Monday came with clouds—gray ones, heavy and silent.
Rei sat at his desk in class, but his thoughts drifted far from the lecture. His fingers tapped the side of his desk to a rhythm only he heard. A rhythm she had started to match, unknowingly, every time they were together.
It had only been two days since their kiss.
Two days, and he couldn't stop replaying it.
The way Kana had said, "You're in my head more than you should be." The warmth of her hand. The feeling that something real had started to bloom.
But today, her messages had slowed.
She wasn't replying with her usual excitement.
And that evening, when he finally met her outside her school gate like they'd planned, he noticed it immediately—something was off.
"Hey," he said, brushing his fingers through his fringe. "Sorry, was the wait long?"
Kana looked up at him with a small smile. "Not really."
There it was. That tone. A little distant. As if something was holding her back.
Rei's heart twitched. "Is everything okay?"
She hesitated before nodding. "Yeah. Just… had a lot on my mind today."
They walked in silence for a while, past the café where they once sat, past the intersection where they split ways each afternoon. But instead of parting, Kana stopped at the edge of the bridge overlooking the canal.
The sky above was pale—sunless, but still bright.
"Rei," she said quietly, not looking at him, "can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
She clasped her hands together. "Do you remember anything about your music class in middle school?"
The question caught him off guard. "Middle school? Uh… I guess a bit. Why?"
Kana's voice softened. "Did you ever… sit by the window?"
Rei's brows drew together. "Yeah, I did, actually. Back of the room. That's where I liked being alone."
She turned her face to him slowly, and there was something in her eyes. Something searching.
"There was this girl. She was terrified of singing in front of people. And every time she was about to mess up, there was this boy who sat near the window. He hummed the tune quietly, just enough so she wouldn't feel alone."
Rei stared at her.
"I told you about him," she whispered. "Remember?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah… but…"
Her voice broke, ever so slightly. "It was you, Rei."
Silence.
Rei blinked, stunned. "What?"
"You were the boy," Kana said, her voice a mixture of awe and sadness. "I didn't realize until recently. It came back to me in flashes. The way you hummed that song under your breath when we were at the booth. The rhythm. The same one from back then."
Rei opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"I remember your eyes now," she went on, stepping closer. "I remember looking back once and seeing you watching me—not in a creepy way. Just… quietly. Like you knew I needed someone."
He was frozen.
"But the worst part is," she added, her voice trembling, "you don't remember me."
"I—" Rei swallowed. "Kana, I… I don't. I'm so sorry."
"I know," she said softly. "And it's okay. You probably didn't even know I existed."
He stepped forward, hurt flickering across his face. "That's not fair. I might not remember middle school, but I know you. The real you. Now."
She looked up at him, eyes glassy. "But it's not the same, is it? I've remembered you for years, Rei. Even when I didn't know it was you, your voice lived in my head like a song I couldn't forget. You were already part of me."
He reached for her hand, but this time she didn't take it.
"I'm just… scared," she admitted. "That I mean more to you now than I ever did back then."
Rei stood in stunned silence. The wind tugged gently at his sleeves.
"I want to mean something to you," she said, her voice barely a breath. "Not just because we kissed. But because I've carried you with me longer than you realize."
---
That night, they didn't text.
Rei lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, earbuds in—but he didn't play anything. The silence was louder than any song.
He opened his old notebooks. Flipped through pages of lyrics he wrote years ago. And then he found it—
A music class worksheet with a faint doodle in the corner. A girl with long hair, standing behind a mic. Underneath it, he'd written something.
"Sing even if your voice shakes. Someone will hum along."
Rei sat up.
His heart pounded.
That wasn't just a line.
It was something he had said.
Not out loud. But in his head. That day.
To a girl he'd never approached. But watched. Quietly. Hoping she'd find the courage.
His chest tightened.
Kana was right.
It was her.
And now, all these years later, they'd found each other again—and he hadn't even known it.
He looked at the moon through his window and whispered, "Kana…"
---
The next day, he waited outside her school again.
She wasn't expecting him. But he had something to say.
When she finally walked out, surprised to see him standing there, he took a step forward.
"I remembered," he said. "Not everything. But enough."
She stared at him, uncertain.
"I found this old note I wrote in music class. About a girl who sang with trembling hands. A girl I couldn't stop watching. A girl I wished I'd talked to."
He took a shaky breath. "You meant something to me back then, Kana. Even if I didn't say it. Even if I forgot."
She stood still.
"And now that I know it was you… I don't ever want to forget again."
For a moment, her expression cracked. Her eyes glistened.
Then she stepped into him.
Not running. Not hesitating.
Just falling.
Like music into silence.
She rested her forehead against his chest.
And whispered, "Play our song."
He pulled out his phone, hit play, and the melody began. The same one from the lake.
As they stood there, wrapped in each other, Rei held her close.
Not just for the version of her he'd come to love now—but for the girl who had stood alone back then, voice shaking, eyes searching.
And finally, he was there.
Humming beside her.