Epilogue

March 30th, 2018

Haruka still has exactly six minutes of precious snooze time left on his morning alarm when Asuka bursts into his room. He automatically throws his pillow over his head to block out her frantic shouting, wishing his cousin had a snooze button as well.

"Haruka, wake up," She whisper-shouts, jostling him awake. "You're going to want to see this."

Haruka's eyes feel like they're glued together, and he uses the last of his early-morning strength to push himself up into a sitting position. His forehead hits the top bunk, and he rubs the sore spot grumpily. "Ow. What is so important it has to be dealt with at," he checks the clock by his bedside, "7:02 am?"

"The mail just came," Asuka reveals a large manila envelope, reading the label. "To one Haruka Nanase, from the University of Tokyo School of Design admission offices."

Suddenly, Haruka is wide awake.

"Gimme that," He grasps for the package, his fingers curling through air as his pesky cousin jumps back.

"Nope! Not until you come out for breakfast. Mom made bagels, and they're getting cold. We want to watch you open it together!"

Before Haruka can respond, she races out of the room, leaving Haruka squinting at the overhead light she left on. Sighing, he flops back into bed and hides his face in the pillow. Sleeping had become a favorite pastime of his. Ever since...

No.

Not now, Haruka, he tells himself. Just... make it through today.

His alarm rings again, and he groans. Sliding out of bed, he slumps into the kitchen, running a hand through his disheveled bedhead. When he passes the dining room table, his aunt and cousin look up expectantly at him, the package in the center of the table, next to a bottle of soy sauce.

Haruka makes a beeline for the package, but his aunt pulls it away before he can grab it - again.

"No. Sit, eat. I want to make sure you get a full breakfast this morning. You've been slacking on that lately," Miss Amakata says.

What's the point of eating, anyway? Haruka thinks. Food means calories, and calories give energy that I don't want.

Despite his intrusive thoughts, he plops into his chair and starts shoveling rice into a bowl. His cousin places two bagels on his plate, one with cream cheese, the other with raspberry jam.

"Where are Oji-san and Suzuka?" Haruka asks, mouth full.

"Robert's already gone off to take Suzuka to primary school and work," Miss Amakata tells him. "But he's expecting a call from us any minute now," Her knowing smile turns towards the package Haruka's been eyeing all morning. "Go on. I know you're dying to open it."

Haruka picks up the manilla envelope. With it in his hands, it feels heavier than he expected. Almost like his entire future is contained in this package; in a way, it is. But heavy is good, he decides.

Carefully, drawing out the moment, he apprehensively pulls open the manilla envelope and grabs the first thing he sees inside, which is a brochure for the Tokyo School of Design. Happy-looking Japanese students are sitting in an art classroom, drawing and making sculptures. He sets it aside and searches for what he's really looking for: the admission status letter.

Unfolding it, Haruka realizes it's too late for anything to change. He wants to fold it back up, but the words have already caught his eye.

Dear Nanase-san,

I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions of the University of Tokyo School of Design has admitted you into the Class of 2022 under the Regular Decision program. Please accept me personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements.

In recent years, over thirty thousand bright young minds have applied to the Tokyo School of Design. Faced with many more talented artists than we have room to admit, the Admissions Committee has taken great care to choose individuals who present extraordinary academic, extracurricular, and personal strengths. After reading your commentary for your art portfolio, we have clear reason to believe you will make important contributions in your college years and beyond.

Enclosed is information for your financial package for the Outstanding Artist scholarship. As one of our finalists, we are offering you an all-expenses-paid tuition to our Industrial Design program--

Haruka's read enough.

Silently, his head raises to meet the eye of his family. They're practically buzzing with potential energy, waiting for his stoic facial expression to break.

"Well?" Asuka prompts.

He flips the paper around.

"I got in," He announces breathlessly. "And I'm a finalist for the scholarship."

The whoops and cheers from his cousin and aunt threaten to break down the already-crumbling apartment walls as they fly out of their seats to hug him from both sides. Haruka is swept out of his chair from their embrace. Their cries of joy and laughter shakes him into reality, and he can't suppress his smile any longer.

Somewhere out there, he knows Makoto is looking down on him. That same intoxicating smile on his face, he'd be saying I told you that you could do it.

