Kana stood under the shower, the warm water cascading over her long brown hair, drenching it as the droplets slid down her body. The steam filled the bathroom, making the air thick and warm around her, but Kana didn't mind. She closed her eyes, letting the soothing warmth wash away the tiredness from her bones. Just outside the door, Jane stood silently, as always, ready to assist if needed—whether it was to fetch a towel or rush in if Kana lost her balance.
As the water drizzled down, Kana let herself relax for a moment, but soon, memories of the previous night began to bubble to the surface. Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Rose. The excitement of their exchange, the way she had finally found a friend, someone she could talk to openly without judgment made her heart swell with joy. A smile crept onto her face, and she bit her lip, unable to suppress her childish giggle.
It felt like a small miracle. For years, Kana had lived in solitude, her only real interactions with the doctors and nurses who came in and out of her life. But now, Rose was different. She was someone Kana could call a friend. Someone who didn't just pity her, but genuinely liked her for who she was.
As Kana thought back to their conversation, the smile on her face widened. She had never felt so connected to another person, especially a girl. In the past, friendships with other girls had always been fraught with distance—maybe because of her health, maybe because of the way she had been treated for so long. But Rose was different. Rose was the first female friend she had made in years, and the bond they had formed felt like something special.
Kana giggled again as she recalled the conversation, the warmth of it spreading through her chest. It was a feeling she hadn't known in so long, but it was a feeling she wanted to hold onto.
The joy she felt from that conversation reminded her of something Dr. Kennedy had said to her on her birthday, when he gave her the new phone—a lifeline to the world beyond her hospital room.
****
Kana, unsure and vulnerable, had asked Dr. Kennedy one afternoon, her voice barely above a whisper:
"I don't know, Mr. Kennedy. Even if I reach out to people… won't they still forget me?"
Dr. Kennedy, with his usual gentle smile, had patted her head, a soft and reassuring gesture.
"Then give them a reason to never forget you."
****
The memory of Dr. Kennedy's words echoed in her mind. He had been right. She could make an impact. She could be remembered.
A smile tugged at her lips, water dripping from her chin.
Kana: You keep giving me reasons to thank you, Dr. Kennedy.
Her heart swelled with excitement. She couldn't wait to share this with the people who mattered—Jane, Dr. Kennedy… and John.
Jane was already outside. Kana didn't worry about her. Jane was always there. And later, she'd see Dr. Kennedy in person.
But John…
He hadn't been on Twibbler in days. The silence left a quiet ache. Was it school? Or something deeper about his family, maybe? She recalled the tension in his voice when he'd spoken about his mother. It lingered in her mind.
Her smile faltered. The warm water turned cold. She shivered.
She looked down at her legs as the water swirled past them. She wanted to reach out to text him, call him but her fingers always froze above the screen. What if he didn't respond? What if something was wrong?
She tightened her grip on the shower handle, trying to steady her thoughts. But her heart wouldn't calm. John's face flashed in her mind.
Her cheeks flushed. She turned her head, hoping the steam would hide it.
Kana (softly): John... I want to talk to you…
*********
The classroom was eerily quiet. It was a study period, and everyone had their heads down, poring over their textbooks in preparation for the upcoming mock exams at the end of the month, or possibly the beginning of October. The room was filled with the soft rustling of pages turning, but no one spoke a word. The teacher sat at the front, silently observing the students as they studied, the kind of silence that felt almost oppressive. It was a far cry from the usual chaos of the class—laughing, chatting, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. The sudden stillness in the air felt unfamiliar, almost suffocating.
John sat at his desk, eyes skimming over the words in his book, though his mind was nowhere near the material. His gaze drifted to the front of the room, where Rachel had always sat. The seat was empty, and the sight hit him harder than he expected. The empty desk was a stark reminder of the emotional turmoil that had unfolded over the past few days.
He sighed and turned his attention back to the book in front of him, but the words seemed to blur as memories of recent events played over in his mind like an unskippable loop.
His thoughts wandered back to Monday—the start of the final year of high school. The day Rachel had confessed her feelings for him. He hadn't been prepared for it, hadn't expected it. But then again, life had a funny way of throwing things at you when you least expected them.
