The Saturday morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from the night before. Ili leaned against the railing of his room, the city stretching endlessly before him. The skyline was dotted with shimmering windows, and a few early risers bustled below, their hurried steps echoing faintly in the quiet.

He exhaled slowly, watching his breath fade into the cool air. His mind drifted, unbidden, back to the night before—the train ride, the city lights, Kouko's quiet laughter, the way she had leaned against him as she slept.

His hand twitched slightly, his fingers brushing his shoulder, as if the warmth of her presence still lingered there.

She was so close.

Yet, even now, she felt impossibly far away.

A part of him wished he had said something more, done something more. There had been a weight in her gaze last night, a quiet sadness woven between her smiles. And then, there was that moment at the park—when she had thanked him.

A simple word, yet it had carried so much.

His phone buzzed in his hand, pulling him back to the present. He glanced down at the screen.

Kouko’s birthday.

Ili blinked.

A strange sensation washed over him, tightening in his chest. Why… or how did he remember that?

It wasn’t like him to hold on to such details, yet the thought had struck him out of nowhere the night before—a certainty that today was special. But why?

He couldn’t piece it together. His memory felt like a puzzle with missing edges, the image incomplete no matter how hard he tried.

His fingers brushed the faint weight of the wisteria pendant in his pocket. The cool metal sent a shiver through him, not from the temperature, but from something deeper—an almost nostalgic pull.

Wisteria… it was always her favorite.

The thought surfaced unbidden, slipping through the cracks of his mind like water through his fingers. He didn’t know why he was so sure of that, but the certainty remained.

Letting out a quiet breath, he straightened. The idea of letting Kouko’s birthday pass without acknowledgment felt wrong, like an unfinished story.

Whatever had brought him here, whatever memories remained out of reach, this was something he couldn’t ignore.

Ili wandered through the bustling streets, his hands tucked into his pockets as the city’s energy swirled around him.

Vendors called out their wares, their voices blending with the distant hum of traffic. The aroma of roasted chestnuts mingled with the faint tang of fresh rain, and the occasional breeze carried snippets of laughter from nearby cafes.

Yet, Ili’s thoughts drowned out the city’s rhythm, his mind racing as he scanned shop windows for inspiration.

What am I even looking for?

His brow furrowed.

Every shop seemed the same—cluttered displays of trinkets and souvenirs that felt impersonal, unfit for someone like Kouko.

His fingers brushed the edge of the wisteria pendant in his pocket, the faint weight grounding him. Wisteria.

The thought surfaced again, unbidden but insistent.

Turning a corner, his gaze landed on a small boutique nestled between two larger buildings.

The shop stood out with its understated charm—polished wood frames, warm lighting, and a neatly arranged window display of delicate jewelry.

His eyes caught on a bracelet adorned with a single wisteria charm, the intricate detail shimmering faintly under the soft lighting.

Something stirred within him.

A quiet sense of familiarity.

He didn’t know why, but looking at it made his chest tighten just slightly, as if he had seen it before in another time, another place.

The shop bell chimed softly as he stepped inside, the cozy interior a contrast to the bustling streets outside.

Shelves lined with handcrafted pieces sparkled under warm light, and the air carried a faint scent of lavender and vanilla.

A young woman stood behind the counter, arranging a display.

She looked up as Ili approached, her smile welcoming.

“Good afternoon,” she said warmly. “Looking for something special?”

Ili hesitated, his hand slipping from his pocket as he glanced back toward the bracelet in the window.

“Yeah… it’s for someone’s birthday,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “But I don’t really know where to start.”

The worker tilted her head slightly, her smile widening with a knowing glint. “Well, you’re in the right place. Is it for a friend? A family member? Or… someone closer?” She raised an eyebrow playfully.

“It’s…” Ili trailed off, a faint heat creeping up his neck. The words felt heavier than he expected. “It’s complicated.”

The worker chuckled softly, stepping out from behind the counter. “Complicated usually means important,” she said, her tone gentle yet teasing. “Do you know anything she likes? A favorite color? A memory you share?”

Ili’s gaze dropped slightly as he thought. The moment was fleeting, but the memory surfaced effortlessly—the way her fingers had lingered over the bracelet yesterday before she quickly pulled away.

Wisteria.

The word came to him naturally, slipping from his lips before he fully processed it.

“She likes wisteria,” he said finally, the certainty in his voice surprising even himself.

The worker’s eyes lit up. “A lovely choice,” she said, leading him toward the display. “We have a few pieces featuring wisteria designs. Delicate, elegant… they’re perfect for someone special.”

She reached for the bracelet in the window display, holding it out for him to see. The charm caught the light, its intricate petals glinting softly.

Ili stared at it, a faint ache stirring in his chest. It was the one.

The one she liked yesterday.

“This is it,” he said, his voice firmer now. “It’s… perfect.”

The worker smiled knowingly. “It is. Would you like it wrapped?”

“Yeah,” Ili said, his fingers brushing the charm for a moment before handing it back. “Thanks.”

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As she carefully wrapped the bracelet in a small box, she glanced at him thoughtfully. “You must care about her a lot,” she mused, her voice kind but probing. “A gift like this says something, even if you don’t say it out loud.”