So maybe Makoto was right. He can do it.

Finally, after living a life of wrong turns in impossible mazes, it felt like he was taking a step forward in the right direction.

Haruka automatically finds the star-shaped pendant around his neck, the feel of cool metal bringing him comfort. Whenever he thinks of Makoto, he's reminded of the stars. Someday, he may reach them. Maybe that starts today.

- - - -

June 9th, 2022

Haruka stares at his reflection in the full-length mirror of his apartment, adjusting his silver valedictorian sash ever so slightly on his shoulders. There are two sets of cords on his shoulder as well; one honoring the full marks he got every semester, the other honoring his taking of advanced classes.

"Does this hat make me look stupid?" Haruka asks no-one self consciously. Rin, his roommate pops in, nodding automatically that yes, it does.

"The tassel on your graduation cap goes to the right, doofus," He teases, moving the tassel to the correct side. "Look at you, all swanky in your graduation robes. Too bad the university's colors are black and grey. How boring."

"You're wearing the same robes," Rei points out, walking into the bedroom. Although they chose to pursue different career paths, they'd all attended the same university, and remained friends over the years, choosing to share an apartment together their sophomore year. "Ready to go, guys?"

Haruka nods, taking one last look at himself. He feels like he's in someone else's skin, having never expected himself to make it into college, let alone graduate it. It has seemed like a million miles away, and now, it's snuck up on him. How rude, Haruka thinks grumpily.

At least, today would (hopefully) be the last day he has to see his annoying senior class. Besides Rin, Nagisa, and Rei - friends he's grown closer with in the past few months - he couldn't care less if he never saw his classmates' faces again. Much like high school, he was ignored and judged. Not to mention, his peers cared more about sex and partying than gaining a proper education.

Every day was another difficult step to escape the darkness from four years ago. But now, he was ready. Ready to go out into the world and start a new life, one that he controlled.

Become anyone he wants to be.

Even though it's against the dress code rules, Haruka pulls the star pendant out from under his graduation robes and stuffy suit, letting it rest on his breastbone where everyone can see.

Haruka turns to his friends who smile at him knowingly.

"Ready," He nods.

- - - -

"Esteemed students, faculty, dear family and beloved friends, ladies and gentlemen, a pleasant morning to you. Although I'm sure most of you aren't happy being up this early on a Saturday summer morning, I would like to personally thank you for being here, on behalf of the happiness in the hearts of the graduating class today--"

Haruka comes to realize there is a proud smile on his face as he listens to Rei's introductory speech at the graduation ceremony, representing their year. The two of them had fought for the top rank of the class for seven years, since the start of highschool. Yet somehow, Haruka is the one who is wearing the silver sash, the one who will be delivering the valedictorian speech. It was still mind-boggling he's managed to keep up his grades as well as succeed with his art.

Rei's speech is powerful as it is intelligent, and by the time he wraps up the speech, Haruka's palms are sweating. He wrings them in his lap, staring straight forward, and waits for the words familiarized by last night's graduation rehearsal:

"And now, it's my pleasure to introduce you to the 2022 class valedictorian, as well as my close friend, Haruka Nanase."

Thunderous applause feels like rainfall cascading on his shoulder as Haruka hesitantly stands up, approaching the podium. His eyes dart around the dome, hundreds of eyes trained on him. Haruka glances down at his notecards, bullet points of a pre-planned speech he's rehearsed in the mirror several times prior, but none of the words are what he wants to say. He decidedly turns them over and never looks at them again, opening his mouth to speak.

- - - -

Haruka blinks, and the entire outdoor pavillion is silent for precisely two seconds.

Then, the applause is twice as deafening as the first. Haruka sees quite a few people standing, and when he spots his family, they're cheering and crying happily, clapping louder than the rest.

He exits the stage, giving a meek wave to the audience, and takes his labeled seat next to Kiri Nahawa, a girl he'd hardly spoken two words to. She gives him a reassuring smile and Haruka remembers to return one back.

When the dean steps on stage, announcing that the class has graduated, the students toss their caps in the air. Haruka admires the the rainfall of graduation caps silently, pride swelling in his stomach.

He hopes Makoto is watching. Cheering him on.

