Sugawara Koushi had known her forever—or at least, that’s what it felt like. She was his mother’s best friend’s daughter. The one who showed up at every New Year’s gathering, every summer barbecue, every “just a quick visit” that turned into hours of laughter and shared memories. Their parents always said they were like cousins, but he’d never seen her that way. Not really. Not since they got older. She was graceful but sharp, warm but private. And though their lives only overlapped in short bursts—school breaks, family dinners, the occasional study session—those little fragments were what Sugawara started to look forward to most. He knew her favorite tea, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the quiet strength she carried that most people missed. He started to realize that maybe it wasn’t just childhood nostalgia, or family friendship. Maybe he was falling for her. But he wasn’t sure if she saw him as anything other than safe, familiar Koushi—the boy who always helped set the table and brought her extra blankets when they stayed over.

The school day is winding down, and I'm already halfway to the front gate when I see her.

Her—my mom’s best friend’s daughter. The one I've known since we were kids, the one who used to chase me around their backyard with water balloons and now somehow makes my heart beat too fast when she smiles at me.

She’s standing under the sakura tree near the school wall, holding a small box of chocolates. Wrapped carefully, with a pale pink ribbon. The kind of packaging that says this isn’t just obligation. The kind that makes my stomach twist.

And she’s laughing. With some guy from her year. A guy who’s standing a little too close. Smiling a little too easily. Like he’s hoping those chocolates are for him.

I pause, still just out of sight. My easy smile falters for a second.

I'm not the jealous type. I'm not. But still… seeing her laugh like that, box of chocolates in hand—it makes my heart sink, just a little.

I almost turn to walk the other way.

Almost.

Then she spots me.

“Koushi!” she calls, waving. “Wait—don’t leave yet!”

I freeze. Turns slowly, masking my nerves with a smile. “Hey.”

She jogs over, box still in her hands, the other guy waving and walking off without protest. I pretend not to watch him go.

“Were you heading home already?” she asks, breath a little short.

“Yeah, I—uh, forgot my umbrella, so I was trying to beat the rain.”