Yuto didn't notice it at first.
It wasn't something sudden. There was no dramatic silence, no obvious falling-out. Just fewer messages, longer intervals between replies, less laughter in her voice during their rare calls.
And then one night, he was scrolling through his inbox and realized it had been over a month since Hina last emailed him. A month.
He reread her last message, short, polite, casual. "Midterms are coming. I've been busy. Don't worry, I'm fine. Hope the weather's getting better there. Take care."
She'd ended it with "Take care."
Not "Talk soon."
Not "Miss you."
Not even "Yuyu."
Just take care.
That night, Yuto sat at his desk, staring at his laptop screen, a message half-typed: "I miss how things used to be." He deleted it. Then typed: "Do you still think about me sometimes?" Then deleted that too.
In the end, all he sent was:
"I saw an archery tournament on the riverbank last weekend. Thought of you."
No reply came for two days.
When it finally did, it was just: "That's nice. Sorry I've been busy."
Yuto leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't blame her. Life moved on. People grew up. Maybe it was natural. Still, something had settled in his chest, quiet and persistent.
He dug through his drawer and pulled out the folded piece of paper. The one she'd slipped into his bag more than three years ago.
"Come back stronger. I'll be waiting. Don't forget me."
His thumb brushed over the creases, faded but still sharp at the edges. And for the first time since he left Tokyo, he felt afraid.
Afraid that she was no longer waiting.
Afraid that she had started to forget.
Later that week, while cleaning out old photos from his phone, he stumbled upon a short video from the summer Hina and Emi had visited Paris.
It was barely ten seconds long. Hina laughed as she chased pigeons in front of the Eiffel Tower, her hair undone, her bracelet flashing under the sunlight. She turned to the camera, toward him, and made a face, sticking out her tongue with a soft, "Yuyu, stop recording!" before the clip ended in a shaky blur and her laughter.
Yuto sat in silence, watching it again. And again. And again.
She had felt so close then. So real. And now, he couldn't even remember the last time she called him first.
*****
That weekend, during dinner, Sora noticed her son staring at his food longer than eating it.
"Something on your mind?" she asked.
Yuto hesitated. Then, softly, "Do you think… people forget you when you're far away for too long?"
Sora's eyes softened. "Sometimes. But not the ones who carry you here." She placed a hand over his heart.
He didn't reply.
But that night, for the first time in a long while, Yuto opened a blank email and began typing slowly.
"Hey, Hina. I was just thinking… remember that promise we made before I left? I haven't forgotten it. Have you?"
He hovered over the "send" button. Then clicked.
And waited.
*****
That night, Hina stared at the blinking notification on her phone for almost five minutes before opening the email.
"Hey, Hina. I was just thinking… remember that promise we made before I left? I haven't forgotten it. Have you?"
Her chest tightened. She didn't even have to reread it to feel the knot in her stomach forming.
She did remember. Every word. Every look. The silver ribbon bracelet still on her wrist was a quiet anchor she never removed. But the truth was, things had changed.
It wasn't about love fading. It was about life growing around it.
She had school, friends, training, weekend plans, exams, and now an unanswered confession from a senior she didn't dislike.
But Yuto's message… it pulled her back. Like a tide she couldn't swim against.
She stood up and walked to her window, looking out at the quiet Tokyo night. The city was loud, yet inside, she felt only silence.
Knock knock.
She turned to find Great Grandma Chiyo at the door with a soft smile. "Still awake?"
Hina nodded. "Couldn't sleep."
"Mind if I join you?"
Hina moved aside and let her in. They sat on the tatami mat, side by side, the air between them warm with unspoken comfort.
"I got an email from Yuto."
Chiyo nodded knowingly. "And your heart got a little louder again."
Hina smiled faintly. "I think… I miss him more than I admit."
"You never really stopped, did you?" Chiyo asked.
"No," Hina whispered. "But sometimes it's easier to act like I did. Because missing someone who's not here makes the days feel heavier."
Chiyo's voice was quiet. "Distance can bend a heart, but it doesn't break it. Not if the string is still tied at both ends."
Hina looked down at her wrist. The bracelet was a little faded now, but it was still there. Still whole.
"What should I say?" she asked.
Chiyo reached out and gently took Hina's hand in hers. "Say what's true. Not what's safe. That's how people who matter find their way back to each other."
The next morning, Hina finally replied.
"I haven't forgotten. I never could. But sometimes I get scared that I'm the only one still holding on. I don't want to forget… I just don't know how to keep remembering without hurting."
She hesitated, fingers lingering above the keyboard, then added:
"Do you still want me to wait?"
She hit send before she could change her mind. Then leaned back, closed her eyes, and let herself feel the ache that came with honesty.
Yuto replied that night.
"Yes. I do."
"I always have."
After sending it, he sat in silence for a long while. And then, something clicked. A quiet, steady certainty that had been growing inside him for some time now.
He stood and walked into the living room, where his parents were watching a drama together, the soft glow of the TV washing over their calm faces.
Sora noticed the change in him immediately. "Yuto?"
He took a breath. "I've decided something."
Daiki muted the TV. "Go on."
"I want to go back to Tokyo," Yuto said. "After I finish high school here. I want to do college there."
Sora blinked. "You want to study in Japan?"
Yuto nodded. "Yeah. I've been thinking about it for a while. I know I can manage on my own. And you don't have to leave Paris. I know how much your career is growing. I can take care of myself. I'll get a dorm or a small place near campus.
Sora sat in silence for a few seconds. "Is this… about Hina?"
"Yes," Yuto said honestly. "But it's also about me. I feel like I've been living in between, half in Paris, half back home. I want to stop feeling that way."
Daiki looked at his son with quiet understanding. "You've grown."
Sora's eyes softened, filled with emotion she didn't try to hide. "I always knew you'd find your way back. I just didn't think it would be this soon."
"You'll still visit, right?" she asked, voice a little wobbly.
"Of course," Yuto smiled. "I'll come back to visit. But for now… I think I need to go back. I need to see her."
Sora walked over and hugged him tightly, her voice low. "Then go. And when you do… go with your whole heart."
Yuto closed his eyes and held her back.
He knew it wouldn't be easy. Nothing between them ever had been. But the idea of walking the same streets again, seeing Hina in person, standing beside her not as a boy who left—but as the man who came back…
It gave him something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.