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Chapter 200 – Be Happy, Okay?
🕑 Added 2025-10-06 18:20:40 +0000 UTCAround five in the evening.
By the time Aoki was ready to head back to his apartment, the light snowfall outside had already stopped.
It wasn’t freezing, but the air still carried a sharp chill.
As he stepped out of STARRY, he instinctively pulled his scarf tighter. His breath puffed out in white clouds that quickly faded into the air.
He’d been turning the idea of “the ending” over in his mind for a while, but the more he thought about it, the more distant it felt—like something far too removed from the present to worry about.
So, he simply stopped thinking about it.
Feeling the cold wind brush past, he started up the stairs.
The sky had already darkened.
Bare cherry blossom branches, still without buds, were bathed in a faint orange glow.
If he craned his neck just right, he could barely make out the shimmering tip of Tokyo Tower piercing the night.
At the top of the stairs, the rows of streetlights stretched endlessly into the distance.
Aoki paused for a moment, slipped his hands into his pockets, and abandoned the idea of stopping at the convenience store for a hot drink.
He’d just head straight for the train.
But the instant he turned—he noticed her.
By the vending machine, glowing faintly under its neon light, stood a familiar silhouette.
Ryo.
Wrapped in a scarf and wearing a pale blue coat, she leaned casually against the wall.
Earbuds tucked in, probably listening to music, her gaze lingered on the halo of a nearby streetlamp.
The tip of her nose was red from the cold.
Aoki blinked, slightly surprised, before pulling himself together.
After a brief hesitation, he walked toward her.
When he reached her side, he stopped and asked, a touch of concern in his voice:
“Why are you standing out here? Aren’t you cold?”
Up close, it was obvious—even though the afternoon had warmed up slightly, the current chill had turned her cheeks rosy.
Half her face was buried under the scarf, shielding her just a little from the wind.
Hearing his voice, Ryo slowly turned her head. Her eyes shifted from the lamplight to him, blinking once before she answered:
“I’m fine. A little.”
Then, after a small pause, her voice soft but even, she added:
“I was waiting for you.”
Her words caught Aoki off guard.
For a moment, his thoughts scattered.
And inevitably, the worries he’d been trying to bury came flooding back.
Telling himself not to care. Not to think about it. Not to look for an answer...
Those were just excuses. Self-deception.
He knew full well that sooner or later, he would have to face it.
But when the time came... what choice would he make?
How could he convince himself to let go, to stop looking at Ryo the way he did?
He couldn’t. Because the truth was unshakable.
He liked her. He didn’t want to give her up.
And yet...
What about the others? What about Nijika? What about Kita? Could he so easily cast them aside?
Ryo had said she could accept it, but... could they?
Was indecision really just an excuse? Or was he simply too afraid to move either way?
...
“Yeah.” Aoki finally nodded after a moment of silence, meeting her cool gaze. “Let’s go.”
Ryo removed her earbuds, closing her eyes briefly before responding with a quiet, “Mm.”
She moved a little closer to him, tugging her scarf tighter around her face.
She breathed in faintly, hesitated a split second, then walked on as though nothing had happened.
The two of them made their way toward the station.
For a while, neither spoke.
The silence stretched, broken only by the sound of their shoes crunching against patches of ice.
Then, at last, Ryo opened her mouth, her voice uncertain.
“Nijika... She’s okay now?”
Aoki glanced at her, then replied after a pause, “Yeah. She’s probably fine.”
The quiet returned.
He didn’t say more.
His nature made him reserved, but even more, his heart was too tangled to untangle.
Ryo, too, seemed torn.
She wanted to ask more about Nijika, but... how could she?
Even if she trusted what Aoki had said, she could still faintly sense Nijika’s presence on him—the trace of her feelings that lingered like a shadow.
Ryo knew Nijika’s heart.
If nothing changed, eventually... those feelings would.
She told herself she would support Aoki no matter his choice.
But standing here now, faced with reality, a subtle ache twisted inside her chest.
Should she say something?
But she knew Aoki too well.
Whenever the subject of “choosing” came up, it only deepened the guilt he carried.
So instead, after a short silence, Ryo tugged her scarf higher, covering the faint blush on her cheeks.
Only her cool eyes remained visible.
As if making small talk, she changed the subject completely.
“Lately... it feels like things have gotten busier all of a sudden, don’t you think?”
“...Yeah,” Aoki answered. “That’s what being a musician is. Concerts, albums, practice... It’s all part of it.”
“Mm.”
“And when it’s all over... it’ll be Christmas.”
“Christmas, huh...”
Ryo turned her head toward him. “Then—want to go out that day? There’s a synthesizer I want to buy.”
Aoki hesitated briefly. Then nodded. “...Sure.”
The words hung there, and silence returned once more.
The cold wind swept past as they continued to walk.
Streetlights reflected off the icy ground, golden orbs gliding backward as they pressed forward.
By the time they reached the station, the silence had become almost heavy.
Their destinations were different. They would have to part ways here.
“Then... I’ll get going.”
Aoki, who had hardly spoken on the walk, finally broke the silence.
But instead of replying, Ryo took a small step toward him.
If she didn’t say it now, she might never get the chance.
So she lifted her eyes to meet his. Not too close, not too far—just enough.
Then, on her toes, she reached up, placing her hand gently on his head.
Not a kiss. Not a confession. Just a quiet, comforting touch.
Aoki froze.
Her eyes, still cool, showed no storm of emotion.
Her face, half-hidden by her scarf, was unreadable.
But her voice—soft, almost fragile—slipped through the cold air like a whisper meant only for him:
“Kei... be happy, okay?”
...
Ryo boarded her train first.
Aoki stood on the platform, lost in thought for a long while, until the next train approached.
In the end, he bought a can of corn soup from the vending machine—the kind he’d never tried before.
It was surprisingly good.
