She returns on a Wednesday.
No warning. No announcement. Just… appears in the doorway of our classroom like she never left.
Everyone freezes.
And then Sayoko lets out this squeal that breaks the silence in half, running over to Kane like she's seen a ghost. Haru stumbles up from his chair and blurts out something like, "You better not make this a habit," even though his voice cracks at the end.
But Kane just laughs — soft, like wind chimes.
"I missed this chaos," she says.
Her uniform hangs a little looser now. Her eyes have darker circles underneath. But her smile... it's the same.
And somehow that makes it all the harder to look at her.
She sits beside me — like always — dropping her bag with a thump.
"Hey," she whispers.
"Hey," I whisper back.
And for a while, we just sit there, side by side, while Mr. Tanaka drones on about something I won't remember. My hand inches toward hers under the desk. She doesn't take it this time. But she doesn't pull away either.
At lunch, we skip the cafeteria.
Kane leads me to the rooftop — quiet, breezy, familiar.
She doesn't say anything for a long time. Just leans against the railing, staring at the distant city skyline like it might offer her some kind of answer.
"I'm glad you came back," I say finally.
She hums. "I didn't want to waste the time I have."
Something cold slips down my spine.
I look at her. Really look.
"Kane…"
She doesn't turn to me. Her hair blows across her face. Her fingers grip the railing too tightly.
"They say there's still a chance," she says, like she's telling me a bedtime story. "There's a surgery. Complicated. Risky. Stupid, probably."
I swallow hard. "Are you going to take it?"
She smiles — but it doesn't reach her eyes.
"I haven't decided yet."
I want to say a thousand things. Beg her to do it. Tell her she can fight, that she can make it, that she's strong enough. But something in her voice — in the way her shoulders curl inward — stops me.
Instead, I ask, "Does anyone else know?"
She finally turns toward me. Her eyes are soft, serious.
"I don't want anyone to know yet. Not Sayoko, not Haru. Not anyone."
I nod slowly. "Okay. I won't tell."
"Promise?"
I reach out, linking my pinkie with hers like always. "Promise."
She looks at our hands, her expression unreadable. Then she lets out a breath — shaky and quiet.
"I'm scared, Yuki."
That breaks me more than anything else.
I step closer. I don't hug her. I just let my hand rest against hers, firm and steady.
"You're allowed to be," I whisper. "But you're not alone."
Kane leans her forehead against mine, just for a second. The city disappears. The rooftop vanishes. It's just her — warm and alive and trembling in my hands.
If I could, I'd stop the world for her right now.
But all I can do is stay. Hold on. Keep the promise.
Even if it's breaking me too.