Livi paced excitedly outside the campus gates, practically glowing under the orange-pink hues of the setting sun. She tapped her phone screen and fired off a group text:

"Ramen night. No excuses. Meet at Shibuya Station in 30. I’m craving noodles and nostalgia."

She didn’t wait for replies. They’d come. They always did.

Ren was the first to show up, earbuds dangling, shirt wrinkled, grin cocky as ever. “You better not be dragging me to that hole-in-the-wall again.”

“Shut up,” Livi said with a grin, linking arms with him. “It’s a sacred spot.”

Sora arrived moments later, quiet and punctual, nodding hello and slipping in on Livi’s other side.

“You know,” Ren muttered as they navigated the crowded station, “one of these days, you’re going to pick a place that isn’t held together by duct tape and nostalgia.”

Livi smirked. “Not today.”

They wove through the glowing chaos of Shibuya—neon signs flashing overhead, crowds surging in waves, scent trails of yakitori and sweet crepes floating in the air. Music pulsed from hidden speakers. A guy in a Pikachu suit danced on the corner. It was Tokyo in its purest form.

“Come on, guys! It’s ramen night!” Livi called, pointing toward a narrow alley off-center from the main street.

“You know the perfect place, right?” Ren deadpanned.

“Always,” Livi replied. “It’s tradition.”

Sora smiled faintly. “Familiarity isn’t always a bad thing.”

The Ramen Shop

The shop was just as they remembered—flickering sign, cracked red stools, walls lined with faded Polaroids of happy customers. The owner, a gruff man with a surprisingly gentle voice, gave them a nod of recognition as they entered.

“You kids again?” he grunted. “Back for another round?”

“Until we graduate,” Livi beamed.

They slid into their usual booth. The cracked faux leather bench squeaked beneath them.

Ren immediately ordered extra noodles and gyoza. “Fuel,” he declared. “Essential.”

“You eat like you’re entering a ramen-eating competition,” Livi teased.

“Growing boys need sustenance,” he fired back. “And unlike some people, I actually appreciate the artistry of food.”

“I appreciate it just fine,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “I just chew slower.”

Sora shook his head with a soft laugh. “Same routine, every time.”

“It’s comforting,” Livi said, voice slightly softer now.

Their food arrived, steaming and fragrant—broth shimmering with fat, pork slices meltingly tender. They dug in with practiced ease.

For a while, it was just clinking chopsticks and satisfied slurping.

Then, between bites, Livi spoke.

“You know,” she said slowly, twirling her noodles, “I’ve been thinking about graduation.”

Ren groaned. “Don’t say the G-word during a meal. It ruins the flavor.”

Sora raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been thinking about it too, huh?”

Livi nodded, resting her chin on her palm. “It’s just... weird. Everything feels so close now. Job apps, goodbyes, real life.”

“You’re going for that journalism gig, right?” Ren asked, surprisingly serious.

She nodded. “Angel’s Vision. My dream since forever.”

Ren smirked. “You’ve only brought it up two million times.”

Livi rolled her eyes. “Dream big.”

“You’ll do great,” Sora said gently. “They’d be lucky to have you.”

Livi’s expression softened, her smile tinged with something quieter. “Thanks.”

Ren leaned back, slurping his final bite. “I’ve been thinking about stuff too, I guess. Not in a ‘dream job’ kind of way—just like... what if we all end up too busy to be us anymore?”

Livi stilled slightly, chopsticks hovering midair.

“I mean,” he continued, eyes darting between them, “we’re always saying ‘let’s hang out later,’ or ‘we’ll meet up over break,’ but... people drift.”

Sora nodded. “They do. But some people find a way back to each other.”

That thought sat heavy—and somehow hopeful—in the air.

“I want to believe that,” Livi said after a beat.

Ren stretched his arms behind his head. “Well, good thing I’m hard to get rid of.”

“You’re like mold,” Livi shot back, smiling through the lump in her throat.

Outside

The night air was crisp, the streetlights reflecting off rain-damp pavement. They stood for a moment outside the shop, full and flushed with laughter.

“Same time next week?” Ren asked casually, hands in pockets.

“Always,” Livi said.

Sora gave a quiet nod. “We should start counting down our lasts.”

“Let’s just keep making them count,” Livi replied.

Ren smirked. “Wow. That was almost poetic.”

“I have my moments,” she said, punching his shoulder lightly.

Livi Lingers

As the boys walked ahead—Ren teasing Sora about his quiet wisdom—Livi lingered behind.

She turned back toward the ramen shop, its light casting a familiar orange glow against the alley.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. A message from Dylan.

“Sorry I couldn’t come tonight. Hope the ramen was good.”

She smiled faintly, typing a reply before pocketing her phone.

Then, slowly, she opened her notes app and checks “Ramen w/ Ren and Sora”
She stared at the list for a long moment, then tapped save. A breeze tugged at her jacket. She looked up at the flickering sign one last time, then jogged to catch up with the others—her footsteps echoing down the alley like the tail end of a memory.