It was Mio's idea.
"If we're going to suffer," she said, arms crossed, voice steady, "we might as well do it with intention."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "That's the most you thing you've ever said."
Yuna smiled, hesitant but warm. "What kind of day?"
Mio grinned. "A full one. No phones. No talking about August. No lying either."
That last rule landed heavier than the rest.
They started early.
Breakfast at the corner bakery, the one that always burned the bottoms of the croissants. Ren complained. Mio stole his. Yuna fed the crumbs to birds like she'd done it a hundred times before.
Then the arcade.
Ren was terrible at rhythm games. Mio was unfairly good. Yuna laughed so hard she had to sit down.
"You're banned," Ren told Mio. "This is bullying."
"Skill issue," Mio replied sweetly.
In the afternoon, they went to the hill overlooking the city.
They lay in the grass, clouds drifting slowly above them.
Mio broke the silence.
"I was jealous," she said.
Ren stiffened. Yuna turned her head.
"Not just of you," Mio continued, looking at the sky. "But of how easy it looked. The way you two fit without forcing it."
Yuna swallowed. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know," Mio said. "That's what made it worse."
Ren exhaled slowly. "I didn't know how to choose without losing someone."
"You didn't have to," Mio said. "Life already did it for us."
For once, no one argued.
As the sun dipped low, they stopped at the river again.
The same place. Different feeling.
Ren pulled something from his pocket—a thin string bracelet, unevenly knotted.
"I made this," he said, embarrassed. "It's bad. I know."
Yuna laughed softly. "It's perfect."
He tied it around her wrist. His fingers lingered a second too long.
"For when you forget us," he said.
She shook her head. "I won't."
Mio stepped forward and hugged Yuna tightly.
"Wherever you go," she whispered, "live loudly enough for all of us."
Yuna broke then, tears soaking Mio's shoulder.
That night, Yuna wrote in her journal:
If this is goodbye, then let it be gentle.
Ren circled August 28 one last time—then crossed it out.
Mio stood at her window, watching lights flicker across the city, finally allowing herself to miss something that wasn't gone yet.