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Akito gently lowered the pink envelope on the fresh dirt.
“This is my answer.” He whispered under his breath.
Rain began to fall from the sky.
And suddenly, he remembered the first time it rained like this.
Akito stared at his reflection in the puddle in front of him. The rain is falling from the sky, soaking his clothes wet. He didn’t care. He just wants a moment of silence to himself.
Then another reflection appeared.
He turned around, and found a blue-haired boy staring down at him. The weirdo and nerd at school, from the same music club.
“What do you want?” He snapped.
Toya’s hands trembled. “I…want to give you something.” He said quietly.
“What? Make it quick.”
He hesitated, then reached into his pocket to pull out a pink envelope.
“Shinonome-kun…please accept my love letter.” He held it out to Akito.
Akito’s brows furrowed.
Love letter?
What?!
He took the envelope from Toya’s hand.
Toya quickly bowed at him and hurried away, leaving Akito standing in the rain, clutching the pink envelope, staring at his back.
“The hell?” He muttered. “What the…” He watched the raindrops falling on the paper, making it wet. Stuffing the envelope in his pocket, he grabbed his bag and went home.
“What kind of idiot confesses in the rain?”
Akito muttered to himself as he dropped his bag on the floor of his room and opened the letter.
Inside was a piece of paper with neat handwriting on it. His brows furrowed in confusion as he gently lifted the paper under the light.
“Shinonome-kun,
I know you probably find me strange. I’m not very good at talking to people.
But when we play music together, I feel like I can understand you a little better. I admire how passionate you are about music.
Even when you look angry, I think you care about it more than anyone else. I don’t know if this feeling will bother you.
But I wanted to tell you that I love you. You don’t have to respond.
I just didn’t want to regret staying silent.
— Aoyagi Toya.”
“What…is that.” He stared at the piece of paper. Did he…just had someone tell him that they like him? And it's Toya! Aoyagi fucking Toya! Why would-
“What a weirdo…” But he folds the piece of paper carefully and tucked it in his bottom drawer anyway.
I’ll just talk to him 2 weeks later, at our next club meeting.
2 weeks later—
“Lets talk about what we should perform at the school festival in a few months.” The teacher said at the front of the room. Akito propped his head up with a hand and stared out the window. Toya isn’t here today, at the club, for some reason. He needs to talk to him about the letter. About…what they should do from now on. With a sigh, he lowered his head down on the desk and drifted off to sleep—until a voice dragged him back to reality.
“I have an important announcement to make.” The teacher said, “Aoyagi-kun will not be in the music club with us anymore from now on.”
Huh?
Not…anymore?
From now on?
Akito’s brain is a big pile of mess. Why? Why won’t he be here? He needs to—
“He is in the hospital right now due to an illness that almost took his life last week.”
A few students gasped.
“Please do not tell anyone else about his situation right now. He’s stable, but it's best if you don’t spread this outside of the club.” The teacher said, “Now, moving on, for our concert—Shinonome-kun, where are you going?” She stopped as she saw Akito standing up from his seat, clutching his bag strap.
“I’m going to see Aoyagi.” He replied as he made his way to the door.
“Club isn’t over yet.”
“I know. I’m still going to see him.” He said, his eyes determined.
The teacher’s gaze softened as she saw his determination. She let out a sigh. “Well then…the hospital is 20 minutes away from here, next to the park. Be careful on your way.” She waved him off. Akito nodded and ran out of the classroom, basically sprinting through the campus. He didn't even care about the rain that began to fall as he walked, his steps quickening with each passing second. His thoughts were loud and chaotic, but one thing was clear:
Toya is sick.
Toya gave him a love letter—while barely holding on to life himself.
And Akito never said anything.
He didn’t stop until he reached the hospital.
“E-excuse m-me, can I s-see Ao-Aoyagi Toya?” He panted out at the hospital counter.
The nurse nodded. “He’s in room 208. Second floor.”
“Th-thanks.” He nodded his gratitude and sprinted up the stairs. Room 208… 2..0..8…here.
He pushed open the door slowly.
Toya laid on the hospital bed, machines beeping around him and tubes stuck to his skin all over him. He opened his eyes slowly. "Shi-shinonome-kun?"
Akito froze in the doorway, heartbeat fastening at the sight of Toya—pale, fragile, connected to machines like a ghost of the boy who’d slipped him a love letter under a rainy sky.
“…Tch. Don’t look so surprised,” He muttered, voice rough but soft. He stepped inside, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I just—” He swallowed. “I came to return your stupid letter.”
Toya blinked slowly, gray eyes tired but sharp enough to see right through him.
