The next morning, Kaito woke to the sound of his father's voice downstairs, firm, measured, discussing business on the phone. He stared at his ceiling, tracing the familiar patterns in the wood grain. His conversation with Aoi yesterday lingered like a half-remembered dream.
He reached for his phone. No messages. He hadn't expected any, but still felt a twinge of disappointment. Aoi rarely texted first.
Downstairs, his mother had prepared a traditional breakfast. Rice steamed in ceramic bowls, miso soup simmered in lacquered cups, grilled fish arranged precisely on small plates. His father sat reading financial news on a tablet, barely acknowledging Kaito's arrival.
"Your entrance paperwork for St. Paul's arrived," his father said without looking up. "We'll review it tonight."
Kaito nodded, though his father wasn't watching. The London school had been his father's choice, not his. The Aoyama name carried weight, even internationally.
"I was thinking," Kaito began, picking at his rice, "maybe I could visit during winter break? Before I start?"
His father finally looked up, expression neutral. "That would be wasteful. Better to settle in early, get accustomed to the environment."
His mother placed more fish on Kaito's plate, a silent gesture of comfort. Her fingers trembled slightly, a detail Kaito noticed but chose to ignore.
"I promised Aoi I'd..."
"The Mizushima girl?" His father's interruption was soft but final. "You'll make many promises in life, Kaito. Learning which ones matter is part of becoming a man."
The implication hung in the air. Promises to childhood friends didn't matter. Promises to family legacy did.
Kaito ate in silence, the food tasteless despite its quality. Through the window, he could see the neighbor's garden where he and Aoi had played as children. The cherry trees were shedding their last blossoms, leaving bare branches behind.
After breakfast, he walked to school alone. Usually, he met Aoi at the corner where their streets intersected, but today he left early, avoiding the encounter. He wasn't sure why. Something about yesterday's conversation had left him unsettled, as if they'd already begun drifting apart.
The school day passed in a blur of lectures and whispered conversations. News of his London plans had somehow spread. Classmates approached with curious questions, thinly disguised envy. Kaito found himself embellishing details, making the opportunity sound more impressive than it was.
"My father's connections," he explained to a group during lunch. "The headmaster personally requested me."
The lie came easily, and the admiration it earned felt good. He caught himself scanning the courtyard for Aoi, but she was nowhere to be seen.
When classes ended, he found her waiting by the school gate, a book open in her hands. She looked up as he approached, closing it without marking her place.
"You left early this morning," she said. Not an accusation, just an observation.
"Had some things to take care of." He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. "Want to walk home together?"
They fell into step, passing through the school gates into the afternoon light. Other students moved around them, laughing, shouting, living in a present Kaito already felt disconnected from.
"I told my parents about London," Aoi said after a while.
"What did they say?"
"They said it was a good opportunity." She paused. "My father mentioned your father has been planning this for years."
Kaito frowned. "Years? He only told me yesterday."
Aoi shrugged, her uniform rustling softly. "Maybe he wanted to be sure before telling you."
Or maybe he never considered Kaito's opinion necessary, Kaito thought but didn't say. Instead, he asked, "What will you do? After graduation?"
"Kyoto University, probably. Literature or history." She smiled slightly. "Nothing as exciting as London."
"You could apply internationally too," Kaito suggested, though he wasn't sure why. The idea of Aoi in London with him felt both comforting and somehow threatening.
She shook her head. "I belong here."
The certainty in her voice made him envious. Aoi always seemed to know exactly who she was, while Kaito felt like he was constantly performing a role written by someone else.
They reached the point where their paths diverged. Normally, they would linger, finding excuses to extend their time together. Today, Kaito felt an inexplicable urgency to be alone.
"I should go. My father wants to review school paperwork tonight."
Aoi nodded. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Of course," he said, the promise automatic. "Same corner, same time."
She studied his face for a moment, as if memorizing it. "Kaito, are you scared? About leaving?"
The question caught him off guard. He almost admitted it, the fear beneath his excitement, the uncertainty beneath his confidence. Instead, he laughed.
"Why would I be scared? It's an opportunity, like your parents said."
She nodded again, accepting his answer without believing it. "Then I'll see you tomorrow."
As she walked away, Kaito felt something important slipping through his fingers. He almost called after her, almost ran to catch up, almost told her the truth.
Instead, he turned toward home, where his father waited with paperwork that would take him far from Kyoto, from Aoi, from everything familiar.
He didn't look back to see if she did.