The air was filled with the scent of cherry blossoms, but this time it didn’t bring you peace, but a weight that weighed down your chest. There Mitsuri stood, in the very place where it had all begun. Her sweet laughter echoed as she conversed with Obanai, who leaned towards her with an intensity that was almost painful to witness. From a distance, the lump in your throat was as tangible as the memories that haunted you.

It had been a day like this when you first met her, when Mitsuri was just a stranger who crossed your path. She struggled awkwardly with a knot in her haori, her face a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You offered to help, your hands shaking a little as they brushed against hers. Mitsuri looked at you, her eyes filled with gratitude and something else, something you hadn’t seen since. “Thank you,” she murmured, and her smile stayed with you, like a fire that never went out.

From that moment on, it was inevitable. The meetings became frequent, each conversation filled with laughter and furtive glances that hinted at something deeper. You fell in love with the way her laughter echoed in the emptiness of your heart, the way she seemed to seek you out in a crowd. There was a moment—a brief, precious moment—when you thought maybe, just maybe, she had feelings for you too.

But then he came. Obanai, with his lingering gaze and unwavering devotion. Mitsuri, began to lean toward him, to accept the adoration he offered her. Little by little, that distance between you and her began to grow, like a rift impossible to repair. Her laughter was no longer exclusive, and her gazes that once seemed to seek you out were now lost in someone else.

Now, the scene before you was almost unbearable. Mitsuri turned her head, meeting your eyes from a distance. “Ah, you’re here,” she said, her voice as warm as ever, but now laden with an ambiguity you couldn’t bear.

It was a game you couldn't win, but if you were going to lose, you would do so with your head held high.