The announcement arrived on a Thursday morning, posted simultaneously across every major beauty industry platform worldwide. Aiko was reviewing notes for her Advanced Technique class when her phone exploded with notifications from classmates, professors, and industry contacts all sharing the same news.
"Did you see this?" Yuki burst into the classroom, waving her phone excitedly. "The International Master Stylist Championship—it's happening next year!"
Professor Martinez, who had been preparing to begin their lesson, paused to address the sudden buzz of excitement among her students. "I assume you've all seen the competition announcement. For those who might not understand the significance, this event happens only every four years and represents the pinnacle of our industry."
Aiko's hands trembled as she read through the official announcement on her phone. The competition would be held in Milan, bringing together the world's most talented stylists under age twenty-five for three days of intensive technical challenges, artistic presentations, and cultural exchange.
"Aiko," Professor Martinez called out, "given your recent competition victories and international training, you'll definitely be receiving an invitation to represent Japan."
The words hit her like a physical blow. She would be competing. And if Javier continued his rapid progress in hairstyling training, he would likely be there too.
After class, Aiko found herself walking aimlessly through campus, her mind spinning with the implications of what she had learned. The decision she had been avoiding for weeks could no longer be postponed. If she was going to face Javier at an international competition in front of the entire beauty industry, she needed to understand what he wanted to tell her first.
That evening, alone in her dorm room while Mari was at study group, Aiko finally worked up the courage to make the call she had been dreading.
"Isabella? It's Aiko."
"Aiko, I was wondering if you'd seen the competition announcement."
"I did. That's why I'm calling." Aiko took a shaky breath. "I need to know what he thinks my mother told him. I can't go into that competition blind, not knowing what message he believes he's carrying."
"The details themselves have to come from Javier. But Aiko, I can arrange a meeting if you're certain that's what you want."
Aiko felt her heart racing. "A meeting?"
"Video call, in-person if you're willing to travel, whatever would be most comfortable for you. But once you hear what he has to say, once you know the specifics of what he experienced... there won't be any going back to not knowing."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that if the details he shares are accurate, if they match memories only you and your mother shared, it will change how you understand everything—her death, his accident, the connection between you."
Aiko closed her eyes, thinking about Hiroshi's request from the previous evening, about the life they had planned together, about the safety of not knowing versus the terror of finding out.
"Isabella, if I agree to meet with him, if I hear what he has to say... what happens then?"
"That depends on what you decide the information means to you. But Aiko, I think you should know—Javier isn't just searching for you to deliver a message anymore. Learning hairstyling has awakened something in him that goes beyond mission or obligation."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean he's falling in love with the craft itself, with the same passion that's driven your career. And I think when he sees you again, when he realizes how much you've both grown... the connection you shared is going to become something much more powerful."
The implication hung between them, touching on fears Aiko had been trying not to acknowledge.
"I need to think about this," she said finally. "But Isabella... if I decide I need to hear what he has to say, can you arrange it without anyone else knowing? At least until I understand what we're dealing with?"
"Of course. But don't take too long to decide. The competition is only eight months away, and if you're both planning to compete, the beauty industry will start connecting your stories long before you're ready."
After ending the call, Aiko sat in the growing darkness of her room, knowing that the choice she made in the next few days would determine not just her romantic future, but her understanding of her own past and her mother's final wishes.
The competition announcement had made hiding impossible. The question now was whether she would face whatever Javier had to tell her on her own terms, or wait for it to explode into her life when she was least prepared.
Deep down, she already knew what her heart was telling her to do. The question was whether she was brave enough to listen.
Three days later, Aiko found herself standing outside a small café in Shibuya, her heart pounding as she approached the location Isabella had arranged for their meeting. She had told Hiroshi she was visiting Mrs. Sato for the afternoon, hating the lie but unable to explain where she was really going.
When she pushed open the café door, she saw him immediately.
Javier sat at a corner table, and Aiko's breath caught in her throat. He was so much bigger than she had realized—six foot four with broad shoulders and the kind of lean muscle that spoke of serious athletic training. Seeing him lying in that hospital bed, she had never fully comprehended his actual size.
"Aiko," he said, standing as she approached. His voice was deeper than she remembered but carried the same gentle warmth.
"Javier," she managed, having to look up to meet his eyes. "You're... I never realized how tall you were."
"Six four." He smiled, studying her face with the same careful attention he had given her hair that day in the park. "How tall are you?"
"Five two. I haven't really grown since..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
"Your hair is incredible," he said, his eyes taking in the healthy shine and professional styling. "You really did become everything I hoped you would after that day."
They settled into chairs across from each other, the weight of three years and everything that had happened settling between them.
"Aiko, I need to tell you about what happened during my coma," Javier said, his expression growing serious. "I spoke with a woman who said she was your mother. She gave me details about you, about your childhood, things I want to confirm."
"What kind of details?"
Javier began sharing the intimate memories—the scar on Aiko's hand, the lullaby she hummed, the pressed flower, the exact words she had spoken the night before leaving for her aunt's house. With each detail, Aiko felt tears starting to flow.
"Those things...," she whispered.
"The scar... how could you know about the scar?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I never told anyone about that. Not even Mrs. Sato."
"I don't know how it happened," Javier said, his voice filled with wonder. "I don't understand the mechanisms behind it. But I spoke with a friend a few weeks back who told me that during the 15th century and in many pockets of time, it was always about who could catch a signal faster than others and then what you do with that signal. There have always been a lot of things that continue to exist whether you see them or not."