When he looks to the sky again, the caps have turned into shooting stars.

- - - -

Haruka stands alone in the courtyard near the stage, distancing himself from the crowds of graduates and their loved ones, snapping pictures and hugging each other happily. He hears talk of summer vacation plans and career opportunities, taking the next step of their lives. Every time Haruka sees a familiar face, he wonders if he'll ever see any of them again after today.

A couple of his classmates stop him, thanking him for his inspiring speech. Hardly recognizing most of them, he gives them a tight-lipped smile, shakes their hands, and accepts their compliments. With a yawn, he lazily seeks out his family so he can go home and take a nap.

Shuffling his feet awkwardly, Haruka kicks the grass with his shoe and waits to spot them. Amidst his search, he feels a hand on his shoulder, shocked at how cold the sensation is even under a set of robes. He whirls around, facing an intimidating-looking man.

The man had the type of angled face that was still undeniably handsome in mid-forties, shadows and harsh lines that softened when he smiled. Haruka notices his choice of dress; a classic black-tie suit that was custom tailored.

"I just wanted to thank you for the speech you gave this morning," He says in a raspy voice, like that of a smoker of several years. "It touched me in ways that only those who have lost a loved one can understand."

"Thanks," Haruka says awkwardly, miffed by the man's pitch-black eyes. "It's been... hard."

"Someone who is in mourning but still manages to be so successful..." He continues pensively. "It's..." He eventually finds the word. "Extraordinary."

"Well," Haruka says with an awkward blush, "Makoto taught me the strength to overcome those hardships I faced, and become the best I can be," He shrugs. "Without him, I wouldn't have seen the value in living for myself."

"Makoto was certainly charismatic in that way," The man laughs, and it sends a shiver down Haruka's spine. He could think of a few words that matched. Charismatic. Magnetic. Electric. "He was like this hybrid, this mix, of someone so capable and yet inherently selfless."

Haruka grows suddenly defensive and narrows his eyes. "Did you know Makoto?" He finds himself asking. The man talks of Makoto as if they were close friends, and Haruka was sure he would've known about someone like that in his life.

"You could say that," The man smiles, showing off a set of pearly white teeth. Not the teeth of a chronic smoker, Haruka notes. "We were close, at one point."

Haruka hums, unconvinced.

"It's unfortunate he couldn't be here to cheer you on today." The man continues softly.

"He was the one who pushed me to apply to the university's design program in the first place," Haruka smiles fondly. "There was a centerpiece I submitted in my portfolio for the application. Inspired by him."

"Yes, I recall. You won an award on it at the Tokyo Museum art gala last year, correct?" He asks. "It was a fantastic piece. I recognized him instantly."

Haruka looks away shyly. "...Thanks." He mutters.

He feels a hand on his shoulder again. Haruka casts a side glance down; looped around milky, calloused skin is a silver ring with a large gemstone on top.

"He would've been so proud of you, Haru," He offers a smile.

Haruka stares at the ground for a moment, the man's words cycling in his head. After a moment, it hits him.

He called me Haru.

"Haruka!" Haruka hears a familiar cheerful voice, and when he looks to his left, he sees Asuka running towards him, practically stumbling over herself in her heels.

Patting Haruka's shoulder, the man nods curtly before walking off.

"Hey, wai-"

He snaps back to attention, glancing in the direction the man left, but he was gone, replaced by a crowd of graduates. Haruka glances around furtively, desperately seeking out the man, but he seemed to have disappeared.

Asuka approaches him, immediately pulling him in for a tight hug. "Oh my gosh, look at you! College graduate! I'm so jealous, freshman year is so hard--" She pauses, following his eye. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Haruka continues to stare at the crowd, unable to shake off the feeling he's being watched. After a moment, he shakes his head and smiles at his cousin.

"Nothing."

"If you say so," Her worried frown is replaced by a mischievous grin. "Hey, come on! The whole family's waiting to take pictures!"

Asuka drags him away, and Haruka gets one last look at the crowd before he turns his head, forgetting the manner entirely.

- - - -

May 6th, 2029

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I announce the grooms!"

Excited cheers and applause echoes throughout the ballroom as Nagisa pulls Rei down to his level to kiss him eagerly. Rei nearly topples over but steadies himself, and Haruka sees their smiles as their lips meet.

