The days after our aquarium date were some of the happiest I’d ever had. The memory of Haruki’s hand warm in mine, his quiet laughter, and the way he’d looked at me beneath the glowing aquarium lights felt like a promise, unspoken but understood. Even though neither of us had said it, I knew he felt something for me. Just as I felt for him.

But two days later, Haruki disappeared.

At first, I told myself it was nothing—that maybe he was caught up with homework or busy with some family errand. It wasn’t like I had to know where he was every second. But by the end of the second day, when he didn’t answer my texts and wasn’t at school, a knot of worry started forming in my stomach.

It was a hollow, gnawing feeling. I sat in the school library, clutching my phone as I checked my messages again. I’d sent him a few, all casual, trying not to sound too desperate.

Hey, Haruki! Everything okay? Haven’t seen you around.

The message sat unread, and I swallowed down the unease creeping in. I kept my phone on, telling myself that he’d text back any minute. But minutes turned into hours, and hours into days.

By the third day, I couldn’t focus in class. I kept glancing at the door, hoping he’d walk through it with his usual quiet demeanor, slipping into the room like a shadow. But every time the door stayed shut, the worry grew, clawing at me from the inside.

After school, I found myself wandering to his apartment. I knew I’d been there just the day before, but I hoped that maybe today would be different—that he’d be back. My steps quickened as I approached, hope rising in my chest even as a voice in my head whispered that it was foolish, that he wasn’t there. But I ignored it, knocking on the door and waiting.

Silence.

I knocked again, louder this time, my heart hammering as I strained to hear any sign of him inside. But there was nothing—no creak of footsteps, no shuffling of papers. It was just the empty, quiet hallway and the echo of my knocking.

I sighed, pressing my forehead against the cold surface of his door, trying to steady myself. The thought that he might not come back, that he might just disappear from my life the way my father had, gnawed at me. The memory of that day resurfaced, a day I’d long tried to bury. I’d been young, barely understanding what it meant for someone to leave, but I’d known enough to recognize the emptiness that came after. I didn’t want to feel that again.

And yet, the longer Haruki was gone, the more the memories crept back.

---

By the fifth day, I was a mess. I hadn’t slept well in days, haunted by the silence on my phone and the absence of his face at school. The loneliness was unbearable, eating away at my heart. My mom noticed; she asked me what was wrong, but I could barely give her an answer. How could I explain that I was falling apart over someone who was gone for not even a week?

But even so, I found myself drawn back to his apartment after school, as though some part of me refused to give up. It was evening by the time I arrived, the sky painted with soft, fading colors. I knocked on his door again, though my hope was threadbare. The longer I waited, the more the emptiness inside me grew, until finally, it broke free.

My hand fell to my side, and a sob escaped my lips. The fear that he’d left, that he’d vanished just like my father, was more than I could bear. Tears blurred my vision as I whispered, “Please… please come back, Haruki.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Aki?”

The voice was soft, familiar, and I turned, heart leaping at the sight of Haruki standing there. Relief washed over me, followed by a flood of mixed emotions—anger, sadness, and overwhelming relief.

He looked at me, a guilty expression softening his face as he stepped closer. “Aki… I’m so sorry.”

I choked back the tears, trying to hold myself together, but my voice shook as I spoke. “Where were you? I thought…” I trailed off, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I thought you’d left.”

He reached out, his hand hovering just shy of my shoulder as he took in my tear-streaked face. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said gently. “One of my relatives passed away, and I had to leave suddenly to be with my family. I… I forgot my phone in the rush. I should’ve found a way to contact you.”

The words sank in slowly, washing away some of the lingering fear. He hadn’t left. He hadn’t abandoned me. But the ache of those five days still clung to me, and I felt the tears rising again.

“I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Haruki’s face softened, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. I leaned into him, my body relaxing against his as he stroked my hair gently. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against mine.

“I’m here, Aki,” he murmured. “I won’t leave. I promise.”

His words filled me with a quiet sense of reassurance, melting away the last traces of fear. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pound as our eyes met. His gaze was soft, warm, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Before I could second-guess myself, he leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle, tender kiss. I closed my eyes, sinking into the feeling, letting it wash over me. It was soft at first, hesitant, like he was afraid of breaking the moment. But as his arms tightened around me, the kiss deepened, filling me with a warmth that chased away the loneliness I’d felt.

When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m here, Aki,” he repeated, his voice a soft whisper. “I’ll always be here.”

Standing in front of Haruki's apartment door, I could feel the weight of the past few days start to lift. The ache I’d felt, the loneliness that gripped me since he disappeared, it all faded as I held onto him. We stayed like that, neither of us moving, as though we were trying to make up for lost time.

He pulled back slightly, his face close enough that I could still feel the warmth of his breath. I caught a hint of shyness in his eyes as he looked at me, his cheeks slightly pink.

“I… I’m sorry for leaving like that, Aki,” he said softly, his fingers brushing my hand. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

I swallowed, feeling my heart race. “It’s okay, Haruki. I’m just… glad you’re here.” I bit my lip, looking away for a moment. “And about… the kiss…”

His eyes widened a bit, and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, about that… I, um… I wasn’t really planning it. I don’t know what came over me.”

I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. “I wasn’t expecting it either, but… it wasn’t unwelcome.” I looked down, feeling the heat creep up my face. “I actually… I’ve wanted that for a while.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, and he seemed to relax a little. “I… feel the same way, Aki.”

A comfortable silence settled between us, and I shifted slightly, not wanting to let go just yet. He noticed and gave a soft, almost tentative smile.

“Would you… like to come inside?” he asked, his voice quiet, as if he was afraid I’d say no.

I nodded. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

He unlocked the door, holding it open as I stepped inside, the familiar scent and coziness of his apartment easing the last remnants of my anxiety. We settled onto the couch, talking quietly about the past few days. Being there felt like coming home.

As the night stretched on, a comfortable drowsiness began to settle over us. I glanced at the clock, surprised at how late it had gotten. Haruki must’ve noticed too, and he looked at me, hesitating.

“It’s late,” he murmured. “If… if you’re too tired to go home, you’re welcome to stay here. I mean, only if you want to.”

I smiled, grateful for his invitation. “I’d like that… I don’t really feel like leaving, anyway.”

He nodded, looking relieved, and grabbed a blanket. We settled close on the couch, my head resting on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around me, pulling me just a little closer. The room was silent except for the faint sound of our breathing, and my heart beat steadily, feeling safe, warm, and content.

After a while, just as I felt sleep beginning to pull me under, I hesitated, my cheeks warming as I gathered the courage to speak. “Haruki…?”

He tilted his head down to look at me, his expression soft and gentle. “Yes?”

I felt a flutter of nerves as I looked away, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think… maybe… we could k-kiss again? It felt really nice before so...”

He seemed surprised for a moment, but then a slow smile spread across his face, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. He leaned in slowly, his gaze steady and filled with warmth.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice soft. “I’d like that.”

Our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that seemed to speak all the words we hadn’t yet said. It was tender and unhurried, filled with the quiet understanding we shared, a promise that neither of us would be alone.

When we pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his fingers still gently intertwined with mine. We didn’t need to say anything; just being there together was enough. And as I drifted off to sleep in his arms, I knew that, for once, I didn’t have to be afraid.