The sun was barely peeking through the bedroom blinds when Ayako stirred, feeling the cold side of the bed where Kazuki used to sleep. The room was quiet, but memories of their mornings together filled the air. She got up, slipping on his oversized sweater, the one that still held traces of his scent, and padded into the kitchen, each step echoing in the hollow stillness.

Ayako moved slowly, taking down the coffee beans she and Kazuki had picked out together, the brand he loved most. She ground them carefully, her hands instinctively performing the familiar motions that made her feel like he was still by her side. She could almost see him leaning on the counter, waiting for her with that sleepy smile he always had in the morning.

As the coffee brewed, she remembered the first time he made her a cup. It was barely drinkable, way too strong, and she’d laughed so hard she spilled it. But Kazuki had just grinned, promising her that he’d make the perfect cup one day.

They’d been young then, caught up in each other and the dreams they shared—traveling the world, having children, growing old together. But life had other plans. A year ago, Kazuki had fallen ill. It had started small—a cough, fatigue—but soon, it became clear that it was something they couldn’t fight. They had both tried to stay hopeful, but in the quiet moments, Ayako had seen the look in his eyes, a resignation mixed with a fierce love that had always left her heart aching.

During those last weeks, Kazuki had been the one comforting her. They would talk late into the night, her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She’d begged him to stay, whispered to him through her tears, “Don’t leave me alone, Kazuki. Don’t make me drink coffee alone.”

But Kazuki, always calm, would just smile, wiping away her tears. “I’m not going anywhere, Aya. I’ll always be here, in our mornings, in every cup of coffee you make. Just promise me you’ll keep smiling. Keep living. And maybe… maybe one day, you’ll find someone who makes you as happy as I did.”

She had never wanted anyone else. Kazuki had been her home, her laughter, her everything. The idea of living without him had seemed impossible, yet here she was, standing in an empty kitchen with only his memory.

The coffee finished brewing, and she poured herself a cup, feeling the warmth in her hands. She took a small sip, and her mind drifted back to their younger days—those spontaneous dates in the park, the goofy videos, their walks under cherry blossom trees in spring. He’d always make her laugh, no matter how bad her day had been, and she would jump into his arms with every bark, trusting that he’d catch her every time.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Ayako let it fall. She could hear his voice, soft but firm, in her mind: “Don’t stay up crying, Aya. Don’t let me be the reason you’re sad.” She imagined him there beside her, his hand over hers on the warm mug, urging her to go on, to keep going. It was just like Kazuki to comfort her, even now.

She made her way to the small altar she had set up for him in the living room, a small photo of him smiling that easy smile, surrounded by his favorite flowers. Setting the coffee cup down, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Good morning, Kazuki. I made a cup of coffee for you… just like you would’ve wanted.”

She felt a sense of peace wash over her as she imagined him nodding, smiling at her, as if he were really there, holding her close. And in that moment, she knew he was right. He would always be with her, in every cup of coffee, in every sunrise, in every quiet moment that reminded her of their life together.

“I’ll keep going, Kazuki,” she whispered. “I’ll keep smiling for you.”

The warmth of the coffee filled her, grounding her in a new day, and as she took another sip, she found herself smiling, just a little, at the memory of him beside her.

End.