"Knew it would happen someday," Rin grins in amusement as he approaches Haruka's side, clapping louder than the rest. "That high school sweetheart thing was never going to fade, huh?"

"No way," Haruka suppresses a laugh. They embrace, having not seen each other in years. "Nagisa's got Rei wrapped around his finger. And neither of them would have it any other way."

"You got that right," Rin shakes his head, but he's still smiling.

The emcee starts to play a familiar wedding tune, and people fill the dancefloor, Nagisa and Rei in the center. They're lost in their own little world, Nagisa even singing along to the lyrics to the old 00's song. Rin offers his hand to Haruka, and he takes it, allowing him to drag him on the dancefloor.

Haruka tenses as Rin's hand finds its way to his hip bone. They sway to the music for a moment, and Haruka fixes his gaze on the chocolate fountain on one side of the room.

"Hey, how are you doing on your own?" Rin asks. Still in need of a roommate and want to relive the old college days?"

"Contrary to the 'starving artist' stereotype, I'm actually doing pretty well for myself," Haruka answers proudly. "I've moved into my new house last month. It's small, but it's enough. And my job working with the advertisement company is going well."

"Good to hear you're finally settling down," Rin says, raising an eyebrow. Haruka catches his unspoken question and blushes.

"No, not like that," Haruka shakes his head. "It's just me right now. It's alright. I'm alright," He repeats. Rin stares at him a moment longer, unconvinced.

He watches as Rei dips Nagisa slowly, bringing him back up even slower. Their eyes lock, and Haruka feels shocked by the electricity. He also feels Rin's eyes still on him and he knows exactly what he's thinking. Still, he chooses to ignore it.

Rin's hands move slightly lower; dangerous territory. Haruka knows what's coming next. He lowers his head, leaning in towards Haruka's ear. "Do you want to get out of here?" He asks softly, and Haruka swallows, nodding.

His hand never leaves Haruka's side as they exit the ballroom.

- - - -

When he wakes up at sunrise, Rin is already buttoning up his dress shirt.

"Leaving already?" Haruka sits up, propping himself up with one elbow. "It's barely eight."

"I have a work meeting I have to get to," Rin says quickly, never meeting his eye.

"At least let me cook you breakfast." He offers.

"I'll pick up coffee on the way."

Rin starts to leave, but Haruka is already out of bed, one step ahead of him. He grabs Rin's wrist, stopping him from taking another step.

"Rin."

Rin turns around, still not looking his way.

"Look at me."

Rin clicks his tongue in annoyance, and their eyes meet. "What, Haru?" His tone is exasperated. Haruka hates that he's made him so impatient. "I have to go."

"What did I do wrong?"

Rin tries to pull away from his grasp, but Haruka tightens his grip. "You were talking about him. In your sleep."

Haruka takes a shaky step back, reflexively shaking his head no, no.

"You're still not over Makoto, are you?" Rin demands, and Haruka recognizes that voice. He's angry. But so is Haruka.

Don't say his name, he silently begs.

"Clearly, what we had going on in college was just us kids being stupid," He practically spits. "No wonder we haven't kept in touch all these years."

You're wrong.

Taking a step forward, he reaches for the pendant resting on Haruka's skin. He lifts the chain, staring at it sadly. He knows what it means; both of them do. "It'll never be me, will it?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

No. Stop.

"It'll always be him."

Don't leave me too.

Haruka blinks, and Rin yanks his arm away. He grabs his coat and leaves the bedroom, knocking over a box as he storms out. Haruka watches blankly as it falls, and the contents spill out. Memories from high school spread across his carpet; a graduation cap, a math notebook, a dusty flash drive, and other memorabilia.

Haruka eyes one item in particular: a photo taken of him, Makoto, and his cousins on their trip to Normandy. The crimson sunset is pouring warmth around them, blurring their edges with gold light. Makoto has his arm tossed around Haruka, and Haruka's smiling like he has the key to the world. In a way, he has. Had.

Haruka takes off the necklace for the first time in over ten years, and tosses it in the box. He kneels down, shoving the other items back into the box, and tucks it on the top shelf of his closet, vowing to never look at it again.

