lacework around the wrists.

 There was something about her that reminded me of an early summer date—fresh and tender.

 When I spoke up, she was holding a book close to her chest.

 "Excuse me, are you looking for something in particular?" I asked gently.

 She paused, a bit startled to see me.

 "Are you... the owner of this place?"

 "Yes."

 "Oh… I…" she hesitated, tightening her hold on the book, her voice like a stream of clear water. "I'm looking for a novel..."

 "What kind?"

 "It's called Shattered Moonlight."

 Shattered Moonlight? Oh, a romance novel. I'd heard of it dozens of times. It was a bestseller, so popular that our shelves stocked with it were completely bare.

 It would take at least two days to get another shipment.

 I smiled softly, wanting to help—partly because she was so lovely, and partly because of her beautiful hair. "I'm sorry, but we're currently out of that title."

 "That's alright."

 "If you come back in two days, we'll have it restocked."

 "Okay."

"Is this your first time visiting our shop?"

 "Hmm… I think so. Ikeda's my hometown, and if I remember right, this used to be the old bookstore—Antique Library, wasn't it? I thought I'd stop by now that I'm back."

 So, she was a returning customer. I tried to keep the conversation going, hoping she'd linger a little longer.

 "It's called Cloud Forest now."

 "I see… Well, I'll definitely be coming back more often."

 "Bring your loved ones too."

 "I will," she smiled.

 A mature, radiant smile that seemed pulled straight from a melody or a movie scene. I watched her delicate figure step outside, raising a transparent umbrella against the rain.

 And just like that, the whole world narrowed into that single image—her blue hair swaying like drifting mist. A sense of familiarity stirred within me—deep and aching.

It reminded me of the first time I met Hiroki, back when he worked at Mr. Takumi's shop. That quiet stirring between two people that no one else could detect…

 Had I just missed something important?

 She seemed happy—peaceful, even. But why did her hair resemble a river flowing with longing and sorrow?

 I didn't know who she was or why she came… but something vague and unexplainable told me I would want to remember this moment.

 And sure enough, two days later, she returned.

 I recognized her instantly—the blue hair peeking from behind the shelves, the sound of her quiet footsteps approaching the romance section.

 The copy of Shattered Moonlight had arrived. It was now hers.

 We began talking—about the story, the characters, the unresolved ending of Shattered Moonlight. It was a tender, reflective romance about a quiet girl in love with a street artist who had lost his memory.

 "You really love this novel, don't you?" I asked once, as we sat by the window together.

"No," she said softly. "It's just... this will be the last romance novel I ever buy."

 "Why?"

 Giving up something you love—why?

 "Because I now have a love story of my own," she said, her sea-glass eyes meeting mine for a brief, uncertain moment. "And the future looks like it's going to be… very busy."

 "Well then, congratulations."

 "Besides... if he knew I read this kind of thing, he'd laugh at me."

 "Ah..."

 I nodded, pretending to be deep in thought as I looked out the window. Just then, she spoke again.

 "Do you think love can still exist... if the other person forgets everything about you?"

 "You mean—like in the novel?"

 "Yes."

 I didn't answer right away. The sunlight outside had turned golden, spilling onto the wet pavement.

 I thought of Ryusei. Of the things forgotten, whether by accident or on purpose.

 Then I said, "Love only disappears… when we sacrifice too much of ourselves for it."

….

 "Do you know that girl?"

 "Wait a second, let me check."

 Mei picked up a notebook typed using a Braille machine. She ran her fingertips gently across the raised dots, line by line.

 "Hasn't she been missing for a few days now?"

 "Yes. I want to know her name… before it's too late."

 "Alright," Mei replied softly after a moment. "Copy number 129 of Shattered Moonlight — Ikeda Yuna…"

 My heart clenched.

 "Who is she? You look like you've seen a ghost."

 Yuna Ikeda…

 "Do you know her?"

 "Not exactly. But everyone in this area knows the Ikeda family's tea estate. It's just… not as famous as it used to be."

 "Have you heard any news about the Ikeda family recently?"

 "News...? Hmm…" Mei thought for a moment. "I think there's supposed to be a big event at their place soon."

 And after that, she never came back.

 No message. No call. No text. Not even a trace.

 All I knew was that Hiroki also disappeared around the same time—leaving behind a shattered electric guitar, a once-blazing dream now reduced to ashes.

 I read about it in a post shared by an old acquaintance. No wedding photos, no poetic captions. Just a simple blessing beneath a photo of a hand wearing a ring.

 That was when I knew—I had reached the end of the road.

 Everything suddenly became clear. It was absurd.

 Ikeda Yuna—once Hiroki's closest friend, the muse behind the songs he used to write, the one who made him smash that guitar to pieces in grief.

 Ikeda Yuna—now Ryusei's fiancée. The girl who had always been there, even when I stood beside him. A piece of his past he never let me touch.

 I stepped outside Cloud Forest Book Café. The sky was neither raining nor sunny, but one dry, transparent umbrella remained on the rack. I recognized it immediately—it was hers.

 Under the season's last crimson tree, I opened the umbrella.

 Whoosh—

 A sudden shower of red leaves cascaded over me.

 Red, gold, and orange leaves scattered from the umbrella's folds, now freed, spiraled chaotically through the air. Some brushed past my cheek, others fluttered down the steps, one or two clung loosely to my hair.

 I stood still, then sighed and slowly sat down on the shop's doorstep. The umbrella half-covered my head, my shoulders slouched despite the lack of rain.

 Everything around me felt muted and cold—a colorless quietness that seeped into the bones.

 The way she had vanished without a sound made the world around me fall eerily still. Now that the truth had revealed itself, I no longer had an excuse for this hollow loneliness inside.

 I sat there for a while until I heard soft footsteps behind me. Mei—quiet and gentle as always—came over, sensing something I could no longer hide.

 She sat down beside me, careful not to disturb whatever sadness I was clinging to. After a pause, she bent down and picked up a delicate yellow leaf, turning it carefully between her small fingers.

 It was brittle, like it would crumble with a single breath. Mei cupped her hands around it, as if shielding something fragile from the cold.

 Then she leaned her head gently on my shoulder. For the first time in ages, I felt warmth again.

 I closed my eyes.

 The umbrella was still open, tilting slightly to cover us both.

 The leaves kept falling. The wind kept blowing.

 But now...

 The loneliness wasn't quite as cold anymore.