The wind outside Asahigaoka was quiet that night.
No rain. No snow. Just a dry, cold breeze brushing against Rin Uzuhiko's apartment
windows.
He sat on his futon, back against the wall, a folded blanket over his lap—but it didn't keep
the shiver out of his hands.
It had been a week since the rooftop. Since the snow. Since Hikari Minamoto sat beside him
and looked at the city like it could forgive her.
Since the night he didn't fall.
Now, the days blurred again.
The homeroom teachers barely looked at him. Classmates either whispered or ignored him
entirely. Kazuki had tried to get him to eat. Walk. Move. Live.
And Rin tried. He really did.
But every corner of Kanemachi City felt hollow without her.
He wandered back home through the streets of Minamisaka, past the Tsukiyama Book
Center, past the vending machines where they used to stop for warm drinks, past the train
platform where she once stumbled sleepily into him on a summer afternoon.
He opened the door to his apartment and stood still for a moment.
And that's when he saw it.
On his desk.
Wrapped in soft cloth. Tied with a red ribbon.
Shizuku's diary.
Kazuki had left it there earlier that day. No note. No explanation. Just the ribbon, and the
lingering scent of lavender and old paper.
Rin stared at it for a long time.
He didn't know what scared him more—the idea of reading it, or the idea of never reading it
at all.
He reached for it.
His hands trembled when he lifted it from the desk. The fabric was smooth. The ribbon
loose.
A thousand memories pressed against his ribs.
He sat down.
And waited.
He didn't untie the ribbon.
Not yet.
But as he moved to place the diary back on the desk…
It slipped.
The diary tumbled softly to the tatami.
And when it landed, the ribbon unraveled—and the final page fluttered open, face-up.
Rin stared.
Her handwriting stared back.
Not the first page.
The last.
And before he could stop himself, his eyes read the words:
Shizuku's Final Diary Entry
(Dated: [Left Blank] – Kanzaki Hospital, Room 308)
Dear Me (and maybe Rin, if he finds this someday),
Today the nurses let me stand by the window for a few minutes. The snow hasn't fallen yet, but
the air smells like winter. It's my favorite kind of cold—the one that makes your nose sting but
your heart feel warm.
I'm writing this because… I don't know how much longer I'll have the strength to say it all out
loud.
And if you're reading this, Rin, I want you to remember something very, very clearly:
I didn't love you because I wanted to be saved.
I loved you because you made me forget that I was sick.
You treated me like I had a tomorrow, even when my body told me otherwise.
You gave me something that even doctors couldn't.
You made me feel alive.
Do you remember the mirror with the cherry blossom inside?
I keep it next to my bed.
I talk to it like it's you when you're not here.
(Sorry, it doesn't argue back enough.)
Sometimes I wonder if my life would've been longer if I hadn't fallen in love.
But then I realize—it wouldn't have been life at all.
So, thank you.
Thank you for every second. Every joke. Every bentō. Every moment.
If I don't get to say goodbye…
Then let this be it:
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
But please—if I go, promise me something.
Fall in love again someday.
With someone who smiles when you're quiet.
With someone who stays when you're impossible.
With someone who makes your heart beat just as loud as I did.
Live the life we dreamed of.
Even if it's without me.
Until our hearts fall together again,
—Shizuku
Rin's vision blurred.
Tears spilled silently onto the page, warping the final lines of ink.
He picked up the diary slowly. Pressed it to his chest.
Not like paper.
Like a heartbeat.
He didn't sob.
Didn't wail.
He just… breathed.
In.
Out.
Again.
Alive.
Later that night, before he turned out the lights, Rin placed two things side by side on his
desk:
The mirror with the pressed cherry blossom.
And the diary, now closed, its ribbon gently retied.
One was a memory.
The other… a reason to keep going.
He sat in the dark for a long time, staring at both.
Then finally, he whispered:
"I didn't save you… but you saved me."
And for the first time in a long time,
he slept through the night.