Chapter 9: On My Way

‘The way there is already where the heart waits—the closer he gets, the less the distance matters.’

Another day another sun greeting me through the thin curtain.

The air feels fresh, the sunlight warm.

I feel like I have a lot to do… but my mind—it's empty.

I let out a small laugh, lying back on my bed, the sheets cool against my skin as I reach for my phone.

“Right… I haven’t read his messages since yesterday.”

Feeling half guilty, I open the app, scroll to his tab—Ren.

The screen lights up with unread bubbles.

A flood of messages, some from two days ago, stacked one after another.

I sigh softly. 

My thumb hovers for a moment before I tap on the most recent one.

「おはよう、」

(“Good morning..”)

A simple greeting.

But somehow, it makes my chest tighten a little—like a quiet reminder of how consistent he is, even when I’m not.

Scrolling up, I notice the ones before that:

「無事に着けた？」

(“Did you arrive safely?”)

「おやすみね」

(“Sleep well..”)

「今日どうだった？」

(“How was your day today?”)

I purse my lips, feeling warmth and guilt mix together in my chest.

He always talks like that—not demanding, not overbearing—just quietly there.

I start typing a reply, then, finally, I send.

“Morning.”

The typing indicator pops up almost instantly.

Typing… then gone.

Typing again… then gone again.

Nothing comes out.

Somehow, I already miss that little quirk of his—the kind of awkward persistence that always manages to cheer me up.

Just as I’m about to set my phone down, it buzzes again.

His message lights up the screen:

「今日、東京に行くんえ。」

(“I’m coming to Tokyo today.”)

A moment later—

「会いに行く」

(“To meet…”)

Then, after a pause—

「…友だち」

(“…a friend.”)

I stop for a moment, staring at the words.

‘So he really isn’t here…’

I recall Atsu saying something about Ren leaving early.

It makes sense now.

I type back:

“Atsu?”

A short pause.

Then, instead of words, a sticker appears—a little cartoon character puffing its cheeks, letting out a dramatic sigh.

I let out a small smile, lying flat on my bed, eyes tracing the faint patterns on the ceiling as I clench my phone lightly in my hand.

Then, almost without thinking, I type —

“Do you know any good kakigōri places?”

“I want some.”

His reply came faster than I expected.

“I’ll bring you.”

A tiny laugh escapes me.

I type back, simply—

“Okay.”

After such a long day yesterday, I feel like eating something refreshing.

‘I’m glad he’s here.’

The thought slips through my mind before I can stop it.

As if, somewhere along the way, I’d already allowed myself to depend on him.

After lightly packing his things, Ren stepped out toward the train station.

The platform air in Kyoto still carried the faint scent of rain.

Morning light pooled between the rails—silver and soft—catching on the edge of his suitcase as he boarded the train. 

He’d told his parents it was just a short trip, to meet friends in Tokyo. 

That was true, at least on the surface.

He found his seat by the window and watched the city recede in silence. 

The Shinkansen pulled away with a sound like breath being drawn in—quiet, steady, inevitable. 

Outside, Kyoto’s familiar streets dissolved into mountains, then fields, then nothing but the deep, clean blue of dusk.

His phone lay face down on the tray table. 

He could have texted her—a simple “on my way”—but the words felt too direct, too revealing for something he couldn’t yet name. 

Instead, he leaned back, the rhythm of the train syncing with the quiet weight in his chest.

Somewhere between stations, his reflection shimmered faintly against the glass, overlapping with streaks of passing light.

He smiled to himself, almost shyly.

「友達に会う」 

(“to meet a friend..”) he murmured.

As if saying it again might make it true.

But even he couldn’t ignore the quiet pull beneath those words.

The one that had made him pack too carefully, dress a little better than usual, and check the arrival time twice.

It wasn’t just Tokyo waiting for him.

It was her..

The train continued its journey, cutting through the last stretch of cityscape before slowing into Tokyo Station.

As the doors slid open, a familiar voice called out from the crowd.

Atsu.

Ren’s expression twisted immediately—half relief, half irritation—at the sight of the guy who somehow always managed to get under his skin.

「今度は何？」

(“What do you want this time?”)

Atsu, unfazed as ever, lifted his phone and spoke loudly enough for Ren—and a few passersby—to hear.

「はい、お母さま、彼来てます。」

(“Yes, Auntie, he’s here..”)

Ren froze for half a second, his brow twitching upward in disbelief before storming toward him.

「お前ぇ！！」

(“You—!!”)

Atsu dodged easily, leaning just out of reach with a smirk, leaving Ren to stumble a step forward, his suitcase tilting dangerously.

Atsu chuckled, catching the handle before it hit the ground.

