Volume 6epilogue part 2

───● Childhood Friend & College Student: Igarashi Koumi ●○●

What exactly defines love at first sight?

Is it literally looking at someone just once and falling for them because you like their face, their vibe, or their figure?

If that’s what love at first sight really means, then I definitely didn’t fall in love at first sight.

…And yet.

The mysterious sensation I felt the exact moment I met him.

And that moment on our way home that day, when he asked, “Would you be my friend?” The sensation of my entire world suddenly bursting into vivid color, striking me like a sudden jolt of electricity.

Maybe the rest of the world calls a moment like that “love at first sight.”

It wasn’t that I had never longed for romance.

Whenever I listened to my best friend Mizuho talk, for example. Even though I had given up on some level, tuning out the sparkling romantic ideals she chased as if they were pure fantasy, I still wanted to date someone if I fell in love. I had dreamed of having that kind of college life, too.

But… maybe because every guy I had ever met disgusted me on a visceral level, I had convinced myself it was never going to happen for me.

I could never accept being stuck on the “side that gets chosen.” It infuriated me that guys who couldn’t be bothered to invest in their own looks or personality were placed on the “side that chooses” simply because men were in short supply.

The one who completely changed that world for me was Masato.

I knew the moment I first met him. This guy was completely different from anyone else.

From then on, we built so many memories together.

Once I began spending my college days alongside Masato, every single day became a joy. I worked hard to keep myself looking cute for him at all times—and that effort was never a burden.

We went on dates, visited the beach together…

And then I found out that we had actually met once before when we were children.

I truly believed from the bottom of my heart that Masato was my fated person.

Along the way, between the situation with Mizuho and all the other girls surrounding Masato, I gradually realized it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing.

Even so, I still loved Masato. I loved him with all my heart.

This feeling had never changed, not even once, since the day I first realized it.

March 31 had finally arrived.

The day Masato would give his answer.

He had told us himself: whoever he chose would receive a phone call at eight o’clock tonight.

“Whew…” I let out a long, heavy sigh.

I was sitting on a bench tucked away at the edge of the campus courtyard.

I had thought about staying at home, but I was far too restless.

Being with Mizuho was an option, too, but if his call went to one of us, I didn’t know if I’d be able to be genuinely happy for her, so I decided against it.

I looked up at the night sky. Maybe because the weather had been so clear today, even the stars over Tokyo shone brilliantly tonight.

I had done everything I could possibly do… literally everything.

From telling Masato how I felt to every other move I made.

I kept hoping those feelings had reached him and that he would return them… but even so.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to soothe my trembling body.

…I guess I’m terrified after all.

I glanced down at my phone. It was 7:55 PM. I had managed to settle in just in time for the promised hour.

Before my eyes lay the wide, empty landscape of the deserted university.

This campus was filled with memories of Masato.

I had walked up those steps over there with Masato.

On that bench, the two of us had eaten curry we bought from a food truck.

And in that building… I had spotted Masato agonizing over his course registration.

Every single one of them was a precious memory.

Clutching my phone tightly in my hands, I closed my eyes.

A chill wind, carrying no promise of spring’s arrival, brushed against my skin.

The passage of time felt like a mere instant… and yet like an eternity.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

How much time has gone by?

Terrified of what I might see, I hesitated before looking down at my phone.

On the cold, inorganic screen of my phone—

It read 8:15 PM.

The digital numbers glowed silently.

Needless to say, there were no incoming calls.

“I… see…” I whispered to the empty air, my voice barely audible.

All the strength drained from my shoulders, and my arms fell limply to my sides.

A single droplet fell with a soft plop, leaving a dark spot on the pavement beneath the bench.

Large tears trickled down my cheeks, overflowing without pause.

—Masato didn’t choose me.