He leaned forward, his intensity growing. "There's a lot of rediscoveries waiting to be made, just like molecules and a lot that always existed even in the 15th century when they didn't have the technology to interpret it and learn about the precise mechanics. But sooner rather than later, people always catch the signal, make many significant rediscoveries and realize it was always right there. Just because the technology hasn't caught up to explain the mechanics about how it happened does not refute the fact that it happened."
"When Mrs. Sato taught me to see past what my aunt told me I was... I realized there are patterns everywhere. People who try to make others feel small so they can't catch the important signals." Aiko's voice grew stronger. "And there are people fighting back, helping others become more aware, more competent."
Aiko felt overwhelmed, trying to process what he was saying while her mind reeled from hearing secrets only her mother could have known.
"I have proof of what she told me," he continued. "The details she shared proved I really met your mother, who found me when my body was in a vulnerable state after the crash. She must have been waiting, not able to pass on because she had so much to say to you and your aunt, who is the younger sister of your mother."
Javier laughed, a strong, masculine sound that filled the quiet café. "I don't know how it works, but I heard some intelligent minds have been making rediscoveries and small steps in quantum mechanics. A lot more credible documentation and tangible truths are coming to light."
His eyes found hers again, and Aiko felt the same recognition she had experienced that day in the park, but magnified beyond anything she could have imagined.
"You had caught my eye even when you had really bad hair," he said with gentle humor. "And it's crazy to think that one hour of us together caused so much. It makes me question what a life together can bring about and make appear. There's so much more than meets the eye."
"There's so much more out there," Javier said, his passion evident in every word. "I look forward to finding a lot more while also nudging people to love themselves. And styling hair is one of the first most important steps for me. Basically, there's a lot out there and I want to, in small ripples and grand ripples, help others to become more competent. And I'm happy with you, Aiko."
"Everything you have been able to achieve."
"I learned from that personal experience," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "I got a signal that some are still waiting to catch. It's like waking up and truly recognizing the expanses and that there is truly much more than meets the eye. And what alignments do you have to make for certain realities to suddenly appear and make themselves known? Many realities you didn't initially know were there, but that regardless of whether you figured it out or not, have always been there and will continue to be there."
"But I know what I experienced. Your mother talked to me for what felt like months, sharing memories about you, asking me to find you and your aunt."
Aiko felt tears starting to flow. These weren't just random details—they were her most private childhood memories, things she had never shared with anyone.
"She wanted you to know that she loved you more than anything," Javier continued, his voice gentle but urgent. "That leaving wasn't about not wanting you, but about protecting you from dangers you were too young to understand."
The emotions hit Aiko like a wave. Relief, grief, love, confusion—all crashing over her as she processed that the mother she'd mourned might have found a way to reach her after all.
"I don't know what to do with this information," she said through her tears.
"Neither do I, completely," Javier admitted. "But Aiko, there's something else. She said your aunt—your mother's younger sister—has been carrying guilt about what happened. There are things she needs to hear too."
Aiko looked up at him, seeing the same gentle determination that had motivated him to help her three years ago, now focused on completing what he believed was a sacred mission.
"What are you asking me to do?"
"I'm asking if you feel what I feel right now. If this connection between us, this moment, feels as important to you as it does to me." His eyes were intense but patient. "Because if it does, I think we need to go see your aunt together. I think there are conversations that need to happen."
Aiko felt her heart racing as she looked into his eyes. She could see the fire there, the absolute conviction that had driven his recovery and his search. But she could also see the boy who had cared for her hair with such tenderness, who had seen worth in her when she couldn't see it herself.
"Javier," she said quietly, "I need you to know something first. I'm... I'm with someone. I have a boyfriend who's been wonderful to me, who I care about deeply."
His expression flickered with something—disappointment, maybe, but also understanding. "I know about Hiroshi. Isabella told me you'd built a life, found love. I'm not here to destroy what makes you happy."
"Then what are you here for?"
"To deliver your mother's message. To make sure you know how much you were loved. And to find out if what I feel when I look at you is something you feel too."
The honesty in his voice was overwhelming. Aiko found herself looking into eyes that seemed to see straight through to her soul.
"I don't know what I feel," she admitted. "Everything is so complicated right now."
"It doesn't have to be complicated," Javier said softly. "Some things are simple, even when they seem impossible. Some connections exist whether we understand them or not."
He stood up from his chair and moved closer to hers, his presence both overwhelming and comforting.
"Aiko, if you're feeling what I'm feeling right now, if this moment matters to you the way it matters to me... would you half close your eyes so I can kiss you?"
The request hung between them, simple but life-changing. Aiko looked up at him, seeing the same gentle intensity that had saved her three years ago, now focused entirely on her.
Her heart was screaming yes while her mind reminded her of Hiroshi, of the life they'd planned, of the promises she'd made. But sitting here with Javier, hearing her mother's words through him, feeling the magnetic pull that had driven her across the world to find him...
"After," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "After we go see my aunt. After we deliver whatever message my mother wanted her to hear. Then we can figure out what this is between us."
Javier nodded, understanding and respecting her need to complete the mission before exploring their connection.
"Then let's go," he said, offering his hand. "Let's finish what your mother started."
As Aiko took his hand and stood beside him, she felt the weight of the most important decision of her life settling over her. She was about to walk away from the safety of her current life and into something unknown, guided only by the conviction that some truths were too important to ignore.
The girl who had once been afraid to want anything was finally ready to reach for everything she'd ever dreamed of.