Ili’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his chest tightened slightly. “I guess I do,” he admitted, almost as if the realization was settling in for the first time. His words were quiet, nearly lost in the gentle hum of the shop.

The worker handed him the neatly wrapped box, her smile warm. “Good luck,” she said softly. “I think she’ll love it.”

Ili exhaled, slipping the box into his pocket. The weight of it felt light yet significant, as though it carried more than just the bracelet.

As he stepped out of the boutique and back onto the bustling street, his mind swirled with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

Will she like it?

Does this even matter to her?

He turned the box over in his hands, his fingers brushing over the edges absentmindedly.

The words he wanted to say formed and dissolved in his mind, just out of reach.

But no matter how uncertain he felt, one thing was clear.

He had to try.

The late afternoon light filtered through the café windows, casting a golden hue over the bustling sidewalk. As Ili approached, the laughter of Kouko and her friends reached his ears before he even saw them.

Turning the corner, his gaze instinctively found her.

Kouko stood at the center of the group, her golden hair catching the light as she laughed at something Mika had said. It was effortless—bright, warm, real.

Ili hesitated, his fingers brushing the small box in his pocket. Suddenly, it felt heavier. He watched her for a moment, his chest tightening. She looked so at ease, surrounded by her friends, and for a fleeting second, he wondered if she even needed him anymore.

But before doubt could settle, he stepped forward.

“Kouko,” he called softly.

She turned at the sound of his voice.

For a moment, surprise flickered across her face—then her expression softened into something warmer, more familiar.

“Ili!” Her smile widened, and for a second, it was just the two of them in the midst of the noise. “What are you doing here?”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… happy birthday.”

Her eyes widened as he pulled the small, neatly wrapped box from his pocket.

“I thought… you might like this,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Kouko took the gift carefully, her fingers brushing his for just a second—warm, lingering. She looked at him, something unreadable in her gaze. “You remembered?”

Ili swallowed. “I guess I did.”

She hesitated before carefully unwrapping the box, her movements delicate. The bracelet sat nestled inside, the wisteria charm catching the fading sunlight.

Her lips parted slightly as she stared at it.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

The usual playfulness in her expression was gone, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. She traced her fingers over the charm, the way it shimmered faintly against the velvet lining.

“It’s beautiful,” she finally whispered.

When she looked back up at him, her eyes held something fragile.

“…Thank you, Ili. Really.”

There was no teasing in her voice, no casual remark to brush the moment aside. Just sincerity. Just her.

Ili let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Rina and Mika exchanged a quick glance, something knowing passing between them.

Mika grinned, leaning closer. “That’s a sweet gift, Ili. Maybe you’ve got a hidden talent for this sort of thing.”

Kouko let out a soft laugh, the warmth returning to her voice. She held the bracelet between her fingers, admiring it in the fading light. “It is sweet,” she admitted, her touch lingering on the charm.

Ili’s chest loosened slightly, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this moment was enough.

But then—

“Kouko!”

A deep, confident voice cut through the moment.

Ili felt something in his chest tighten as his attention snapped toward the speaker.

A guy from the group—tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of easy confidence that instantly grated on Ili’s nerves—was watching her, arms crossed. His dark hair fell slightly over his sharp features, and his smirk held something too familiar, too comfortable.

Ili immediately disliked him.

“You coming or what?” the guy asked, his tone casual but expectant.

Kouko glanced between him and Ili, hesitation flickering in her expression.

“We’re going to dinner later,” she explained, her voice light but carrying an unspoken weight. Then, she turned back to Ili.

“You should come with us.”

Ili blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled—soft, almost hopeful. “It’s just a small place near the station. It’ll be fun.”

Then, just for a second, she hesitated.

Her fingers tightened around the bracelet.

“You should totally come,” she added, her voice quieter.

Ili’s chest tightened.

His gaze flickered toward the group—they were talking, laughing, existing in a space where Kouko fit so naturally.

And him?

He felt like a stranger standing at the edge of her world.

An outsider.

His lips parted, but the words didn’t come.

Instead, he forced a smile. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

Kouko’s smile faltered.

It was brief—barely noticeable—but Ili saw it.

“Oh.” She hesitated, the light in her eyes dimming ever so slightly.

“Alright. Maybe next time, then.”

Ili nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Kouko studied him for a moment longer, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something—but then she stopped herself.

Instead, she nodded, stepping back toward her friends. “Don’t work too hard, okay?”

There was something gentle, almost pleading in her voice.

Ili forced a chuckle. “Yeah. You too.”

She lingered just a second too long.

And then—

She turned away.

Ili watched as she rejoined the group.

The guy—her new friend, her new rival, whatever he was—fell into step beside her effortlessly, saying something that made her smile.

It shouldn’t have bothered him.

But it did.

The sound of her laughter—so bright, so easy—blended into the night, and for the first time since he had met Kouko again…

It felt like he was losing her.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers brushing against his pocket where the weight of the empty gift box remained.

And for the first time in a long time…

He wished he had said yes.

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