The first thing I noticed was the voice.
I was standing just outside the university bookstore, squinting down at a list of textbooks I needed for next term, when I heard it. Sharp, casual, confident. The kind of voice that never questioned whether people were listening, because it assumed they already were.
I didn't need to look up to recognize it.
Reiji.
He was laughing about something, surrounded by a small group of students I didn't recognize, newer underclassmen maybe, or just people too young to remember who he used to be when he was with me. My stomach tightened as if I had swallowed something heavy and sharp.
For a moment, I stayed frozen behind the display of promotional stationery, hoping I could just fade into the crowd, walk away unnoticed.
"Yo, Haruki!"
Too late.
I turned slowly, a neutral smile already stitched onto my face.
Reiji stood taller now, his hair more carefully styled, clothes sharper, but the smirk he wore hadn't changed at all. It was the same one he wore the day he tripped me in front of the cafeteria, the same one when he threw my notes in the rain and laughed like I was a joke only he understood.
"Didn't expect to see you here," he said, stepping closer. "Thought you'd gone full recluse or something."
"I could say the same," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
The others in his group shifted awkwardly, sensing the tension but not understanding its roots.
Reiji waved a hand. "We're just grabbing some coffee. You should join us. You've got time, right?"
I blinked. "Why would I do that?"
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Because we're old friends. Come on, man. No hard feelings, right? You've got your cash now. Living the dream."
There it was, the real reason he had come over. Not to reconnect. Not to apologize. He wanted something.
I took a slow breath. "We were never friends."
Reiji gave a dry chuckle, glancing at his group as if I'd told a joke they were all supposed to laugh at. But no one did. They just looked confused.
"I'm serious," I said, my voice a little firmer now. "You made my life hell. You don't get to pretend that didn't happen."
The smile faltered. Just slightly. Enough for me to see the flicker of something behind it, annoyance, maybe even a sliver of guilt, though I wasn't holding my breath.
He shrugged, trying to brush it off. "That was high school stuff. We were kids."
"Maybe you were," I said. "I didn't get to be."
He opened his mouth to reply, but I didn't give him the chance. I turned and walked away, ignoring whatever parting comment he made to save face in front of his entourage.
My heart was pounding, my hands shaking slightly as I slipped into a quiet hallway behind the bookstore. I leaned against the cool wall, let the silence wrap around me.
It was the first time I'd ever stood up to him. And even though I hated how much he still rattled me, I felt something else too, pride. Not because I'd embarrassed him, but because I hadn't let myself be small.
Not anymore.
—
Later that day, I met Mika in the campus garden. It was a small, peaceful space tucked between two buildings, often overlooked. But we had found it together during a rainstorm weeks ago, and it had become our little escape.
She was sitting on the stone bench beneath the cherry tree, her sketchbook open on her lap, a faint breeze lifting the edges of the pages. When she saw me, she smiled, then immediately narrowed her eyes.
"What happened?"
I sat beside her with a sigh. "Reiji."
"Ugh. What did he want?"
"To pretend we were ever friends."
She frowned. "And?"
"I told him the truth."
Mika looked at me, studying my face like she was searching for signs of hurt. "How do you feel?"
"Shaken," I admitted. "But also… free."
She nodded slowly. "That's how healing works. Not all at once. Just piece by piece."
I looked out at the petals drifting through the air like pink snowflakes. "He's not the same person anymore, not completely. But I don't need an apology. I just needed to stop carrying it."
We sat in silence for a while, letting the wind do the talking.
After a few minutes, she asked, "Do you ever wonder what your life would've looked like if you hadn't won that ticket?"
"All the time," I said. "But not in the way I used to."
She looked curious.
"Before, I thought winning fixed everything. Like money was the magic key that unlocked a better life. But now… I think it just gave me room to grow. The real change was always inside me. It just took longer to find."
Mika smiled, her gaze warm. "That's beautiful."
I hesitated. "It's still hard, though. Some days I wake up and I still expect to be invisible. Like I'm waiting for someone to remind me I don't belong."
She touched my arm gently. "But you do. You always have. Even when no one saw it."
Her words didn't just comfort me, they anchored me.
—
That night, I returned to my apartment feeling more grounded. I made tea, sat by the window, and watched the stars appear, one by one, in the dark velvet sky. The city was quieter at this hour, and I liked it that way. It gave me space to breathe, to think, to be.
I picked up my journal and flipped to a fresh page.
April 4th.
*I saw Reiji today. The past came back like a punch to the gut. But I didn't run. I didn't shrink. I faced him. Told him the truth.*
And I didn't break.
Maybe that's what growth really is, not the absence of fear, but the decision to walk forward anyway.
I think I'm learning how to live again. Not just survive. And the strange thing is, even the hard days feel valuable now. They remind me how far I've come.
This new chapter of my life isn't about proving anyone wrong. It's about proving myself right, that I was always more than what they said I was.
I set the pen down, leaned back in my chair, and let the silence settle in around me. It no longer felt cold.
It felt earned.