By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Kana, John, Dr. Kennedy, and Jane left the beach, carrying with them the warmth of the sand and the echo of waves, a bittersweet reminder of their fleeting time together.
With no place to stay for the night, John accepted Dr. Kennedy's offer to spend the night at his home, where he could easily catch a train in the morning. But before parting, he and Kana faced the goodbye neither wanted. Words failed them, so they simply smiled and waved, their silence speaking louder than anything they could say.
As John followed Dr. Kennedy, Kana turned away with Jane, her chest aching from the weight of letting go. Jane's eyes caught on John's wrist, he wore the bracelet Kana's mother had given her. She kept the discovery to herself, but the quiet truth made her smile.
Both Kana and John kept glancing back, trying to stretch the moment, until the path curved and shadows swallowed their sight of each other. Yet the memory lingered—the silent goodbye, the fragile bond, and the promise carried by a simple bracelet.
*****
After nearly an hour of walking, Dr. Kennedy and John finally arrived at the doctor's apartment. It was a modest place—smaller than John had anticipated. From what he had heard about doctors and their salaries, he had expected something more luxurious or extravagant.
John: (to himself) Maybe he's the type who doesn't like flashy things…?
Dr. Kennedy reached into his coat pocket, fished out a bunch of jingling keys, and inserted one into the lock. With a gentle twist and a soft click, the door creaked open.
Dr. Kennedy: Take off your shoes before you step in, okay?
John: Right.
John bent down and slipped off his sneakers, placing them neatly by the door. As he stepped inside, he was immediately struck by how tidy and well-organized the apartment was. The living room was arranged with careful precision—books stacked neatly on shelves, various art posters and prints adorned the cream-colored walls, each one seeming to tell its own story. The floor was completely blanketed in a rich red wine-colored rug that gave the space a warm, grounded feel.
At the end of the room stood a large flat-screen TV, with a sleek AC unit mounted just above it. The hum of it was absent for now, but John could imagine how useful it must be during warmer days.
Dr. Kennedy: (locking the door behind them) You can drop your bag by the couch. Make yourself comfortable. Want something to drink? Water? Juice?
John: (glancing around, taking in the calm atmosphere) Water's fine, thank you. Your place is really neat… feels peaceful.
Dr. Kennedy: (smiling as he moved toward the kitchen) I try to keep things calm. Helps me unwind after long shifts at the hospital.
John: (sitting down slowly, as if trying not to disturb the serenity of the room) I can imagine. You've probably seen all kinds of things.
Dr. Kennedy: (returning with two glasses of water, handing one to John) Too many. But people like Kana… they make it all feel worth it.
John: (looking down at the bracelet on his wrist, then quietly at the glass of water) She really changed a lot of things for me. Hard to explain, but… I see things differently now.
Dr. Kennedy: (sitting beside him, tone softer):l Sometimes, the right person shows up when you don't even realize you need them.
John: (nodding, voice barely above a whisper) Yeah… she definitely did.
A quiet pause settled between them, not uncomfortable, but thoughtful. The kind of silence that comes with shared understanding. They both drank from their glasses, letting the moment stretch gently, like a slow breath.
Once their glasses were empty and set down on the nearby coffee table, Dr. Kennedy shifted slightly in his seat and broke the silence.
Dr. Kennedy: So… I have a question to ask you.
John: Huh? What is it?
Dr. Kennedy: Do you, perhaps… have feelings for Kana?
The question hit John like a wave, catching him completely off guard. He involuntarily coughed, having just taken a sip of water. He covered his mouth, trying to recover, as his mind raced to process what had just been asked.
John: (between coughs) Have feelings for her?!
Dr. Kennedy (calmly, almost apologetically): I know it sounds sudden—and I'm sorry for dropping that on you out of nowhere. But hear me out. Only a handful of people would travel five hours away from their home just to visit someone—especially someone they've only known online—unless there's a deep, meaningful connection involved. And connections like that… they usually have one core emotion at the center. (pauses briefly) That emotion is love.
John: Love?
The word echoed in John's mind as he stared into space, trying to reconcile it with what he felt. He thought back to his time with Kana—the chats, the laughter, the late-night calls, the moments when he found comfort just hearing her voice. And then, his memory replayed one moment in particular: their very first audio call. Her voice, soft and trembling, had said—
"The reason I can't go outside is because I'm really sick… and it's only a matter of time before I die."