- - - -

December 30th, 2035

Not a single tear comes to Haruka's eye as his mother's casket is lowered into the ground. Around him is a sea of strangers, probably distant relatives and work acquaintances, joining to mourn the loss of Lucinda Nanase, who recently passed from a heart attack while behind the wheel.

Before men start to shovel dirt back into the hole, Haruka steps forward and tosses a single flower into the grave. He doesn't give it a second glance as he walks away, the rest of the bouquet in hand.

The Iwatobi Cemetery was familiar territory to him. He'd been there several times before, kneeling by Makoto's gravestone. Walking towards it felt like clockwork of a time nearly twenty years ago; it was right by the old cherry tree, embossed in marble.

He hasn't thought of Makoto in a while, but he felt it necessary to pay his respects. His fingers graze the tree's bark as he heads down the hill, down the familiar dirt path.

Haruka's eyes scan the words he's read dozens of times before:

Makoto Tachibana

November 17th, 1999 - January 3rd, 2018

Beloved son and friend

The familiar pang in his chest claws its way to his heart, and he kneels down and sets the bouquet by the gravestone and walks away before he finds himself there for hours, talking to the grave like he did as a stupid teenager.

- - - -

January 2nd, 2036

The bittersweet scents of coffee beans and old books of Entre les Linges warm Haruka instantly from the frigid January cold, and he melts into the familiarity of home. He flops into an oversized chair, the squeak like music to his ears. His eyes close instantly, and he listens to the crackle of the fireplace.

After a few minutes, he senses the presence of someone nearby. Cracking his eyes open, he comes face-to-face with a bright-eyed brunette that reminds him of Asuka, who moved to Paris a few years ago to study fashion.

"For you," She smiles warmly, setting a steaming cappuccino on the side table. "On the house."

Haruka takes a look on the name tag pinned to her pinstripe blouse. Ran Tachibana.

Keeping his expression level, he admires the young woman. Now that he recognizes her, he sees the baby-face of the nine-year old through a coat of smudged mascara and soft, womanly features. She must've been in her last year of college, perhaps graduate school, by now.

"Thank you," He nods, taking the cup by the handle and taking a sip. It has the taste of home.

He's relishing in the sights and smells of the bookstore, immersed in his own little world, only to be broken from his reverie when the doorbell tinkles. A woman, wearing a fashionable trench coat and a baby pink scarf, enters the shop, disappearing behind some shelves. Haruka hardly gets a glimpse of her face, but she is strikingly familiar, somehow.

Haruka sets the coffee cup down gently and rises from his chair, following her to the bookshelves. He finds her inspecting a Japanese-translated copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet, flipping to a specific page.

"To be, or not to be-- that is the question," She whispers to herself, as if entranced by the words.

"Excuse me," Haruka reaches out to touch her arm. She jolts in surprise, having been too immersed in her search to notice him. "Sorry to bother you, but do I know you from somewhere?"

"Why, yes," She studies him. "Haruka Nanase?"

"That's me."

"I'm Zoe Karasawi. I was in your third year high school class, I believe."

"Wow. You look... great. How are you doing?"

She sighs. She must not be one for small talk. "Let's cut to the chase. I know why you're here, you know. And you should also know I can't answer your questions about what happened. It was Makoto's story to tell, not mine." Haruka must be looking at her like she's grown another head, because she lowers the book, realizing his silent confusion and surprise. "Oh... oh my. You never found it."

Haruka takes a step closer. "Found what?" His voice is deadly quiet.

Zoe takes a step back. Haruka sees tears pooling in her ocean eyes, which only adds to his agitation. "I... You... never checked the box. The one in your closet."

"What bo-- h-how do you know about that?" Haruka sputters, hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. He's angry, he's confused, but mostly, he's afraid."Just w-who are you?" And what do you know about Makoto?

Zoe tucks the book in the crook of her arm and steps around him. "I have to go. I'm sorry," She apoligizes, ducking her head. Haruka catches a glimpse of a scar on her neck just before a head of blonde curls bounces on her shoulder. She brushes by him before Haruka can get out another word.

Haruka freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do.

And then, it hits him.

He pulls out his phone, pressing a pre-saved number on his call history.

