At the airport terminal, Kyouko walked with subtle shift in her steps—graceful, poised... but clearly uncomfortable.
"You okay, Kyouko?" he asked, glancing sideways with a hint of guilt in his voice.
She gave him a quick side-eye.
"Who do you think caused this?"
She puffed her cheeks slightly. "My ass is sore, you know."
Haruki tried not to grin.
"Sorry... I didn’t think I went that rough."
Kyouko stopped in place, turned toward him, and gave a very soft, tired smile.
"And yet, you still shoved it in like you were in a hurry.
It didn’t even fit properly and you still went all the way..."
She gave him a teasing glare. "That’s all on you."
He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything more,
Kyouko stepped closer and quietly removed her facemask.
She leaned in, cupped his cheek gently—then pressed a soft, public kiss to his lips.
No hesitation. No shame.
And when she pulled back, her voice was sweet... but low and serious.
"Don’t worry about it.
After all... it was for you."
Haruki looked at her. Startled, quiet, moved.
And all he could do was take her hand, squeezing it tightly.
The boarding announcement echoed gently through the terminal.
Haruki turned back after passing through security, his carry-on slung casually over one shoulder.
There, just past the rope divider, stood Kyouko,
facemask on, eyes glistening, purse clutched in both hands.
Even under the bright airport lights,
She didn’t wave at first.
Just stood there, still.
Then, slowly, softly, she raised her hand and waved.
Haruki smiled, lifting his own hand in return.
But when he looked closer.
The tears gathering in her eyes.
She blinked quickly, trying not to let them fall, her mask hiding most of her expression—but not the emotion.
And then, just before he disappeared into the boarding gate...
"Don’t forget to call!"
Her voice was a little muffled through the mask,
but he heard it clearly.
"I will!" he called back, his smile growing.
He gave her one last look,
then turned and walked on.
Once inside the plane, Haruki followed the line of passengers down the narrow aisle.
He found his seat near the window, placed his bag in the overhead compartment, and sank into the seat with a soft sigh.
A gentle chime rang out, followed by the calm voice of the pilot over the intercom:
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
Welcome aboard Flight to Naha Airport, Okinawa.
We’ll begin taxiing shortly. Estimated flight time is two hours and twenty minutes.
Please ensure your seatbelt is fastened and all electronic devices are in airplane mode.
Thank you for flying with us."
Haruki exhaled, leaned back into the headrest, and glanced out the window.
The runway stretched out in front of him, distant lights blinking in the early evening haze.
Then he reached into his coat pocket...
His fingers moved again. Jacket, pants, front pocket of his carry-on.
"My phone..." he muttered, brows drawing together.
His heart gave a small, confused flutter.
Meanwhile, at the airport...
Kyouko didn’t look back as she turned away from the terminal.
Her steps were calm, her posture graceful—
but her eyes told a different story.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, warm against the cool fabric of her mask.
She didn’t understand why she was crying so much.
They’d only be apart for a few months.
She told herself that again.
But her heart... refused to listen.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she walked toward the exit, the hum of other travelers fading into a blur.
She reached the parking lot and pressed the key remote.
The car’s lights blinked once, unlocking with a gentle chirp.
She opened the door and sat down slowly in the driver’s seat.
Inside the car, Kyouko slowly closed the door, sealing herself in silence.
She inserted the key and turned the ignition.
The engine hummed to life, steady and low.
The dashboard lights blinked on, but she didn’t shift into gear.
Instead, she reached into the compartment beside her and pulled out a small tissue pack.
Without a word, she took one and dabbed at the corner of her eye—
as if even that motion hurt.
She didn’t wear makeup, so there was nothing to smudge,
just a clear streak of moisture, and the quiet warmth of her skin.
Her lips parted slightly.
But no words came out.
She didn’t understand why she was crying.
Haruki would be back.
It wasn’t even goodbye.
She leaned back in the seat, hand resting loosely on the steering wheel.
The ache in her chest lingered.
Deep, still, and too familiar.
It wasn’t about the distance.
It was about everything he’d become to her.
And the part of herself she didn’t want to admit she’d already given away.
She rested her head against the seat for a moment, eyes drifting closed.
The tissue crumpled softly in her hand.
The ache in her chest was still there. Dull and steady—
a small, wistful smile curled at the corners of her lips.
she whispered to herself, voice barely a breath.
"I’m going to reward him again.
I’ll let him have me... anytime he wants."
She laughed quietly, wiping the last trace of a tear from her cheek.
Not because she owed him.
But because she wanted to.
Because her body already knew who it belonged to.
And her heart had stopped resisting long ago.
She set the tissue aside, shifted the car into gear, and began to drive.
The airport slowly faded in the rearview mirror.
he drove with both hands on the wheel, the late afternoon light casting soft shadows across her face.
The roads stretched ahead—familiar, yet strangely empty.
She didn’t have any place to stop.
No craving for coffee or fresh air.
Just one thought filling the quiet space between her breaths.
That was the only destination in her mind.
If Haruki were with her,
maybe they’d stop somewhere.
Maybe he’d tease her into getting something sweet,
or pull her into the passenger seat just to kiss her while parked in the shade.
Now she didn’t feel like stopping anywhere.
Not when the seat beside her was so still.
Not when his voice wasn’t there to fill the silence.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
She just wanted to go home.