The very next day, he had gone to Kana for advice on how to help Rose. He had received guidance from Ms. Marie, who had told him to do what was best for him, what was true. And then, on Tuesday, he had gone to Rachel's house to have a conversation with her. It wasn't one he had wanted to have, but it was necessary. He had told her he didn't return her feelings, that they could only be friends. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, but the words had still come out cold, and things had ended badly.
Rachel had taken the rejection hard. Her face had crumpled, and for a brief moment, he had regretted not telling her he felt the same. But then, he reminded himself, it would have been a lie. He had to be honest. It was better this way. He couldn't lead her on. It would only cause more pain in the long run.
The next day, Wednesday, Rachel hadn't come to school. She'd been absent all day, and John felt a knot form in his stomach. He had told Joseph and Ivan everything—how Rachel had confessed, how he'd rejected her, how she kissed him and how things had gone downhill after that. They had listened, and while they had been understanding, John couldn't shake the feeling that he had been responsible for Rachel's absence. If he hadn't rejected her, would she have come to school? Would she have been alright?
Thursday came, and Rachel was still absent. It was the second day, and John couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt each time he glanced at her empty desk. He couldn't shake the thought that he was the reason she was hurting, the reason she wasn't there. He had broken something, and he didn't know how to fix it.
John: (to himself) Would it have been better if I told her I liked her? No… it was a good thing I told her the truth. If I kept lying to her, I'd only hurt her more. Regardless of her reaction, I did the right thing.
John recalled Rachel's words, when she'd said she was the one who had made the memories with him and he sighed deeply.
John: (to himself) Those memories are why I treasure our friendship, and why I had to tell you I didn't feel the same. I didn't want to lie and risk ruining what we had. But… it seems like things are falling apart anyway.
As his mind replayed that conversation with Rachel, another memory surfaced—one he wasn't sure he was ready to face. It was of Kana. The thought of her came to him so suddenly, it startled him. Her warm, reassuring smile flashed in his mind, her presence comforting and steady.
For reasons he couldn't explain, Kana had been in his thoughts ever since that conversation with Rachel. She had been there, even when Rachel confessed her feelings, even when John had rejected her. Kana's face had appeared in his mind uninvited, like a whisper in the back of his mind.
John: (to himself) Ever since I rejected Rachel, it's been so hard to talk to her… to text her. I've tried—over and over again—but it's suddenly so difficult. Why?
His thoughts blurred again, and suddenly, time seemed to slow down. The classroom around him faded, and all that remained was the clamor of his own mind, filled with questions he didn't know how to answer.
He didn't understand it.
He didn't understand it at all.
John ran a hand through his hair, as his frustration grew.
John: (to himself) Why? Why were you in my thoughts then?
******
The evening air had a distinct chill, and with the temperature dropping, there was no need for the air conditioning in the supermarket. It had been hours since any customers had walked in, leaving John to sit behind the checkout counter, a bored expression on his face.
His phone lay on the counter in front of him, its screen glowing faintly. Despite it being right there, he found himself hesitating to pick it up. He knew exactly who he wanted to text—Kana—but the thought of reaching out felt like a daunting task, one he couldn't quite bring himself to do.
His mind wandered, going over everything from his mundane shift at the supermarket to his frustrating silence with Kana. But before he could dive too deeply into his thoughts, something unexpected happened. A wad of cash came flying at him, landing squarely on his head with a soft thud. The sudden hit jerked John out of his thoughts, and he stared in surprise as the cash fluttered down onto his lap.
Rubbing his head, he turned his attention to the source of the disruption, and there, standing a few meters away, was Ms. Marie, wearing a smirk that suggested she was pleased with herself.
John: (cartoonish expression) Hey!!! What was that for?!
Ms. Marie only gave him an exaggerated shrug.
Ms. Marie: I'm hungry. Go to the ramen shop and get me some takeaway ramen and a couple of drinks.
John: (to himself) She's ignoring my question?
