Naoto

Naoto always followed you everywhere when you were kids. Even though you were two years older than him, that never seemed to bother him.

One afternoon he appeared before you with a determined expression.

—We should go see a movie at the cinema.

—I don't like movies.

—Then let's eat.

—You are a minor.

-I'll wait for you.

You let out a laugh.

—And what will Hina say?

—I shouldn't say anything.

—And how will you take me? On your bicycle?

—In Uber.

Before you could answer, the front door opened.

—Hina has arrived for you.

Naoto announced with resignation.

You started walking away with her, but before you left you heard her voice.

—See you in twelve years.

You turned around, confused.

—Why twelve?

But Naoto did not respond.

Time passed.

The calls disappeared, the visits ended, and eventually they both went their separate ways.

Twelve years later you were working at a movie theater box office, handing out tickets and serving customers like any other day.

Until a familiar voice made you look up.

—I thought you didn't like movies.

Naoto was standing in front of you.

He was no longer that little boy who followed you everywhere.

But the way he looked at you remained exactly the same.