The late afternoon sun draped the university courtyard in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the cobblestone paths. Students ambled about, arms full of books, laughter trailing in the breeze. Haruto stepped out of the astronomy lab, rubbing the bridge of his nose, mentally tracing star charts that now danced like a blur in his mind. Aiko was finishing her art critique class across campus, so he decided to wait for her near the main fountain, where the two often met.
He found a quiet spot beneath a ginkgo tree, its leaves just beginning to blush with hints of gold. The rhythm of life at university had settled into something steady—busy, demanding, but comfortable. Haruto leaned against the cool stone bench and let himself exhale fully, eyes half-closed, the faint splashing of the fountain lulling him into a rare moment of rest.
"Haruto?"
The voice cut gently through the afternoon hush, and for a moment, he thought his memory was playing tricks on him. It had been years since he'd heard that voice—clear, familiar, and full of old warmth. He turned, heart giving a quiet stutter.
Standing just a few paces away was Riku—his childhood friend.
He looked a little taller, his once unruly hair now neatly styled, but there was no mistaking that grin, tilted and easy like it had never left.
Haruto blinked, stunned into stillness. "Riku…?"
"Didn't think I'd find you here so soon," Riku said with a chuckle, slinging his bag off his shoulder and stepping forward. "Still have the same spaced-out look after class, I see."
Haruto rose slowly to his feet, the weight of time suddenly crashing into him. "What—what are you doing here? I thought you were studying abroad?"
"I was. Finished my program in Melbourne last year. Got into Todai for grad school. Just transferred a week ago." Riku shrugged like it was the most casual news in the world. "I figured I'd run into you eventually… but not this soon."
Haruto shook his head, still caught between disbelief and joy. "It's really good to see you," he said at last, and the two clasped hands, briefly pulling into a half-hug that was both awkward and deeply familiar.
They sat on the bench together, the gap of years slowly shrinking between them as they began to talk. Riku spoke of his time abroad—the shock of living alone, the salty breeze off the Australian coast, the loneliness and the friendships he'd forged in foreign lands. Haruto, in turn, spoke of the transition from their quiet hometown to the pulse of Tokyo life, about university stress, about dreams clutched tightly and slowly unfolding.
"So," Riku said, after a beat of silence, "how's Aiko?"
Haruto's lips curved into a smile, soft and full of meaning. "She's good. She's amazing, actually. Studying art here. We moved together."
Riku raised an eyebrow. "Together, together?"
Haruto laughed. "Yeah. Since the end of high school."
"Well," Riku said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder, "guess I shouldn't be surprised. Even back then, you couldn't stop staring at her when she sketched under the sakura trees."
Haruto flushed a little but didn't deny it. "We've grown a lot… but she's still the one person who gets me."
Just then, as if conjured by the sound of her name, Aiko's voice floated in from behind them. "Haruto, sorry I'm late—"
She paused mid-step, sketchbook in hand, eyes widening at the stranger beside him.
"Riku?"
Riku stood and turned, that same boyish grin widening. "Aiko. Wow. You look… exactly the same. Maybe a little more artsy."
Aiko blinked, then broke into laughter. "I could say the same. Just taller and less of a troublemaker, I hope."
"Moderately less," Riku replied with a wink.
The three of them sat beneath the tree as the golden hour deepened, and the memories flowed more freely than any of them expected. Old school festivals, whispered secrets during lunch breaks, silly childhood dares—echoes of a time that now felt like a different era.
At some point, a comfortable hush fell between them. The fountain gurgled nearby, and laughter from other students drifted on the wind.
"I didn't realize how much I missed this," Riku said quietly. "Not just the city. But you two. Us."
Haruto nodded. "It's strange, isn't it? How people drift apart… but when they come back, it's like no time has passed."
Aiko smiled, her eyes reflective. "Some bonds don't fade. They just wait."
They walked Riku to the dormitory gates later, the three of them bathed in lamplight and a subtle sense of reunion that warmed the night air. Before parting, Riku turned and looked at them both.
"You know," he said, his tone sincere, "whatever happens next… I'm glad we found each other again."
Haruto and Aiko nodded, their hands intertwined as naturally as breathing.
As Riku disappeared into the building, Haruto stood for a moment longer, staring at the quiet doors. He felt something shift inside—something small but significant.
It wasn't just about memories returning. It was about the way life constantly looped back, bringing old faces to new chapters, and reminding them that even in a sprawling city like Tokyo, the past had a way of finding its way home.