The winter air was crisp as Ayaka, Kei, and Kai stepped out of the car, their boots crunching over the light dusting of snow that blanketed the quiet street.
The neighborhood was serene, nestled between rows of trees stripped bare for the season.
Birds chirped faintly from above, and the occasional bark from a distant dog punctuated the silence.
"This is the last one for today." Kei said, glancing at the information on his phone.
"It's not a high-rise like your old place, but it's in a quiet neighborhood, recently renovated, and it's pretty spacious."
Kai tilted his head at the small gate in front of them, behind which stood a modern two-story villa-style apartment unit. "Looks like a whole house." he murmured. "Not bad at all."
Ayaka's heart thudded as she took it in.
A small garden wrapped around the side, dormant now but clearly well-kept.
A porch light framed the wooden front door, casting a soft amber glow even in daylight.
The entire building had a clean, modern design—whitewashed walls with dark timber accents, large windows, and a warm stone path leading up to the entrance.
They were greeted by the agent and invited inside.
The moment Ayaka stepped in, she froze.
The space opened into a wide living area with wooden floors and sunlight pouring in from tall windows.
An L-shaped kitchen and dining nook overlooked the main room, complete with hanging lights, dark countertops, and bar stools.
But what stunned her was the staircase that curled gracefully up to the second floor.
"You said there were three rooms?" she asked softly.
"Yes." the agent replied. "One large master bedroom, a guest room, and a smaller room perfect for an office or library. There's also a full bath upstairs and another half bath downstairs."
Ayaka climbed the stairs slowly, her fingers gliding along the smooth railing.
At the top, the hallway branched left and right.
Each room had large windows with scenic views—trees, rooftops, and a little park nearby.
The master bedroom had a small balcony, and even in winter, she could imagine sitting there with tea and a book.
"It's beautiful..." she whispered. "It's not flashy… but it feels alive."
Kei nodded in approval. "It's a house that breathes. Feels like you could build memories here. Fresh ones."
Ayaka gave a quiet laugh, then turned toward the large window in the hallway.
Her voice lowered.
"I think… this is the one."
They sealed the contract and the apartment was Ayaka's.
-----
On the day of moving out...
She stood in the entryway, eyes roaming over the once-grand space that had become a cage of memories.
The kitchen still held the outline of where Akihiko once stood, calmly brewing tea.
Her couch, now gone, used to be where they'd sat shoulder-to-shoulder, neither willing to speak their hearts aloud.
Even the hallway held his ghost—those rare glances, the soft laughter, the quiet tension between them.
She walked slowly to the balcony, the one where they'd stood under the stars, pretending to be just neighbors.
The wind was cold, but it didn't bite. Instead, it felt like a breath—a sigh from a chapter ending.
Ayaka placed her hand on the railing. "You mattered." she whispered, voice trembling. "But I have to let go."
There were no dramatic tears, just a deep exhale from the depths of her soul.
She took one last look around, stepped inside, and left the keys on the counter.
As Ayaka stepped out of the apartment building, it was sunny, unusually warm for January.
-----
Kei drove the moving van, and Kai supervised the boxes like a commander in charge of a delicate operation.
Ayaka stood in the middle of her new living room, watching sunlight spill across the floor, warming her to her bones.
"Couch here?" Kai asked, pointing.
"Mm-hmm." she murmured.
"Bookshelves in the study room upstairs, right?" Kei added.
"Yes, please."
Bit by bit, the place transformed into something entirely hers.
The living room was spacious and bright, a soft tan rug lying beneath her new cream-colored sectional.
Upstairs, Ayaka placed her books into shelves along the study's back wall, her fingers brushing over each title with reverence.
The master bedroom had soft beige curtains and her old desk by the balcony door, where the light could pour in as she wrote.
The guest room remained empty for now—just a mattress and a simple lamp—but that emptiness was no longer lonely. It was potential.
Her new home didn't echo with old laughter.
It didn't ache with memories she couldn't bear to relive.
It was quiet, modern, and warm.
A little villa tucked away from the noise and grief, offering her a second chance.
That evening, Ayaka stood on her bedroom balcony, the sky blushing with twilight.
Below, Kei and Kai were arguing playfully over who had the better sense of interior design.
She smiled faintly, her heart full.
Yet again, she touched the necklace on her neck given by Akihiko.
Deep inside, she was still wishing, he was here.
The next day...
Ayaka adjusted a strand of hair behind her ear as she set down a tray of sushi rolls on the dining table.
The apartment buzzed with quiet anticipation, every corner touched with soft lights and the comforting scent of home-cooked food.
Her new place wasn't as grand or luxurious as her old apartment, but it felt warm, alive—a quiet villa-style space nestled in a peaceful neighborhood.
A modern, two-story home with clean finishes and natural light, and most importantly, peace.
This was hers. A fresh start.
From the open kitchen, she glanced toward the entryway, where a neat row of slippers waited.
Voices echoed in the stairwell—and then, the front door burst open.
"WE'RE HERE!" Kazumi called, practically skipping into the room with arms full of snacks and gift bags. "I brought everything we needed to make this night unforgettable!"
Following close behind was Keiko, graceful in a long beige coat, and Yuki, who lit up the room with her usual sparkle.
"Wow!" Yuki breathed, stepping inside. "Ayaka, this place is gorgeous! Cozy but still so you."
