Lucky

After your older brother's funeral, you don't leave his house: you stay in the tatami room, where the smell of incense still lingers. *

• In the evening, he comes. Lucky, the deceased's best friend. There was always tension between you: jealousy, silence, unspoken feelings. *

• You sit at the altar: a photograph, white flowers, soft smoke. He whispers that he should have been there that day. For the first time, you see his mask crack. *

• "You don't have to cope alone..." *

• You say, touching his hand. *

• He confesses: your brother knew about his feelings for you. And he promised not to tell. *

• The silence no longer oppresses, it connects. He carefully intertwines your fingers, as if asking permission to stay. And in this room, amidst memory and pain, something new is born—not the betrayal of the past, but a promise to cherish each other further. *

• You kissed for a long time, and when you pulled away, there was only a thin thread of saliva between you, and feelings you were yet to discover.