Akito pulled out the crumpled envelope — opened now — and held it out with shaky fingers. “…And say thanks,” he mumbled. “For… caring.”
Toya pushed it away. “Don't give it back. Keep it.”
“...why?” He asked, voice barely a whisper.
There was a hint of something in Toya’s eyes. Something raw, and intense. Something that made Akito’s heart pound.
“...because I meant every word. And...this might be the only thing...that can remind you of me when I'm gone.” He said, his head hanging low.
Akito took a step closer, hands clutching into fists. “Don't say that,” He said, voice cracking. “Don't talk like you're already—dammit, you're not gonna die. Don't give me that bullshit—I—...You just…” he said, his voice thick, "you get better. You get better, so I can say something back.”
Toya stared at him, surprised at his sudden show of emotions. Then he lifted his gaze. “...I'll try my best.” He gave a weak smile. “They said I only have a month left.”
Akito was silent, eyes fixed on Toya's face — tired eyes, a weak smile, pale hands trembling on white sheets.
It hurts.
It hurt so much that it felt like a physical weight on his chest. He gritted his teeth again, fighting the wave of anger and fear and desperation coursing through him.
“...a month. Huh?” He muttered. A month…to respond.
“Don’t stress about it.” Toya said softly.
“How the hell am I supposed to do that, hm? How the hell are you so calm about it?” He snapped, taking another step closer to Toya.
Toya looked away. “I've always known about this." He said quietly. "Thats why I gave you the letter.”
Akito froze. “I didn’t know,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you were saying goodbye.”
They were both silent, words unsaid hanging heavy in the sterile air. Akito could do nothing against the flood of emotions now crashing over him: anger at himself, at the world, at Toya for keeping such a secret. His eyes flicked to the machines surrounding Toya, tubes and monitors tracing every laboured breath. "Why didn't you say anything?" He forced out the question, the words like glass in his throat.
Toya stared down. “...I didn’t want you to know.” He said quietly.
Akito took a step closer. “You were…dying. You gave me a love letter—a confession. And…you just expected me to not do anything?”
“...I’m sorry.”
Akito let out a harsh laugh, trembling fingers running through his hair. “You’re sorry? That's all? As if being sorry would change reality, that you are going to die.” He let out a huff. Idiot. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why—? He sat down on the chair beside Toya’s bed. His hands shook as he forced his words out. “Toya…tell me you’ll fight.” He looked up at him. “Please. I need to hear you say it.”
Toya hesitated. Then he spoke softly, “Akito, I can’t promise anything—” His voice shook. “But…I’ll try. For you.” He gave him a weak smile.
Akito let out a breath. At least he’s going to try, for now.
“Thank you.” Akito said. He thought for a moment, then said. “I’ll come back. Everyday, to make sure that you keep on fighting. That you won’t…you won’t leave me like this.” He said, determination in his voice.
Toya stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded. “I’ll wait for you to come back, everyday.”
Footsteps echoed through the hospital hallways. Akito clutched a sheet of paper in his hands, his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he stepped into room 208. Toya is laying on the bed, his eyes closed, his face still pale as ever, but his heartbeat and vitals are fairly stable. His eyes fluttered open as he heard Akito’s footsteps in the room.
“Hey.” He said weakly and gave him a slight smile as Akito sat down beside him.
“Hey. I brought you something.” Akito held out the sheet of paper in front of him. “These are lyrics I wrote a few days before in Music Club. I want you to read it.” He watched Toya’s pale fingers grip the edge of the paper and started reading.
Finally, he set down the paper. “So…what do you think?” Akito asked nervously.
“I think it's beautiful. You’re going to turn it into a real song later, right?” He tilted his head.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, looking away. “I mean, I still need to work on a few things, but… yeah.”
He fidgeted for a moment, before blurting, “I, uh…. wanted you to sing it with me.”
Toya tilted his head. “Sing?”
Akito flushed, suddenly unable to meet Toya's gaze. He mumbled, “I…wrote it with you in mind…and I want you to sing it with me.” His gaze turned up to meet Toya’s. “...Just…give it a thought, okay?” He looked at the machines, at their steady beeping, at the tubes and wires. He looked at the pale hand resting limply on the white sheets. His heart ached.
Toya nodded. He looked over the lyrics and the notes again, and thought for a moment. “Yeah, sure. I would like to sing it with you.” He gave him a small smile.
Akito let out a sigh of relief. “...Thanks…” He muttered.
“I’ll practice it until I can sing it perfectly.” Toya replied.
They were silent for a moment, watching the machines, the tubes, the pale hand on the white sheets. Akito’s heart ached.
