Morning sunlight spilled through Toshio's window in soft ribbons of gold, warm enough to melt the last traces of winter's chill. A quiet hum drifted into the room from the neighborhood—distant chatter, a bicycle bell, the rustle of the early breeze against the curtains.
Toshio Shinji opened his eyes slowly.
And there—lying beside him—was the girl he had once believed was gone forever.
Her chest rose and fell with a softness that soothed something deep in his heart. Her hair—once cut short and dyed for her life as Mina—now shimmered with its natural silvery glow, like moonlight caught in motion. She wore no disguise, no cold expressions, no armor.
It wasn't Mina.
It was Airi Hoshizora.
The real her.
The girl who used to laugh with him under the sakura tree. The girl he thought death—or fate—had torn from his life.
Toshio's throat tightened. His fingers reached out instinctively, brushing aside a lock of her hair that had fallen across her cheek.
"Airi…" he whispered, breath trembling.
Her eyelids fluttered gently.
Toshio froze—then panicked slightly. Should he pull his hand away? Pretend he hadn't been staring like a lovesick idiot for who knows how long?
But before he could decide—
Her hand rose, warm and soft, and curled around his fingers.
"Good morning… Toshio-kun," she murmured.
That name—Toshio-kun—was something Mina never used. Only Airi had said it. Only the girl he had believed lost to trauma and fear.
"You're awake," he whispered.
Airi smiled, small and sleepy. "Mm… I didn't want to get up. It's warm here."
"But you caught my hand."
"Because someone kept staring at me," she teased, poking his cheek. "Like I'm his whole world."
Toshio flushed. "I—I wasn't staring—"
"Liar," she said, poking him again. "You always stare when you're worried."
Toshio swallowed. "Airi… are you… really back?"
Her teasing faded into a soft, trembling smile.
"Yes," she whispered. "I'm back. I'm Airi again… Toshio."
"Why? When? I thought that—"
"I know." She tightened her fingers around his. "And I'm sorry. Mina was… a cage I forced myself into. A mask to survive. But she was never who I truly was. Every time I looked at you… Airi was still there, trapped but alive."
She took a shaky breath.
"When you saved me," she whispered, "and when you called my name… my real name… something inside me woke up."
She placed his hand against her chest.
"You brought me back."
Toshio bit his lip as his vision blurred with warmth he tried to blink away.
"I thought I'd lost you forever."
"You didn't," she whispered. "You found me again."
A moment of quiet settled around them—soft, tender, precious.
Then—
Airi tilted her head and smiled mischievously.
"Though… I didn't expect to wake up with you staring at me like I'm a rare museum artifact."
"A-Airi!"
"You even tucked my hair behind my ear. Bold move."
"I wasn't— I didn't—"
"What?" she laughed softly. "I didn't say I hated it."
He groaned into his hands. "Please stop…"
She leaned closer, her breath brushing his cheek. "Make me."
Toshio nearly combusted.
But Airi only giggled, softer this time, and nuzzled her forehead against his.
"I'm Airi," she whispered. "And I choose to live as myself again… because you're here."
Toshio cupped her cheek gently. "Then… stay with me."
"I want to."
For a long moment, nothing moved except their breaths.
Then—
Airi sniffed the air and frowned. "Is something burning?"
Toshio stiffened. "Uh…"
"Toshio," she said slowly, "did you try to cook?"
"No—well—yes—but—"
She crossed her arms. "Did you burn toast again?"
"It's a toaster! It burns easily—"
"No. You burn easily." She sighed dramatically. "My poor kitchen…"
"It's my kitchen too!"
"Not when you're trying to murder it."
He got out of bed quickly. "Fine! I'll clean it—"
But Airi was already standing, stretching, her nightshirt soft around her thighs, her hair glowing in the sun.
She smiled gently.
"Let me cook. Otherwise we'll both die before lunch."
"Hey!"
She brushed past him, fingers grazing his arm. "Don't worry. You've protected me enough times. Let me protect you from your cooking."
A Warm Morning Together
The kitchen filled quickly with the comforting sounds of chopping, sizzling, and Airi humming a familiar melody—an old childhood tune Toshio hadn't heard in years.
She tied her hair up with a ribbon, moving with a calm confidence that felt like home.
Toshio sat at the counter, watching her silently.
"You're staring again," she said without turning.
"I can't help it."
"Then pay me with a kiss later."
Toshio choked on his own breath.
She glanced over her shoulder with a playful smile. "Unless you don't want to?"
"I didn't say that."
"Good." She returned to cooking. "Then I'll collect after breakfast."
The food smelled heavenly. Soft eggs. Warm miso soup. Perfectly grilled fish.
Only Airi made it like this.
When she set the plates down, she sat beside him—not across from him—so their shoulders touched.
"It feels like home again," Toshio whispered.
Airi leaned into him. "Because you're here."
They ate slowly, stealing glances, laughing quietly, letting the soft morning ease years of pain.
After breakfast, Airi stood and held her hand out to him.
"Toshio."
"Yeah?"
"Walk with me. To the old shrine."
His breath caught.
"Our promise place? From when we were kids?"
"Yes." Her fingers trembled slightly, but her smile was steady. "I want to make a new promise there."
The Shrine of Forgotten Promises
The air outside was cool. Cherry blossoms drifted along the street, carried gently by the wind.
Hands intertwined, they walked together, past familiar corners and fading memories. Airi held his hand tightly, as if afraid he might vanish.
When they reached the shrine, sunlight filtered through the cherry trees, scattering pink petals across the steps.
Airi stopped.
"Toshio," she whispered, turning to him. "Thank you… for waiting for me."
"I'd wait a lifetime for you."
Her eyes brightened with emotion.
"I came back as Airi because you never gave up on me. Even when I lost myself… you kept calling my name."
She stepped closer, heart racing.
"I'm Airi Hoshizora. I'm me again… and I choose you."
Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling him gently toward her.
"Airi…"
Then she kissed him.
Soft.
Warm.
Full of every promise they were ever too afraid to speak aloud.
A kiss of homecoming.
A kiss of rebirth.
A kiss that said:
I'm here. I won't run again.
When she finally pulled away, breath trembling, she rested her forehead against his.
"From today on… let's write our story together."
Toshio closed his eyes, holding her close.
"Then stay with me, Airi."
"I will," she whispered.
And in that quiet spring morning, under cherry blossoms that danced like blessings—
Airi returned to him for the second time.
This time… for good.