The sunlight crept gently through the thin curtains, casting soft golden stripes across the apartment floor. Morning had arrived slowly, delicately—like even the day itself was trying not to wake anyone too abruptly after the night they’d had.

Empty glasses sat abandoned beside the couch. A hoodie was draped over a dining chair. The projector screen had long gone black.

Livi stirred first.

She blinked slowly, face half-buried in her blanket, and turned over to see Hikari beside her, curled in with her hands tucked under her cheek. For a moment, Livi just watched her friend breathe, quietly appreciating the stillness.

Hikari’s eyes opened.

They didn’t speak right away.

They didn’t need to.

Just a quiet, shared glance — the kind that carried the weight of unspoken thoughts.

Later that day, campus buzzed with quiet energy. Spring had arrived in full — sakura petals drifting across walkways, students stretched lazily across the lawn, the occasional distant bark from someone’s dog echoing between buildings.

Hikari spotted Livi near the campus library, sitting alone on a wooden bench with her knees drawn up slightly, her phone resting face-down on the bench beside her. The vibrancy that usually radiated from Livi had dimmed to a soft hush.

Hikari approached quietly, her steps light against the gravel.

“Hey, Liv,” she said, voice gentle but warm. “Mind if I join you?”

Livi looked up, her smile small but genuine. “Not at all. I could use the company.”

Hikari sat beside her, folding her hands in her lap. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward — it was familiar, almost comforting, like exhaling after holding something in too long.

Birds chirped in the nearby tree. A group of students walked by, laughing about something none of them could hear. Somewhere in the distance, a wind chime rang faintly.

After a moment, Hikari spoke.

“Want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

Livi hesitated, eyes fixed on the cherry petals scattered along the edge of the bench.

“It’s weird,” she said slowly, “how everything feels like it’s coming to an end… even while everything around us is blooming.”

Hikari nodded quietly.

Livi sighed. “Last night was amazing. I laughed so much I forgot how heavy everything’s been feeling. But this morning, it just hit me. How fast it’s all slipping away.”

Her voice cracked slightly. “I know that sounds dramatic. But I’m scared.”

“It’s not dramatic,” Hikari said softly. “It’s honest.”

Livi finally looked at her. “What if this is it? What if we drift after graduation? What if the people I love just become names I used to text?”

Hikari reached out and placed her hand gently over Livi’s. “I’ve been thinking about the same thing.”

Livi’s eyes widened. “You? But you’re always so calm—so composed.”

Hikari let out a quiet laugh, a blush rising to her cheeks. “That’s just what I let people see. Truth is... I’ve been really anxious. About everything.”

She paused. “About the future. About Dylan. About us. About whether I’m enough for the life I want.”

Livi’s expression softened. She gave a small squeeze to Hikari’s hand. “You are. And… if it helps, I’ve been thinking about someone too.”

Hikari tilted her head. “Who?”

Livi hesitated. For the first time all afternoon, she looked… shy.

“It’s not Ren,” she said quietly.

Hikari blinked. “What?”

Livi swallowed, barely louder than a whisper.
 “It’s Sora.”

There was a pause.

Hikari turned to her slowly, wide-eyed. “Wait… you like Sora?”

Livi nodded, cheeks flushing now. “I know he’s quiet and kind of a mystery, but… that’s part of it. There’s something steady about him. And when he listens, like really listens, it feels like he sees you in a way no one else does.”

Hikari didn’t respond right away. She was stunned—but not because she disapproved. Just because she never saw it coming.

“I had no idea,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Livi admitted with a breathy laugh. “Me neither. Until recently.”

They both sat with it for a moment. The petals swirled in the breeze.

Then Livi’s smile faded a little. She picked up her phone and opened a photo from last night: the group mid-laughter, blankets and empty bottles in the background, Hikari leaning against Dylan, Mina curled near Ren. She stared at it for a moment before locking her screen again.

“I don’t want this to become just another memory.”

“It won’t,” Hikari said. “Because we won’t let it.”

Livi turned toward her. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Hikari replied.