That sentence reappeared in his mind like a blade, slicing through the warmth he'd been feeling. His expression shifted slightly, and he looked up at Dr. Kennedy, eyes a little more distant than before.
John: I… I wouldn't call it that. I mean, Kana is probably one of the best things that's happened to me in a long time. We've gotten really close over the past few months, and she means a lot to me… but… I don't think I can label our friendship as love.
Dr. Kennedy leaned in slightly, listening intently.
Dr. Kennedy: Oh really? Is there any reason why you can't label it that way?
The question wasn't invasive. It was thoughtful, almost gentle. But it still hit John harder than expected. Once again, Kana's words echoed in his mind—the reminder that her time was limited, the unshakable reality of her condition. He clenched his fists slightly, a subtle movement, but not subtle enough to escape Dr. Kennedy's notice.
John: Life, I guess.
Dr. Kennedy didn't press further. Those two words carried more weight than a long explanation ever could. The pain in John's voice, the clench of his fists, the way his eyes glossed over slightly—it all told the story. And Dr. Kennedy, with years of experience reading human emotion, knew exactly what John meant. He gave a slight nod, accepting the answer without needing more.
The doctor leaned back, deciding to steer the conversation in a different direction, something lighter.
Dr. Kennedy: So… I heard you read Shadow Bug?
John: (a small smile creeping onto his face) Who doesn't?
*******
By 7:00 AM the following day, John was already seated on the morning train that would take him back to Aozora. The train station had been buzzing with life—festive cheer echoing through every hallway. Christmas decorations hung from every pillar and beam, lights blinking in rhythmic patterns. Familiar holiday tunes filled the air, playing from speakers hidden among wreaths and garlands. The train he had just boarded wasn't any different—its interior adorned with tinsel and red ribbons, with seats wrapped in green fabric covers that resembled tiny elf uniforms.
The station had been full of people—children in Santa hats, adults dressed as elves, families posing for pictures in front of a giant snow-covered Christmas tree. Everyone seemed eager to capture a moment to post on Twibbler. John, however, had other thoughts on his mind.
Dr. Kennedy had already escorted him to the station earlier that morning. He'd been kind, even offering to wait with him until the train arrived, but John had politely declined. What stung, however, was that Kana couldn't make it to see him off.
She usually had her daily checkups scheduled around this time, and Dr. Kennedy had explained this to John multiple times—patiently, kindly—but it didn't stop John from feeling a little disappointed. A small part of him had hoped to catch a final glimpse of her before leaving. Maybe one last laugh. One more moment together.
But there was no point in lingering on it anymore. He was already seated, the train was preparing for departure, and hopefully, unlike yesterday, there would be no delays.
As the train slowly began to pull out of the station, the gentle sway of the carriage lulled John into a thoughtful silence. His mind drifted to the events of the day before—his birthday. For the first time in a long while, he had genuinely enjoyed it. No pretenses. No masks. Just laughter, warmth, and presence.
He looked down at his arm and saw the bracelet Kana had given him—soft, handmade, and delicate in a way that only someone like Kana could've crafted. He smiled at the memory, and a gentle warmth spread through his chest.
John: (to himself) This year's birthday wasn't so bad after all…
Just then, his phone buzzed gently in his pocket. Curious, he took it out, and as expected, a message had come through from the person he most wanted to hear from.
Even while on her way to her checkups, she had found the time to send him a message. It was short, but meaningful. Simple, yet exactly what he needed.
"Hope you have a safe trip back!! ❣️"
He couldn't help but smile at it. That was Kana—always thoughtful, always sincere. He tapped the screen, responded with a thumbs up emoji, and slid his phone back into his pocket.
Then he turned his gaze to the window, watching the city blur into motion as the train gained speed. The buildings became smudges of gray and blue, the snowy landscape painting itself with strokes of white and silver.
But even as he tried to focus on the world outside, that message—her message—resurfaced in his mind. Uninvited, yet welcome. He glanced at the bracelet again, running his fingers lightly over it.
And then, like a dam breaking, it all came rushing back.