John couldn't help but furrow his brow. They don't usually close till around 10 PM, though. Despite the oddity of her behavior, he sighed and began to count the cash. Takeaway ramen usually cost around 500 yen, and a drink was another 150.
That meant the total should have been about 650 yen.
But when he looked at the wad in his hands, he realized it was 1,300 yen.
He stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Ms. Marie, who was already turning to leave.
Ms. Marie, noticing his confusion, responded,
Ms. Marie: You can get something for yourself too. That's why I added extra. You look like you haven't eaten today.
John: Oh… (pauses) Thanks, Ms. Marie.
Ms. Marie: Anytime, kiddo. Now hurry up and get there before they close.
John: (to himself) They don't usually close until around 10 PM, though.
With that, John grabbed the money, pocketed his phone, and dashed out of the supermarket. The cold evening air stung his face as he made his way through the quiet streets, running to the ramen shop. Normally, this time of night would mean a crowd of hungry patrons filling the tiny shop, but tonight was different. He was lucky—there was no line. That was until he reached the counter.
Sorry, kid, the owner said, shaking his head. You'll have to wait a little while. The noodles aren't ready yet. You'll have to wait.
John stood there, frustrated, his stomach growling in protest.
John: (to himself) Great… just perfect.
Sighing, John moved to sit on the bench outside the ramen shop. In the middle of his annoyance and grumbling, he didn't notice someone walking behind him and accidentally bumping into him. The impact caused all the papers she was holding to scatter across the ground.
John immediately turned around, cursing himself for not noticing her in time.
John: Oh, shit! I'm so sorry. Let me help!
The girl was already bending down to collect the papers, but John's hands worked quickly to gather them alongside her. As he picked up one of the sheets, he noticed that the papers were filled with neatly written short stories. He squinted, an odd sense of familiarity tugging at the back of his mind.
Wait a minute… It clicked. Kana had mentioned something about short stories recently, something that seemed to echo this moment.
****
"You won't believe this… someone actually messaged me for writing advice."
"Yeah! Her name's Rose. She said her teacher told her that her story lacked a 'soul.' Like, what does that even mean? And then she said she's been following my posts and thinks I can help her find one."
****
As John helped the girl to her feet, he couldn't help but notice her glasses, her nervous fidgeting, and the familiar stack of short stories in her hands. This had to be Rose—the same person Kana had told him about.
John: I'm really sorry. I didn't notice you there.
Rose: (nervously) No, no. It's my fault. I was so engrossed in reading my short stories that I didn't look where I was going.
John: Short stories, huh?
Rose: "???"
Hearing the words "short story" the realization hit him like a wave, and without thinking, he blurted out his next question.
John: Say... is your name, by any chance, Rose?
Rose froze, caught completely off guard. Her mind raced, thinking that John might be a pervert who had been stalking her, which only made her more nervous.
Rose: Huh?! How do you know my name?!
John's face flushed as he realized how odd it must seem for him to suddenly know her name. His mind raced, trying to figure out how to explain himself. He could see the fear creeping into her eyes.
John: Whoa, sorry! That came out wrong, didn't it? I'm not a creep, I swear. It's just... I think we both know the same person—Kana.
At the mention of Kana's name, Rose's demeanor shifted instantly. Her nervousness seemed to fade, and she looked at him with renewed interest.
John: She mentioned a girl named Rose who asked her for writing advice the other day. Said you were working on short stories, and… well, it kind of clicked just now. Unless I'm wrong and got the wrong person?
Rose adjusted her glasses nervously, still eyeing him carefully, but her lips twitched upward into a tentative smile.
Rose: Yeah... you're right. My name's Rose, and it seems we both know Kana.
There was a brief silence as the two of them exchanged uncertain glances. Then, as if by instinct, they both said the same thing in unison.
"Lonelygirl4556?"
They both froze. And then, unable to hold back, they burst into laughter. It was a shared moment of recognition, the coincidence of it all too perfect to ignore.
John grinned, shaking his head in disbelief.
John: Small world, huh?
Rose laughed too, though it was a little shy.
Rose: Yeah… I guess so.