The graduation ceremony was traditional and lengthy. Kaito sat among his classmates in the school auditorium, listening to speeches about future potential and responsibility. Aoi sat three rows ahead, her back straight, attention focused forward.
They hadn't spoken much in the weeks since the dinner. Not because of any disagreement, but because Kaito had made himself increasingly unavailable. Preparation for London, he claimed. A partial truth.
When his name was called to receive his diploma, he walked across the stage with practiced confidence. His father watched from the audience, expression neutral. His mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. From his vantage point on stage, Kaito could see the Mizushimas seated nearby, Aoi's father nodding approvingly.
After the ceremony, families gathered in the courtyard. Photos were taken, congratulations exchanged. Kaito stood with his parents, accepting praise from his father's business associates who had attended. He kept glancing around for Aoi.
He finally spotted her near the cherry trees, surrounded by classmates. She laughed at something someone said, her graduation certificate held carefully in both hands. She looked happy, unburdened. The sight made his chest tighten.
"Kaito." His father's voice pulled his attention back. "The Nakamuras want to congratulate you."
More handshakes, more bowing, more polite conversation. By the time he looked for Aoi again, she was gone.
That evening, his mother hosted a small gathering at their home. Close family friends, business partners, a few of Kaito's classmates. The house was filled with flowers and catered food, everything elegant and restrained. Kaito moved through the rooms, playing his role perfectly, the successful son, the promising heir, the future international student.
He checked his phone repeatedly. No messages from Aoi. He'd invited her, of course, but hadn't followed up. Another deliberate distance.
As the evening progressed, he found himself on the engawa, away from the polite conversation inside. The same spot where he and Aoi had sat so many times. The night air was warm, summer approaching.
"Congratulations."
He turned. Aoi stood in the doorway, wearing a simple blue dress. She looked different somehow, more adult, more certain.
"You came," he said, echoing her words from weeks ago.
"Of course." She joined him at the railing. "I wouldn't miss it."
They stood side by side, looking out at the garden. Lanterns illuminated the paths, casting soft light on carefully tended plants.
"When do you leave?" she asked.
"Tomorrow morning."
She nodded, absorbing this. "So soon."
"My father arranged everything." The explanation felt hollow, an excuse rather than a reason.
"Are you excited?"
"Yes," he said automatically. Then, more honestly, "And nervous."
She smiled slightly. "That's normal, I think."
From inside came the sound of laughter, the clink of glasses. Kaito's separate world, one Aoi observed but never fully entered.
"I have something for you," she said, reaching into her small purse. She pulled out a book, slim and well-worn. "For the flight."
Kaito took it, turning it over in his hands. A collection of Japanese poetry, the cover faded from handling.
"It was my grandfather's," she explained. "The margins have his notes. And some of mine."
The gift was intimate in a way that made Kaito uncomfortable. Personal thoughts, family history, shared insight. Things he wasn't sure he deserved.
"Thank you," he said, not knowing what else to say.
"You don't have to read it," she said, as if sensing his discomfort. "But I wanted you to have something from home."
Home. The word hung between them. Kyoto was home, had always been home. London was an abstraction, a future he hadn't chosen but was expected to embrace.
"Aoi, I..."
"Kaito." His father appeared in the doorway. "The Tanaka family is leaving. Come say goodbye."
Kaito hesitated, caught between obligations.
"Go," Aoi said softly. "It's fine."
He nodded, slipping the book into his pocket. "I'll be right back."
But the Tanakas led to the Yamadas, and the Yamadas to the Suzukis, and by the time Kaito managed to return to the engawa, Aoi was gone. In her place was a small origami crane, perfectly folded, sitting on the railing.
He picked it up carefully, turning it in his fingers. No note, no message. Just the crane, like the one she'd made the day he told her about London. A circle completed.
Kaito placed it in his pocket alongside the book and returned to his guests, the perfect host, the dutiful son. If anyone noticed his smile didn't reach his eyes, they were too polite to mention it.
Later that night, after everyone had left, he stood in his bedroom surrounded by packed suitcases. His flight was early, the car scheduled for 5 AM. He should sleep, but restlessness kept him awake.
He took out his phone and typed a message to Aoi.
"Thank you for the book. And the crane."
He waited, watching the screen. Three dots appeared almost immediately.
"Safe travels, Kaito. Find what you're looking for."
He stared at her response, trying to decipher its meaning. Was it a blessing? A challenge? A goodbye?
He began typing several responses, deleting each one. Finally, he settled on simplicity.
"I'll write to you."
Her reply came quickly.
"I'll be here."
The same words she'd said that day under the cherry blossoms. He still didn't understand what she meant by them, but it was too late to ask now. Too late for many things.
Kaito placed the phone on his nightstand and lay down, fully clothed, on top of his bed. Sleep wouldn't come. Instead, he watched shadows move across his ceiling as cars passed outside, their headlights briefly illuminating his childhood room for the last time.