Yui's birthday party was over.
One by one, her friends left — waving, smiling, holding little bags in their hands.
I hugged Yui tightly one last time.
My arms wrapped around her, and hers around me.
We didn't say much.
We didn't have to.
Because the promise we made… was still glowing inside our hearts.
I walked toward the car, holding Shiba against my chest.
Mama and Papa were waiting by the door.
I turned around and waved.
So did Shiba, with my hand moving his little paw.
Yui waved back — her bunny plush in one arm, her other hand high in the air.
Like she was trying to hold on to our promise all the way across the street.
We got into the car.
The door clicked shut.
And we drove off into the winter night.
I was still smiling.
Still imagining my birthday in April — when I'd turn five.
Yui would come.
We'd sing.
I'd play the piano.
Tama-chan would dance.
And maybe… Mama would bake that cupcake like before for me and yui.
I hummed softly to myself in the back seat.
Happy notes.
Soft notes.
Notes only a heart like mine could make.
Outside the window, the city passed by in quiet colors.
Lights twinkled from windows.
Shops were closing.
The sky was dark and deep.
And then—
Shhiiiisssshhhh—
A sound like a dragon breathing stars.
I looked up.
A firework burst into the sky —
Bright, loud, and beautiful.
"Mama! Papa! Hanabi!!" I pointed excitedly.
More came after —
BOOM
CRACKLE
POP
Colors exploded across the night like flowers made of light.
The dark canvas of Tokyo's sky became a painting.
Reds.
Blues.
Gold like the sun in the morning.
And I just stared.
Even if they only lasted a few seconds…
Even if they faded fast…
They were still wonderful.
And without thinking — without even meaning to —
I started to sing.
A quiet song.
Just for me.
Just for the firework sky.
Just for the feeling in my heart.
Mama and Papa didn't say much.
They had been silent since we left Yui's house.
I didn't really notice.
Not yet.
Because in that moment —
Even though something was changing…
…I was still in a dream.
A soft dream, where Yui was still here.
Where our bracelets still touched.
Where our pinky promise still echoed.
Where the future still felt like music waiting to be played.
And above me…
Fireworks bloomed again.
Just like last year.
Just like now.
Just like the feeling I had after seeing Yui.
The morning after New Year's Eve…
I woke up feeling so good.
I don't know why —
but my body felt light, like I was floating a little.
Maybe it was because I played last night with Yui.
Maybe because the cold air whispered softly last night and didn't wake me.
Or maybe…
Because while I slept…
I dreamed.
Yui and I, side by side, singing and playing the piano together.
Her voice.
My hands.
Our sound.
Still dancing in my heart, even as the sunlight peeked through the curtain.
I got up and stretched, then walked to the dining room.
Mama and Papa were already there.
But something was different.
Their eyes looked tired.
Swollen, just a little.
There were soft shadows under them — like they had stayed up long after I fell asleep.
But when they saw me…
They smiled.
Not just any smile.
The kind that melts the coldest morning.
Warmer than our room heater.
Warmer than my scarf.
I smiled back at them, big and full.
"Mama… Hideki wants to see Tama-chan in the garden."
Mama nodded gently and said,
"Don't forget your jacket, sweetheart."
"I won't!" I called back, already halfway to the door.
Outside, the air was crisp and fresh — the kind that nibbled your nose and made your cheeks pink.
I stepped onto the path and walked toward the little garden where Tama-chan always stayed.
There she was.
Tama-chan — curled up inside her favorite cardboard box.
It was spinning slowly in the wind, like a soft cradle.
Maybe that's why she liked it so much — warm and a little wobbly.
I crouched down and gently patted her fur.
"Tama-chaaannn…" I whispered, careful not to startle her.
She blinked at me, sleepy but listening.
"Yesterday… Hideki went to Yui's birthday party."
Tama blinked again.
"She had so many friends around her.
They all brought colorful presents.
Big ones.
Small ones.
Some with ribbons. Some with shiny wrapping."
I paused for a second, my fingers brushing her ear.
"Hideki didn't bring a box…
No bright colors.
Just a video."
My voice got small.
"I was scared, Tama-chan.
Scared that maybe… maybe I wasn't really Yui's best friend.
Because my gift wasn't like the others."
Tama licked her paw lazily.
"But then…"
I smiled — my cheeks suddenly warm.
"Yui said…
She loved my gift the most."
I giggled, covering my mouth.
"She hugged me.
So tight.
And she said… 'Hontōni suki desu.'
She really loved it."
I leaned my head a little against the side of the box.
"Mama said it too.
That my gift was special…
Because Yui is special to Hideki.
And Hideki is special to Yui."
Tama-chan closed her eyes again, curling into a cozy ball.
I smiled even wider.
"Hideki's really happy, Tama-chan…"
And for a moment —
in that cold garden, under the soft winter sun —
I felt like my heart had a song that kept playing even after the music stopped.
A quiet song.
But full of love.
The days began to change.
The snow outside slowly melted into soft puddles.
The air still held the cold — but it wasn't sharp anymore.
It felt like the world was stretching… yawning… waking up from its winter sleep.
At home, everything stayed the same.
Mama still did her chores, humming quietly as she worked.
Papa still left early for the office, his coat buttoned tight and his briefcase in hand.
And me?
I helped Mama — like I always do.
I made my bed the way she showed me.
I folded my pajamas.
I picked up Shiba from the floor and placed him gently on the bed, facing the window like he was watching the world.
Mama would smile and say,
"Good job, sweetheart,"
and pat my head — soft and warm.
After that, I went straight to the piano.
It was like a magnet pulling me closer.
My little bench.
My little keys.
I climbed up and sat, letting my legs dangle just above the floor.
Then I placed my fingers on the keys —
and played.
Cheerful.
Light.
Like the birds I heard sometimes outside the window.
And while I played…
I imagined her.
Yui.
Her voice singing along with my notes.
Her bunny plush in one hand.
Her eyes closed — swaying to the music.
Sometimes, I even giggled while I played, because in my mind…
she'd sing a little too fast and I'd have to catch up.
Or she'd make a funny voice on purpose and we'd laugh and laugh.
That picture stayed in my heart like a painting.
Like the video I gave her —
But this time, alive inside me.
I couldn't wait.
My birthday was coming.
April was getting closer.
And when it came…
Yui and I would sing together.
We promised.
And promises don't break.
Right?