Scene 1: The Long Ride

The bus ride up the mountain felt endless. The road coiled like a snake, weaving higher and higher through the trees. I stared out the window, trying not to feel carsick.

Hikari, of course, was pressed against the glass on the opposite side, her breath fogging up the pane as she pointed out every little thing:

“Look, that cloud looks like a rabbit!”

“And that one’s totally a dragon.”

“Don’t you see it, Haruki? The wings are right there!”

I shook my head, though a small smile tugged at my lips. Her ability to find wonder in ordinary things never failed to disarm me.

When the bus finally pulled into the cracked parking lot of the observatory, the sky was already darkening. The dome loomed ahead, its paint peeling, windows clouded by dust and time.

“Looks abandoned,” I muttered.

“Which means it’s perfect,” she said with a grin.

Scene 2: The Observatory

Inside, the air smelled faintly of mildew and metal. The main hall was empty except for a dusty telescope mounted in the center. It looked like no one had touched it in years.

Hikari stepped forward, placing her hand gently on the base. “Imagine how many people used this to stare at the stars. Maybe they made wishes. Maybe they fell in love here.”

I rolled my eyes, but her words lingered anyway.

She climbed the narrow staircase to the rooftop deck, and I followed, my footsteps echoing.

When we pushed open the heavy door, the night sky unfolded above us.

And it was… breathtaking.

Stars scattered endlessly across the velvet dark. The moon hung low and luminous, painting silver edges onto Hikari’s hair as the wind brushed against us.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

Scene 3: Letters to the Moon

Hikari sat cross-legged on the cold rooftop, pulling a small notepad and two envelopes from her bag.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“Letters,” she said simply. “To the moon.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

She grinned. “Exactly. That’s why it’s fun.”

She handed me a page and a pen. “Write something. Anything. To your future self, or to no one at all. Then fold it, and we’ll give it to the moon.”

I frowned, but she was already scribbling furiously on her paper, her brow furrowed in concentration.

After a long moment, I started writing too, though clumsily:

 If you’re reading this someday… I hope you’re not still alone.

When I looked up, Hikari was sealing her envelope with a small sticker shaped like a star.

“What did you write?” I asked.

She smiled faintly. “A secret. You’ll never know.”

Scene 4: The Release

We stood side by side at the edge of the rooftop. The night air was cool, the sound of crickets rising from the dark forest below.

“Okay,” she said. “On three.”

We tossed the envelopes upward. Of course, they didn’t fly to the moon—they drifted clumsily, caught by the wind, spinning into the trees below.

We both burst out laughing.

“That was so stupid,” I said between laughs.

“Exactly,” she said, her laughter softer. “But wasn’t it fun?”

Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, but there was a heaviness there too, something unspoken.

Scene 5: A Fragile Moment

As the laughter faded, I noticed Hikari’s breathing had grown uneven. She pressed a hand against her chest, her other hand braced on the railing.

“Hey—are you okay?”

She nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… thinner air up here. Nothing to worry about.”

But her shoulders trembled, and for the first time, I saw her swallow back pain she didn’t want me to notice.

“Hikari—”

She cut me off gently. “Haruki, don’t ruin the night.”

Her voice was firm, but her eyes were pleading.

So I stayed quiet, though my chest ached.

Scene 6: The Promise

We sat down again, leaning against the railing, watching the stars in silence.

After a while, Hikari spoke, her voice soft:

“Promise me something.”

“What?”

“No matter what happens… even if one day I’m not here… you’ll keep looking up at the sky. You’ll keep finding places like this. And you’ll remember that I was with you once.”

The words made my throat tighten. “You’re talking like…”

“Shh.” She tilted her head, smiling faintly. “Just promise.”

I stared at her for a long time, the moonlight framing her face like something too fragile for this world.

“…I promise.”

She leaned her head on my shoulder then, quiet, almost weightless.

And for the first time, I wished I could stop time right there, on that forgotten rooftop, under the endless sky.

[To Be Continued in Chapter 8]