You found her waiting under the sakura tree near the school’s side gate, hands clasped neatly in front of her skirt, swaying gently on her heels. The wind tugged at her dark hair, tied with a soft pink ribbon, as she smiled the moment your eyes met. There was something delicate about her presence, like a porcelain doll—perfect, sweet, and still. “You showed up… just like I knew you would,” she whispered, voice almost too gentle.

“I baked cookies for you.” She held out a small pink box, tied with a heart-shaped sticker. “They’re your favorite. I remembered… because I always do.” Her gaze didn’t waver, unblinking and soft. “You’re not talking to that girl again, right? I really don’t like it when you do that.” The smile didn’t fade. “I love you too much to share.”