I was still staring at that old photograph.
There I was—facing the sun, squinting like I was trying to decode its true intentions.
And him… standing right behind me.
Like a ghost.
Or maybe a guardian.
A silent kid who had my back—a fragile, cancer-ridden boy whose dreams blended with the ticking of a hospital clock.
I was someone trying to understand life.
He was someone simply trying to stay alive.
And now, years later, somehow... he was still there.
In the shadows.
Quietly waiting.
Like he never left. Or worse, like I never let him go.
Why do old ghosts never knock before walking into your thoughts?
Just then, Mizuki placed her hands on my shoulders and shook me back into reality with a voice loud enough to rival the emergency drills.
"Don't lose yourself like this, Takashi," she said. "Our past always walks beside us. Sometimes it even jumps ahead of us, waving its arms and tripping us over. Look at me—I still can't shake off mine. I'm a terrible person, painted with the mess of my whole family's mistakes."
Great, now we're both haunted. Maybe we should start a club.
For a moment, it felt like someone had jammed a stick between the gears in my head. Everything stopped.
I thought about what she said.
She couldn't undo her past like it was a typo, but she wasn't trying to bury it either.
She stood face to face with her regrets and somehow used them as motivational quotes.
Brave… or slightly unhinged. Possibly both.
I looked at her and said,
"If you think I'm going to tell you that you're not a bad person, you're seriously mistaken. But I do see you're trying. Trying to repaint yourself in brighter colors—scrubbing away the black. That counts for something."
I paused. My voice tightened.
"I'm not like you, Mizuki. Ren wasn't my mistake. And now I can't help but wonder—why is he showing up now, not talking to me like we're old friends again? What exactly does he want?"
Her voice trembled—uncertain, soft, almost like she didn't want to say the wrong thing.
"I don't know what he wants either," she admitted. "But I do know this—he doesn't see you as a friend. I'm sure of that. be cautious of him, Takashi."
Oh good. Cryptic and unsettling. Just what I needed tonight.
I stood up.
"Don't worry. When have you ever seen me not standing tall?" I said, trying to sound cool but probably just sounding tired.
"And I've stood tall even against you."
And with that, I walked out before she could respond. A bit dramatic? Maybe. But hey, we all need an exit line.
Outside, the city lights shimmered against the night like restless thoughts that didn't know where to land.
I stared at them as I breathed in deeply.
Squinted a little, just enough to let them blur into soft fireworks on the edge of my vision.
It was beautiful, in a messy kind of way.
Just like my memories.
Just like everything I didn't want to deal with.
Accepting Ren's return.
Accepting Mizuki's transformation.
Making sense of how I felt about Hinata.
It all exploded like fireworks—loud, bright, fleeting.
Maybe that's how life works.
Maybe you're not supposed to understand the light show.
Maybe you're just supposed to shut up and watch it with wide eyes like a confused kid at a festival.
By the time that epiphany passed, I was already at the Shibuya metro.
Found an empty seat.
Collapsed into it like I was melting into the past.
And I fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes, I was nowhere near where I wanted to be.
I was back at the orphanage.
Classic.
I dragged myself to my old bunk bed, flopped onto it like a retired soldier, and waited for the morning to arrive—
—again.