"Yes, Japan Railway Network? I'd like to reschedule my train trip home for next week. I'm going to need a ticket on the first train from Iwatobi to Tokyo you can get."

- - - -

January 3rd, 2036

It's long past dark when Haruka finally arrives home to his house. He fiddles with the keys and drops them twice, his hands are shaking so much. Damn it, he curses to himself, his fingers numb from the cold, having forgotten his gloves back in Iwatobi.

When he's inside, he barely remembers to lock the door and sets his suitcase by the front door. He doesn't bother to turn on the lights as he stumbles upstairs into his bedroom, opening his closet doors.

There.

On the top shelf, collecting dust; it hasn't been touched nor contents looked at in several years.

"There's something," Haruka says to himself desperately, pulling the heavy box off the shelf, setting it on his bed. "Something I missed. Something important. But what?"

He dumps the contents on his bedspread, sending dust everywhere. Sneezing, he fans the dust cloud away and sorts through the old memorabilia. Everything seems familiar, until he spots what's out of place.

The flash drive.

So uninteresting, he would've obviously missed it before. He picks it up carefully, realizing he's never owned this. Any electronic hard drives from high school or college were in a small drawer of electronic pieces by his desk. Flipping it over, he reads the label, which is faded with time: 28 DAYS.

Makoto's handwriting, Haruka realizes, surprised he remembers it after so long.

He exits the room and enters his office, sitting down in the desk chair. His hands shaking from nerves yet again, he manages to plug in the drive after a couple of failed attempts. The computer takes a few agonizing seconds to boot up, and even longer moments to process the flash drive. The folder is blank, but Haruka clicks on it anyway.

Inside the folder is a single audio file, unnamed.

Haruka puts on the plugged-in headphones and turns up the audio as loud as he can. He hears the crackling of static, the shuffling of movement. And then, four words that break his heart and make him fall in love all over again.

"Hey, Haru. It's me."

Haru falls back in his chair, feeling like the weight of the world is pressing him down.

"Is it strange to hear my voice like this?" He laughs, in that same broken way he always did when he was nervous. "This is strange for me too. I never expected to find myself here..."

Haruka can instantly hear that he's holding back tears. Makoto was always such a crybaby, Haruka thinks. He pictures Makoto sitting there at his desk, hunched over an audio recorder, barely keeping himself together. Haruka understands the feeling completely, he's one dangling string away from being completely snapped in two.

Every part of his body and mind is screaming at him to take off the headphones, to throw the flash drive away, to move on once and for all. But of course, as stubborn as he is and has always been, he doesn't listen.

And so he does.

Wrapping himself up in Makoto's anxious and hurried voice, he closes his eyes and he's back in time thirty years. He's a teenager again, glaring down impatiently at the panicked boy in the back of the seafood restaurant. He's smirking when the boy drops his pencil in class, blushing like a tomato. He can feel the tears trailing his skin as he pours his heart out that night on the beach, and relishes in the faint feeling of his scarf around his neck. He remembers the crashing of the waves, the smell of peach tea as it warms his hands, constellations decorating the cliffs of Normandy. It was all so real.

So when Makoto tells him that he went back in time, at first, Haruka doesn't believe him. He refuses to. And then, as he tells the story, more of it makes sense. It's ridiculous, it's impossible, but it makes sense.

And Makoto would never lie to him.

But then again, Haruka remembers how he thought of suicide nearly every day before Makoto. He remembers the numbers that counted down on his wrist each day, and never pieced the puzzle together until now. He never realized the numbers correspond to the day of his inevitable death.

It hits him like a wave: Makoto died to save me. He repeats it in his head over and over, until the words don't make sense anymore and he feels more lost than ever before.

"What an idiot," Haruka whispers to no one. He's not sure if he's laughing or crying or somewhere in between. Of course he would, Haruka thinks, shaking his head.

"Because of my death, it meant you got to live, Haru. And that's all I ever wanted from the start. I know you're going to become someone wonderful, because you already are. I only wish I--"

Haruka listens as he chokes up, pausing for a couple of seconds to compose himself and get his voice back. He braces himself for the words he both desperately needed and never wanted to hear.

"--I only wish I could've been there with you longer."