Ren shot him a glare—the kind that said ‘I came all the way here and this is my welcome?’.

But the corner of his mouth was already threatening to lift.

The two of them stepped out of the station, weaving through the morning crowd.

The air in Tokyo felt different—heavier somehow, full of noise and motion 

But Ren couldn’t tell if that was just the city, or his own nerves.

Atsu glanced sideways, hands tucked in his pockets, the grin never quite leaving his face.

「で？、友だちに会いに来たって？」

(“So?.. You said you’re here to meet a friend?”)

Ren gave him a sharp look.

「うるせぇ。」

(“Shut up.”)

For a moment, silence hung between them—broken only by the rush of the train departing behind them.

Atsu chuckled lightly, then said.

「お前、ずっとスマホ見てたじゃん。なんか解決すると思った？」

(“You’ve been staring at your phone for weeks — thought it was gonna solve your life?”)

Ren didn’t answer, but the faint color on his face gave him away.

He muttered something under his breath.

「ほっとけよ…」

(“Leave me alone…”)

The city lights flickered across his face as they turned the corner, the soft hum of Tokyo morning wrapping around them.

While walking, Atsu lifted up his cigarette, about to light it.

Ren’s eyes twitched.

「あぁぁっ！？　おい！」

(“Ah— hey!!”)

Ren snatched it from his mouth and threw it away.

Atsu froze for a second.

「なんだよ！」

(“What the hell!?”)

Before he could say anything, Ren cut him off.

「これから彼女に会うんだよ。煙くせぇのやめろ。」

(“I’m meeting her later—don’t get your damn smoke on me.”)

Atsu clicked his tongue, glaring.

「チッ…」

(“Tch….”)

Ren didn’t answer—only smirked faintly, as they walked on through the brightening streets.

Later that afternoon, Ren stood near the station exit, the crowd flowing endlessly around him. 

The city gleamed under the mellow sunlight, and the noise of people talking, footsteps, and distant train announcements filled the air—everything felt too real.

He checked his reflection in a nearby glass panel—straightened his hair, adjusted his collar, then frowned.

「…なんで緊張してんだよ、俺。」

(“...Why am I even nervous?”)

He let out a small sigh, pocketing his phone—just as a message came in.

A simple one.

“You arrived?”

His heart jumped a little.

「うん、今ついた。」

(“Yeah, just got here.”)

He typed back quickly, then looked up—scanning the crowd.

And then, there she was.

Arin.

Her hair brushed lightly by the wind, her expression soft, almost surprised to see him—like she wasn’t quite sure if it was really happening.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. 

Just the sound of cars passing, and the faint melody of some street performer nearby.

Ren scratched the back of his neck, his voice awkwardly low.

「…行く？」

(“...Let’s go?”)

She let out a quiet laugh—the same kind that always disarmed him, gentle and real.

「うん、行こ。」

(“Yeah, let’s go.”)

And just like that, the two of them started walking side by side.

The space between them is small, yet filled with unspoken warmth.

Along the way, Arin finally spoke, her voice breaking the gentle rhythm of their footsteps.

“Have you checked the place?”

Ren paused for a moment before answering.

“Yeah… there’s a place I know.”

She stopped walking, just slightly, something flickering behind her calm expression.

“It can’t be just some random place.” 

She said quietly.

“Unn?..” 

Ren blinked, caught off guard. 

His brows knitted for a second, unsure what she meant. 

The air between them grew faintly awkward, laced with the sound of traffic and faint summer wind.

Then, suddenly, his words tumbled out—quick, almost flustered.

“I– I already checked the place!!.. I asked the people there. There won’t be any problem with your diet, I made sure.”

Arin turned her head back to look at him. 

His face carried a hint of nervous sincerity that almost made her laugh.

She exhaled softly, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips.

“…I see.” 

She murmured, her tone lightening.

The tension eased as they resumed walking, side by side again—the distance between them now a little smaller, the silence warmer than before.

“Are you sure?” 

She continued, her tone soft but teasing.

“I… always make sure.” 

He replied, a little too quickly. 

“Nothing will go wrong. I promised you, didn’t I?”

“That makes it sound like you have nothing else to do.” 

She said lightly, her voice laced with quiet humor.

“What do you mean?” 

His tone dropped low—half sulking, half genuinely puzzled, as if trying to read her intention.

Arin slowed her steps, eyes still fixed ahead. 

“It sounds like… you’ve been thinking a lot about me.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, carried gently by the wind—but somehow, he heard it.

He stopped walking, turning slightly toward her. When he spoke, his voice was steady, quiet, but honest.

“I always do.” 

He said.

“Since the first time I saw you… when we started getting close… and even now.”

The sound of his words hung in the air—simple, sincere, and a little unguarded.