Hiro swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly.
He was back in that night — pounding on the door, begging to be let out, until he was too tired to move and began to cry. When he finally broke the lock, the silence in the hallway was his only answer. His father was gone.
And he never came back.
Hiro shook his head, trying to push the memories away, before looking back at Fuuka.
"My father always blamed me for my mother's death," he said, his voice hoarse. "He only gave me what I needed to survive. Until one day..."
His fists clenched, his jaw tightening.
"...he abandoned me. I was only ten."
Fuuka brought a hand to her chest, her eyes glistening. The wind felt colder now, and his words kept echoing inside her.
Hiro took another deep breath, trying to hold back the anger threatening to rise.
"I want to know more about my mother, Fuuka. But there's almost nothing about her. It's like someone erased everything..." — he looked up at the sky, his gaze hardening.
"I don't know why, but I feel like they're hiding something from me."
The gentle breeze from the rooftop brushed through Fuuka's hair as silence stretched between them. Hiro remained there, eyes lowered, struggling to keep calm — the weight of his memories still pulsing in his chest.
Fuuka watched him, feeling her heart tighten. No words felt right. All she could do was lower her head and close her eyes, unable to express what she felt.
"I'm sorry... I... don't know what to say."
Her voice came out weak, almost like a whisper carried away by the wind.
Hiro looked up, surprised. For a moment, he thought he had said something wrong, but when he saw her face — that sad, empathetic look — he understood it was something else.
A faint, tired smile formed on his lips. He reached out and gently placed his hand on Fuuka's shoulder.
"Hey, come on, Fuuka. I already told you there's no need to apologize."
She lifted her face, her eyes watery.
"But, Hiro... everything you must've been through... living alone all this time... You're eighteen now... so it's been eight years since your father abandoned you."
He nodded, his gaze calm, but heavy with pain.
"I know... That's why—"
"I just don't get it!" Fuuka cut him off, her voice trembling, her hands starting to shake. "Suffering alone for so long over something you didn't even do..."
Hiro held her shoulders and gave her a light shake — not harsh, but just enough to bring her back.
Her eyes widened, locking onto his.
"I know my life hasn't been easy," he said, his tone firm yet gentle. "I almost never had anyone who made me feel like... I was home. But..."
He paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her face. Then, slowly, he placed a hand on Fuuka's head, his fingers sinking into her soft hair as he gently patted it.
"The promise we made..." — he smiled, and his eyes glimmered under the sunlight. "That's what made me realize I can feel at home. I won't forget it."
Hiro kept his gaze down for a moment, the shadows of his memories crossing his face — then a faint smile appeared.
"Before I moved into the dorm..." — he said, his voice calm but filled with meaning — "I never felt safe. But when I promised I'd try to become a better person..."
His eyes turned toward the horizon, where the sunset glowed.
"That's when I realized I could just be myself."
Fuuka looked at him, surprised. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
"Hiro..." she whispered, barely audible.
He turned to her with a gentle, calm look — and a completely open smile.
"I see you as... the little sister I never had, Fuuka. You've been by my side since the beginning."
Her chest warmed. His words echoed deep inside her, breaking the silence within. Her vision blurred as tears welled up.
She remembered when she first met him — that distant gaze, that reserved air, like he was trapped in a place no one could reach. But now, the boy standing before her smiled with a light that hadn't been there before.
Their promise was no longer just words. It was alive.
Hiro lowered his head slightly, a calm, almost reverent gesture.
"Thank you, Fuuka. For trusting me."
Fuuka bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears, but a smile still escaped. Warm tears rolled down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him tightly.
Hiro was taken aback for a second — his body stiffened, but he soon relaxed, returning the embrace.
"You don't need to thank me..." she whispered, resting her head against his chest. "I always knew you were a good person."
He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the moment, and tightened his arms around her slightly.
"Even so... thank you," he murmured with a barely-there smile. "Without you, I never would've realized... I didn't have to be that person anymore."
Fuuka nodded slowly, her face still buried against him.
"You're welcome. And... thank you too, for trusting me."
Hiro chuckled softly, the sound blending with the wind.
"Anytime."
Time seemed to stop. The sun painted the world around them in warm, tranquil light. Fuuka's hair swayed in the breeze, brushing against Hiro's chin, while the distant sounds of the city faded into silence.
In that moment, neither of them needed to say anything more.
The silence — and the embrace — said it all.
TO BE CONTINUED...