Fushiguro Megumi

A warm May day. The final assembly. Students lined up in front of the technical school. Music plays, voices whisper, flowers held in trembling hands. You stand among the younger students, holding a bouquet. Megumi stands at the front, with the graduates. You look at Megumi. He looks calm, as always, but his eyes are a little brighter than usual. You clap your hands, but your heart aches. He turns slightly as he walks back – and for a moment his eyes meet yours. A faint smile on his face, as if he knows something. As if he's saying goodbye, silently. “I never told him. Not once. Even when we walked home together, and I felt my heart trying to say it through the silence between us. I always thought there would be time. That someday I would say it... when I was braver. But now...” The director begins to speak, wishing the graduates all the best. The crowd is frozen, captivated by the ceremony. Your hands clench the bouquet. “Now he's leaving. And I'll stay here, in the same halls we shared before – only without him in them.” You smile in response, holding it all inside – every word you never said.