Keiko nodded in approval. "Very clean lines, open air… It feels peaceful. Like you can breathe here."
Ayaka beamed. "That's exactly what I was hoping for."
"I still miss the luxury bathtub in your old apartment." Kazumi added dramatically, "But okay, fine, this wins for vibe."
"Where do we put these?" Yuki asked, raising a bottle of sparkling juice and a tray of cupcakes decorated like little snowflakes.
"Anywhere's fine." Ayaka smiled, leading them toward the dining table. "I kept everything casual. It's just us tonight."
Soon, the apartment filled with the sounds of laughter and footsteps.
Kei and Kai arrived minutes later, carrying grocery bags filled with drinks, extra food, and one suspiciously wrapped box Kai claimed was a "Housewarming mystery."
"You're not putting a live creature in my kitchen again, are you?" Ayaka deadpanned as she hugged him.
Kai feigned offense. "That gecko was a gift of protection!"
"It gave me a heart attack!" she muttered, but she couldn't stop smiling.
Takeshi—arrived last, dressed in a tidy sweater and scarf, holding a small potted plant with a gold bow. "For your new beginning." he said gently, placing it on the windowsill.
"Thank you!" Ayaka murmured, touched.
"No Yuriko tonight?" Takeshi asked.
Ayaka shook her head. "She really wanted to come, but she's still in Morocco. She's been traveling non-stop since summer. But she promised to crash here next time she's in Japan."
Everyone eventually gathered around the table, sharing food, stories, teasing jokes.
Laughter filled every corner of the home.
It wasn't extravagant—it didn't need to be. The soft hum of joy, the smell of home-cooked meals, and the warmth of people who loved her—that was more than enough.
Kazumi, already halfway through her third glass of sparkling juice, pointed a dramatic finger at Ayaka. "Okay. This is important. This place? It's a total love nest."
Ayaka froze mid-bite. "Excuse me?"
Keiko smirked. "She's right. The lighting, the view from the second floor, the little nook in the reading corner..."
"It's giving a domestic romance heroine." Yuki giggled.
"I've had enough romance novels." Ayaka groaned.
Everyone turned silent. Yet Kai leaned in. "It's okay, Ayaka. New home, new energy, right?"
Ayaka nodded while smiling.
Takeshi, lifted his glass. "To new beginnings. For our Ayaka—who never stops writing her story, even when the chapters are hard."
Everyone raised their glasses—mugs, juice bottles, and even Kazumi's cans of peach soda.
"To Ayaka!"
She blinked back at the heat in her eyes.
This—this was what she needed.
Her heart still bore quiet scars, and the shadows of the past hadn't entirely faded, but she was rebuilding.
Surrounded by the people who never gave up on her.
Late night after everyone's gone...
The apartment was quiet again.
The last of the dishes had been washed and stacked.
The guest slippers were neatly lined by the door.
The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound that filled the space now that her brothers and friends had gone.
Ayaka sat on the edge of her bed, fingers loosely clasped around a warm mug of tea she hadn't touched.
The steam had long faded.
Her gaze wandered to the tall window across from her desk, where moonlight filtered through sheer curtains and spilled across the floor like silk.
The new apartment was everything she needed—peaceful, warm, safe.
Everyone said she was moving on so well.
Even she had started to believe it, at least during the day.
But at night… the nights still belonged to him.
Ayaka tilted her head back, eyes fluttering shut.
The celebration had left her heart full—yet now, in the solitude, it felt hollow again.
She hated it.
Hated how her mind wandered to him the moment silence fell.
Hated that no matter how hard she tried to build a new chapter, Akihiko remained—etched into every blank space like ink that refused to fade.
It had been months since he disappeared.
Since she sat outside his door night after night, waiting for him that never came.
Everyone around her had tiptoed gently at first.
Then they tried to distract her.
Then… they assumed she'd healed.
She smiled for them.
She had even laughed.
But inside, part of her still waited.
Still hoped.
She reached for the necklace he gave, grasping it tightly.
"Do you still think of me too?" she wondered.
It was a question she had asked herself countless times in the dark.
Akihiko had always been hard to read—cold at times, distant.
But when he was with her, there had been something else.
Something undeniable in the way his gaze lingered, in the way he touched her so gently, like he was terrified to break something fragile.
And yet, he'd left.
No reason.
No warning.
Just silence.
She closed her eyes, remembering the sound of his voice, the way her name had sounded when he said it, soft and low like a secret.
The way he'd teased her one moment and held her the next, as if he didn't know how to let go.
But he had let go.
She was the only one who hadn't.
A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn't bother to wipe it away.
She could cry here, in this quiet.
No one had to know.
Not Kei.
Not Kai.
Not Kazumi, or Keiko, or Yuki or even Takeshi.
They all thought she was better now—and in some ways, she was.
But not in this way.
In this way, she was still standing in the ruins of something she never got to finish.
Still clinging to a love that had never had a proper goodbye.
Still waiting for a knock on the door that never came.
She whispered his name like a prayer, voice barely audible. "Akihiko…"
The name hovered in the air for a moment, then disappeared, swallowed by the silence.
Ayaka slowly turned away from the window.
She crawled into bed, curling up on h
er side, facing the empty space beside her.
She used to imagine him there, when the pain was new.
Pretend his warmth was still close, his scent still lingering on her sheets.
Now she just tried to fall asleep before the memories found her.
But they always did.
And tonight was no different.