The sky looked too normal.
That was the first thing Aoki Kokoro noticed as he stepped out of the hospital. The sunlight spilled across the pavement, warm and indifferent, as if nothing in the world had changed.
But something had.
He glanced beside him.
Emi Takahashi walked quietly, her steps slow but steady. The IV line was gone now, replaced with a small bandage wrapped neatly around her wrist. Her hair swayed gently in the breeze, catching the light in a way that made her look… almost unreal.
Like she didn't belong to this world.
"It's bright," she murmured, raising her hand slightly to shield her eyes.
"Yeah," Aoki replied.
A short answer.
He didn't know what else to say.
They walked side by side, but there was a strange distance between them—not physical, but something deeper. Something neither of them knew how to cross.
"…You didn't have to wait," Emi said suddenly.
Aoki looked at her.
"I know."
"Then why did you?"
He hesitated.
Because you're dying.
Because I couldn't just leave you there.
Because I don't understand this feeling.
But none of those words came out.
"I just felt like it," he said instead.
Emi smiled faintly.
"You keep saying that."
"Maybe I don't have a better reason."
"…Or maybe you do," she said softly.
Aoki didn't reply.
They reached the road outside the hospital. Cars passed by, people walked hurriedly, conversations overlapped—life continued, loud and unaware.
Emi stopped walking.
Aoki turned.
"What's wrong?"
She looked ahead, her eyes distant.
"…Aoki," she said quietly.
It was the first time she had said his name like that.
Without hesitation.
Without distance.
Just… naturally.
"Hmm?"
"…Do you think it's unfair?"
He frowned slightly.
"What is?"
"Life."
The word lingered.
Aoki didn't answer immediately.
Emi continued.
"Some people get years… decades… a whole lifetime." She smiled faintly. "And some people…" She paused. "…get a countdown."
Aoki's chest tightened.
"…Yeah," he said finally. "It is."
Emi nodded.
"I thought so."
She didn't sound angry.
Or bitter.
Just… calm.
And that somehow made it worse.
"But," she added lightly, "I guess there's nothing we can do about it."
"That doesn't mean you have to accept it," Aoki said.
Emi looked at him, surprised.
"And do what?" she asked gently. "Fight it?"
Aoki opened his mouth—
Then closed it.
He had no answer.
Emi let out a small laugh.
"See?" she said. "It's easier to just… smile."
Aoki clenched his fists slightly.
He hated that answer.
He hated how easily she said it.
As if her pain didn't matter.
As if her life didn't matter.
"…Then don't smile," he said suddenly.
Emi blinked.
"Eh?"
"You don't have to pretend," Aoki continued. "Not in front of me."
Silence.
Emi stared at him.
"…You're saying that now," she said softly. "But people don't like seeing sadness."
"I don't care."
"That's because you're not normal," she said with a small smile.
"Maybe."
Another pause.
Then—
"…Aoki," she said again.
"What?"
"Why are you doing this?"
He met her gaze.
There was no accusation in her eyes.
Just confusion.
"…I don't know," he admitted.
That was the truth.
"I just…" he hesitated, "…don't want you to be alone."
Emi's eyes widened slightly.
For a moment—
She looked like she was about to cry again.
But she didn't.
Instead, she smiled.
A fragile, trembling smile.
"…You're kind," she whispered.
"I'm not."
"You are."
They stood there, facing each other in the middle of an ordinary street.
Surrounded by ordinary people.
Living an ordinary day.
And yet—
Nothing about this moment was ordinary.
"…So," Emi said suddenly, clapping her hands softly, "where are we going?"
Aoki blinked.
"You agreed without asking."
"Is that bad?"
"…No."
He thought for a moment.
Then—
"…Let's go to the shopping street."
"The one near the station?"
"Yeah."
Emi tilted her head.
"…Why there?"
"There's food."
She laughed.
"That's a good reason."
And just like that—
They started walking again.
This time, the distance between them felt slightly smaller.
—
The shopping street was lively.
Colorful signs, the smell of fried food, the chatter of people—it was the complete opposite of the hospital they had just left.
Emi's eyes sparkled faintly as she looked around.
"It's been a while," she said.
"Since you came here?"
She nodded.
"I usually go straight home after school."
Aoki wasn't surprised.
"…Let's eat something," he said.
"Okay."
They stopped at a small stall.
Takoyaki.
Emi stared at it like a child seeing something precious.
"…Can I?"
"Yeah."
She hesitated for a second.
Then nodded.
They bought a small portion and sat on a nearby bench.
Emi carefully picked one up.
"It's hot," Aoki warned.
"I know."
She blew on it gently before taking a small bite.
For a moment—
She froze.
Then—
"…It's good," she said, her eyes lighting up.
Aoki felt something loosen in his chest.
It was such a simple reaction.
But it felt… important.
They ate quietly after that.
No heavy conversations.
No painful truths.
Just—
A normal moment.
"…Aoki," Emi said between bites.
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"If I didn't tell you my condition…" she paused, "…would you have talked to me at school?"
Aoki froze.
The question caught him off guard.
"…I don't know," he admitted.
Emi smiled.
"That's honest."
"What about you?" he asked.
"What about me?"
"Would you have talked to me?"
She thought for a moment.
Then shook her head.
"No."
"…Why?"
"Because I didn't want to get close to anyone."
Her voice was soft.
"If I get close… it hurts more when I leave."
Aoki didn't know what to say.
"…But," she added, looking at him, "now it's already too late."
"Too late?"
"I've already talked to you."
She smiled.
"And you already know."
Aoki looked at her.
Really looked at her.
"…Then don't leave," he said.
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Emi blinked.
Then laughed softly.
"That's not something I can control."
Aoki bit his lip.
"…Right."
Silence fell again.
But it wasn't uncomfortable.
Just… real.
The sun began to set, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink.
Emi looked up.
"…It's pretty," she whispered.
Aoki followed her gaze.
"Yeah."
They sat there for a while, watching the sky change.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them needed to.
Because for that moment—
Everything felt enough.
And yet—
Deep down—
They both knew.
This wasn't something that would last forever.
Not even close.
Still—
Aoki made a quiet decision.
One he didn't say out loud.
One he didn't fully understand.
But one that would shape everything that came next.
If her time was limited—
Then he would fill it.
With laughter.
With memories.
With moments like this.
No matter how small.
No matter how meaningless they seemed.
Because to her—
They weren't meaningless.
They were everything.
"…Aoki," Emi said softly.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you… for today."
He shook his head.
"It's nothing."
"It's not," she said.
He didn't argue.
Because maybe—
She was right.
As the sun dipped below the horizon—
Their shadows stretched longer across the ground.
Two figures.
Walking side by side.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Toward a future—
That was already running out of time.