Kana's smile from the day before—bright, effortless, and stunning. How she looked when she handed him the bracelet, cheeks slightly red, ponytail bouncing with every movement. The countless video calls they shared. The late-night talks. The missed moments. The teasing banter. The ponytail selfies she knew he liked. The way she always made him feel seen—even when no one else did.
And then, another memory crept in. His conversation with Ms. Marie months ago—one that had stuck with him more than he realized.
"So what's really holding you back? Is it that you don't feel the same way about her? Or… is there something else? Why is it so hard to respond to Rachel?"
"Because you don't see her that way… or because someone else is on your mind?"
At the time, he hadn't known how to respond. Kana had already been on his mind then—quietly, persistently, without permission. He just hadn't seen it for what it was.
But now, after everything that had happened yesterday—after her gift, her presence, her message—he finally understood.
The answer had always been there. Hidden in plain sight.
He let out a long, steady sigh, eyes never leaving the bracelet. Then slowly, he tilted his head upward and stared at the ceiling of the train, as if searching for confirmation from the sky itself.
John: Shit… I'm in love with her.
And this time, the thought didn't scare him.
It felt right.
*********
After her daily checkups, Kana rushed back to her room, a slight smile lingering on her lips. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she reached for her phone, eager to see if John had replied to the message she sent earlier. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his reply—just a simple thumbs up emoji. And yet, for some reason, it made her giggle softly to herself. It was such a John thing to do.
She flopped gently onto her bed, sinking into the pillow as she held her phone to her chest. A calm silence surrounded her, and her thoughts began to wander. Her mind drifted to the events of yesterday—how surreal and heartwarming it had been to finally meet John in person for the first time ever. She could still feel the warmth of that moment lingering in her chest, like an ember refusing to fade.
Then came the memory of her handing John the bracelet—the bracelet that Jane's mother had given her when she was first admitted. It had meant so much to her, and giving it to John had felt like giving away a part of her heart. She could still picture the way he had looked at her when she gave it to him—those eyes of his, soft and intense, filled with something she couldn't quite name, yet desperately craved.
That look. It hadn't left her mind since.
And as she lay there, memories began to flood her. The countless video calls where they talked until she fell asleep. The long chats that stretched into the early hours. The teasing comments. The silly ponytail pictures she'd sent. The tension between them—unspoken, but felt. The warmth in his voice whenever he said her name.
And those moments—those precious moments—when John had made her feel seen. Not just noticed, but understood. He had a way of saying the exact words she didn't even know she needed to hear.
All of it began to replay in her mind like a film reel she couldn't stop, and didn't want to.
And then she remembered that one time…
Jane had looked at her curiously and asked a question that had thrown her completely off guard—
"Do you… perhaps like John?"
Back then, Kana had laughed nervously, brushing it off as nothing. She thought she knew how she felt. She thought she had her answer.
But now… she wasn't so sure.
She had tried—tried so hard—to deny it. To convince herself that she didn't have the right to feel this way. That her situation, her condition, her reality… made these feelings too selfish. Too impossible.
But the more she thought of him—his kindness, his loyalty, his awkward charm—the more the truth crept in.
And slowly, gently… painfully… she reached a realization she could no longer avoid.
It was wholesome. It was beautiful. And it was heartbreaking.
Just then, as if on cue, Jane walked into the ward holding the IV drip stand, ready to administer Kana's daily dose. But the moment she entered, she paused. Kana was sitting on the bed, staring off into space, a dreamy blush dusting her cheeks, as if she were lost in another world.
Jane raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Jane: Kana?
But before Jane could say anything more, Kana spoke—softly, almost like a whisper.
Kana: Hey… big sister?
Jane: Yes? What's wrong, Kana? You seem so out of it.
Kana didn't respond immediately. She took a deep breath, her hand clenching the blanket beneath her.
Kana: I… I think I've gone and done something I shouldn't have.
Jane blinked, confused by the serious tone.
Jane: Huh? What do you mean?
Kana turned her face away slightly, but not before Jane caught the glint of something in her eye. Then, without warning, a single tear slipped down Kana's cheek.
Kana: I… I think I'm in love with him.
Her voice cracked just a little, but it carried all the weight of her heart. And in that moment, the room stood still.