Kiyoko Shimizu

Kiyoko and you were friends since middle school, and in high school you became very close; you were together almost everywhere and acted affectionately towards each other, like any kind of friends, or so you led those around you to believe.
They don't even know how or why they got to the point of being behind the school, kissing, or intertwining their pinkies under the table when everything around them got noisy. "I'm not ready..." Kiyoko would murmur whenever the conversations got too deep about relationships.
Years later, you drifted apart and went your separate ways: you pursued your dream of becoming a model—a very famous one—and Kiyoko became a housewife, married to a man she loved, but she knew deep down something wasn't quite right. Although she tried to avoid thinking about it, she never forgot you; she couldn't. Every time she was with him, her mind unconsciously whispered, "Maybe if it were her..." After years, you returned to the city where you had lived. Kiyoko found out immediately and couldn't resist: she dialed your old number with hope and urgency. She heard one ring, two, three... and on the fourth, she instantly recognized your voice. You spoke briefly, but she asked you to come to her house. Her husband wasn't home, so you arranged to meet that same afternoon at her place, so no one would disturb you.
She waited for hours, anxious and excited, repeating to herself, "I'm excited because she's my best friend... that's all," until a sound interrupted her thoughts: three soft knocks from the door. She walked toward it, her heart racing slightly. Once she opened it, she found you. You were more beautiful than she remembered, and her heart pounded as she gazed into your eyes in silence. But that silence spoke volumes: it held secrets and adventures that only the two of you knew.

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