Something snaps in Haruka, and the tears fall freely. He wipes them away angrily, telling himself that he wouldn't cry. Makoto always hated to see him cry.

"Whatever you do, please don't blame yourself. I'll always choose you over me, Haru. If I were given the chance to do it again, I'd do it without a second thought. Do you know why?"

Don't say it, Haruka thinks, desperate. Or I'll never be able to move on. His hand reaches for the flash drive, just about to pull it out, when Makoto's shaky voice pushes him over the edge.

"Because if I never got to save you, I never would've been able to fall in love with you."

Haruka freezes.

"I love you, Haruka Nanase."

Makoto can barely get his words out without crying, and Haruka strains to comprehend them. There's no stopping now. He's sucked in, just like he was all those years ago, by Makoto's magnetism.

"I love you. I love you. I love you... I'm sorry I never got to tell you that in person. I knew it. I felt it, every day... I'm sorry things turned out this way; it just happened. We just happened, and I'm so lucky we did."

Every moment, every word, became so precious to Haruka he was afraid they'd slip from his grasp and shatter before his eyes. He closes his eyes, unmoving.

"Remember how you promised you weren't going to leave me? Maybe you're thinking you broke that promise. You always said promises were worse than lies, because they give you hope. I'm not sure how much of that I have left to give. But I made a promise too."

"I promised that I'd never forget you."

Haruka feels his world implode in his chest.

"Think of the stars, Haru," Makoto's voice is barely above a whisper. "But don't stop there. Don't stop for anyone."

The audio cuts off abruptly, and Haruka is brought back to reality. For several minutes, he sits there, staring blankly at the wall. He dances on the line between life and death, wondering what is reality and what is a dream.

He thinks of Zoe in the bookstore, and her copy of Hamlet. From his English studies in college, he recalls the last lines of the monologue:

To die, to sleep. To sleep--perchance, to dream: aye, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come.

Haruka rises to his feet and takes off the headphones, setting them gently on the desk. He ejects the flash drive and places it in the drawer, shutting down his computer.

Entering his bedroom, he brushes all of the things back into the box, leaving the star-shaped necklace on the comforter. After putting the box back in storage, he slips the nexklace over his head, the familiar cool metal brushing against skin.

He doesn't bother to change as he climbs into bed, curling up underneath the blankets and staring at the ceiling. When his eyes close, he tries to process Makoto's story. Once he gets past the sound of Makoto's voice, he finally understands.

Makoto was a mix of a man who held himself back and couldn't contain his love, bursting with appreciation for life. So much appreciation, in fact, he was willing to sacrifice his own for Haruka.

He was a hybrid of a man, torn between being a selfless person and missing out on all the opportunities life had to offer him. Everything became clear, and he grew hypersensitive to the world around him; a world that he was lucky enough to be living in, a world he would never take for granted again.

And amidst his realization, Haruka finally understood who Makoto Tachibana was, and who he would always be.

His thumb runs over the star, and he turns over to stare out his window. Outside, he spots a single star, wavering in a sea of blackness. No matter what, the stars would be there. And weirdly enough, Haruka had a feeling Makoto would always be there too.

He decides to make one last promise to Makoto. To himself.

I'll never forget you either.

The End.

- - - -

A/N: Thank you. Thank you for sticking on this journey with me. It's been a long ride, over a year of blood, sweat, and tears (lots of those) poured into this story. 28 DAYS has been a big part of my life and has changed me a lot, much more than I ever thought it would (I remember I thought it would be a short story I'd complete for NaNoWriMo 2016, ha!). Since then, I've had to overcome lots of issues with my life and subsequently, doing things I loved like writing became too much to bear.

Today is January third, and I've been thinking a lot about Haru, Makoto and this story. I knew I needed to write something to bring closure to their story, so I can find closure for myself. I hope you enjoyed it. 

I think... its time for me to move on from Wattpad, at least for a while. I'm not going to stop writing, but it's time I take a long break. Thank you for all the memories and support you've given me over the years; without you, I wouldn't have learned how to use storytelling to find myself. Without you, I wouldn't be who I am today. Someone stronger, someone willing to fight for their own happiness. 

I'm glad it turned out this way.

Love, Hannah

P.S. I hope you'll always think of the stars, too. I know I will.