Sakura's unwavering declaration – that I was part of her chosen future, even with Todai looming – filled me with a renewed sense of determination. It wasn't just her expected future we had to navigate; it was our shared future, the one we were actively choosing to build together. This put my own pending university decision into sharper focus. My path needed to be one I was passionate about, yes, but it also needed to be a path we could somehow integrate with hers.
I had a few acceptance letters now, including the initial one from the local literature program. I was also waiting on one more, from a university a few hours away by train from Todai, which had a strong interdisciplinary program that combined literature and cultural studies. It wasn't Todai-level prestige, but it felt like a good fit for my interests and offered a potential middle ground in terms of distance.
I spent a lot of time researching the different universities, comparing programs, looking at campus life. Kenji and Aiko still offered their perspectives, reminding me to choose for myself, but also acknowledging the reality of the situation with Sakura.
One afternoon, I was talking to Sakura about my options. We were in the park, sitting under a tree.
"So, still deciding?" she asked softly, leaning her head on my shoulder.
"Yeah," I said, looking at the university brochures in my hand. "The local one is safe. Good program. But..."
"But the one further away is closer to Todai?" she finished for me, her voice quiet.
"Yeah," I admitted. "It has a really interesting program too. Combines literature with cultural studies. It feels... like a good fit for what I want to do. But the distance... it's still a few hours by train."
Sakura lifted her head and looked at me, her expression thoughtful. "Hiroshi-kun," she said, her voice serious. "Don't choose a university only because it's closer to Todai. Choose it because it's the right place for you. Your path is important."
Her words echoed Kenji's and Aiko's advice, but hearing it from her, the one whose future was the main variable, felt even more significant. She wasn't demanding that I sacrifice my interests for proximity. She was prioritizing my path, while still hoping for a shared future.
"I know," I said. "But it's hard not to think about it. About us. About how we'll make it work."
Sakura took my hand. "We will make it work, Hiroshi. No matter the distance. We've already decided that."
She squeezed my hand. "Choose the university that excites you the most. The one where you feel like you can truly thrive. And then... we'll figure out the rest. Together."
Her belief, her trust in our ability to "figure it out," was incredibly reassuring. It shifted the weight of the decision from being about distance and compromise to being about finding my best path, knowing that we would then tackle the challenge of integrating it with hers.
Later that week, I received the last acceptance letter. It was from the university a few hours away from Todai.
The program looked even better on paper. It felt like a place where I could genuinely grow and explore my interests in new ways.
I sat with the acceptance letter, looking between it and the brochure for the local university. Both were good options. Both offered a path. But one felt like it opened up more possibilities, not just academically, but in terms of potentially building a life that, while not in Todai, was perhaps a little more aligned geographically with Sakura's future.
It wasn't a perfect solution to the distance, but it felt like a path I could be passionate about, and one that demonstrated my commitment to facing the challenges of our combined future, without sacrificing my own identity.
I made my decision.
I called Sakura that evening. "Hey, got my last acceptance letter today," I said, my voice a little nervous.
"Oh! Which one?" she asked, her voice full of anticipation.
"The one... a few hours away from Todai," I said.
A moment of silence on the line.
Then, her voice, soft and hopeful, "And...? What did it say, Hiroshi?"
"I got in," I said. "Accepted."
Another pause. Then, a gasp of relief and happiness.
"Oh, Hiroshi-kun!" she exclaimed, her voice full of joy. "That's wonderful! Congratulations! I'm so happy for you! That's a great program, right?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling, her genuine happiness infectious. "It seems like a really good program. A good fit."
"That's amazing!" she said. "So... you're going there?"
I took a deep breath. "Yeah, Sakura. I think... I think that's my path. The one I want to take."
A brief silence. Then, softly, "Okay, Hiroshi. Your path."
She paused. Then, her voice firmer, filled with a familiar resolve, "And... we'll figure out the distance. Together. Just like we said."
My decision was made. My path, while different from hers, was set. The challenge of our combined future, the one built from two potentially distant starting points, was now clear. But her support, her trust, and our shared determination to make it work felt like the strongest foundation for facing whatever miles lay ahead.