"We promised to find each other if we ever got lost. I just didn't expect to find her like this."
I kept walking through the dimly lit streets of Nakameguro, where the streetlights reflected on the calm waters of the canal. The night's heat clung to my back, and the air smelled of warm asphalt and damp leaves. In the distance, the low rumble of an elevated train blended with the persistent hum of the power lines.
There weren't many people out at that hour—just a cyclist speeding past and a couple of stray cats crossing the street with the kind of calm that only creatures who've stopped expecting things can manage.
My footsteps echoed softly against the pavement. I didn't know if I was walking to find her… or to lose myself. Sometimes, when the world goes quiet, your memories get louder.
Aimin…
Was it really just because of that? Just because of that rejection?
I told myself it was, over and over. But now, it feels incomplete. Like that fight was only the tip of something I chose to forget.
That alley… that was where she covered me with her umbrella. She got drenched, but smiled like it didn't matter. She told me, "When you can't protect yourself, I will."
When did I stop believing her?
The city kept moving around me. A flickering neon sign blinked in the distance, and the muffled sound of a TV drifted from a nearby window. Everything felt the same. Everything except me.
I have to find you, Aimin… I need you to tell me what really happened.
We used to climb to the rooftop of her apartment building. We were fifteen. She would close her eyes and say, "I can breathe up here." And I… I'd just watch her, too dumb to realize that was love.
I searched everywhere. Streets, parks, stations. Places we once shared, and others I wandered into on a hunch. Without noticing, two hours had slipped away. And then, I saw her.
She was walking into a love hotel.
For a second, I froze. Was it really her? Aimin?
My heart dropped… and then started pounding so fast I couldn't think. I don't know what drove me, but I ran.
"Aimin!" I shouted, but my voice drowned in the traffic noise.
The hotel clerks stepped in to block the entrance. One of them raised a hand to stop me.
"Sorry, you can't go in like this," he said firmly.
"I need to talk to her! I just need to talk to her!" I gasped, my chest heaving.
They glanced at each other, hesitating. I didn't know if I was making a fool of myself or if I even had the right to be there—but something inside me screamed I couldn't turn back. Not this time.
And then my mind went blank when I saw him.
Some older guy with a pig's face came out behind her. His shirt half-buttoned, belt dangling, wearing that smug look that guys like him always have, thinking the world belongs to them.
He looked at me for a second and gave a short, mocking laugh.
"And who's this? Your jealous little brother?" he sneered, like he had no clue what he'd just done.
I froze, but the rage boiled up like fire in my throat. My chest was pounding so hard I could barely breathe.
For a second, I wanted to step back. But then I saw him smirk.
"You know how old she is, you bastard?" I spat, voice shaking with fury. "She's seventeen, you sick fuck! Seventeen! Does it make you feel like a man to screw a kid, you piece of shit?!"
He took a step toward me, unafraid, and laughed.
"She seemed pretty willing, didn't she? Don't give me your moral bullshit now."
And I lost it.
I lunged at him. I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I just felt my fist crash into his face.
He fell back, but got up fast, staggering. Tried to punch me, grazed my shoulder—but I didn't care.
I shoved him against the wall and hit him again. Once. Twice. Three times… I lost count. The crunch of his nose, the sharp crack of knuckles against skin and bone, his blood spattering my hands.
That night, in the ramen shop in Shinjuku, she asked me if I loved her. I stayed silent. Not because I didn't feel it… but because I was too afraid to make it real.
"Haruki, stop! Stop it!" I heard Aimin scream, but her voice sounded distant, like it came from somewhere else.
I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. With every blow, I thought of all the times I searched for her, all the broken memories, all the things I saw just minutes ago. That bastard touching her, saying those things.
He tried to shield himself, coughed up blood, said something, but I wasn't listening anymore.
Then I felt a hand on my arm. It was Aimin. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
And in her eyes, I saw something I couldn't name. Maybe fear. Maybe exhaustion. Maybe, for the first time, fear of me.
"Haruki… please. Let's just go."
I froze.
Breath ragged, my hands sticky with blood. Him, crumpled on the ground, half-conscious, groaning. Me… shaking.
I looked at her. She was still there. She hadn't run. And for the first time, she wasn't a blurry memory. She was real. And trembling, too.
We promised each other, long ago, that if one of us ever got lost, the other would come find them. No matter how much time passed. "If you can't find me," she said, "then I'll come find you."
"We're leaving," I said at last, my voice barely a whisper. "Now."
I grabbed her hand. This time, she didn't pull away.
And we walked away from the hotel. Without looking back.
Though deep down, I knew—there are places you never really come back from.