“Hey,” he said suddenly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
Akito hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. His voice dropped, quieter than before.
“Why… Why me? Out of everyone, why’d you pick me to fall for?” He scoffed lightly. “I’m not exactly… easy to love.”
Toya was silent, thinking. Then he spoke softly, “...I see your passion for the things you like, the way you care about your friends and family…”
He felt suddenly flustered, face heating up. “S-shut up,” he muttered, avoiding Toya's gaze. “You don't need to say all that—”
“No. I want to say it.” He looked up and stared into Akito’s eyes.
Akito sighed. “You really have shitty taste in people, you know.”
“Too late.” Toya replied.
Akito’s fingers twitched, he wanted to grab the boy’s fragile fingers and hold it in his—
“Can I hold your hand?” He asked shyly. “Just…for a bit.”
Toya gave a small laugh. “Sure.” He extended out his hand. Akito wrapped his fingers around it.
“Your hands are cold…” He muttered as he traced his fingertips across the soft skin.
“...yeah. The normal stuff for sick people.” Toya chuckled.
“I feel like…I might break you…” He mumbled.
“Idiot. You’re not going to break me like this.” Toya replied, but he held on just a little tighter on Akito’s hand.
2 weeks later—
Toya's body had gotten worse over the course of time. He's on a ventilator now, and can pass out any second. It felt like a punch to the gut, seeing Toya lying in that hospital bed, looking even more pale and thin. The tube down his throat. The wires and machines everywhere. He looked so, so fragile, and all Akito could feel was helpless anger. He clenched his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms.
Toya's fingers twitched, gesturing for Akito to come closer. He stepped forward immediately, heart hammering. He knelt by the bed, bringing his face level with Toya’s. “I’m here,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I’m right here.” Toya’s eyes—weak but so aware—locked onto him. And slowly… his fingers curled around Akito’s wrist.
Just barely.
Just enough to say: I know.
He was gone the same night.
Akito stood in the cold hospital room, staring down at the empty bed.
He was just here. He was here just now.
His breath caught. His legs felt shaky. His knuckles were white from clenched fists.
The machines were turned off. The tubes were unplugged. It was so still and silent it sounded like the world had stopped.
“...You're Shinonome?” A female's voice rang behind him. It's Toya's mom, her face streaked with tears.
Akito's throat tightened. He slowly turned to face her, trying to control the emotions churning in his gut.
“Yeah… that's me,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Her eyes scanned his face, taking in the redness of his eyes, the clench of his jaw. She looked like she was barely holding herself together.
She took a deep breath, and took something out of her bag. She handed it to Akito. “...Toya said he needed to give you this.” On her open palm was a small device, an MP3. “He said there's something in here he needs you to listen to.”
Akito's jaw tensed. He reached for the MP3 almost reverently, hands trembling as he curled his fingers around it.
“He… did?”
His voice came out rough, and he cleared his throat, staring at the MP3. His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat.
“...it was important to him. Whatever the thing he needs you to listen to.” She continued. “So…please, give it a listen.”
Akito nodded numbly, staring down at the black device, with faint fingerprints still on the screen. Toya’s fingerprints. “...thank you for giving this.” He finally said, voice hoarse.
“Please…come to the funeral.” Toya’s mom said.
“...yeah. I will.” He said quietly. The air was thick and heavy with grief.
It was hard to breathe.
Everything hurts.
He wanted—needed—to leave.
He mumbled something—a hoarse, half-incoherent goodbye—and walked out of the room, MP3 clenched tight in his hand.
He walked out of the hospital, into the dark and quiet night. It was freezing. A cold wind hit his face, making his eyes water.
He took a shaky breath.
Just get home, he told himself, forcing one foot to move in front of the other.
It took him a long time to get home—the entire way, the same thoughts kept replaying over and over in his head, like a broken record.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that hospital bed.
Every time he tried to move on, he remembered how Toya's hand had curled around his wrist, so weak and cold.
By the time he staggered through the front door, the emotions were too much. He leaned heavily against the door, chest heaving.
Akito didn’t move.
He just sat there, back against the door, eyes squeezed shut, breath unsteady.
Then—softly—a sob broke free.
His hands covered his face as he finally let it all crash down:
the grief, the guilt, the love he never got to say out loud.
“Toya…” His voice cracked into the dark. “You idiot… why’d you leave me with this?”
He fumbled in his pocket, blindly pulling out his phone.
With trembling fingers, he dialed a number he hadn't used in months.
The phone rang once, twice.
Then a familiar voice came through on the other end.
“…Akito?”
“...yeah, it's me.” He said quietly.
“Whats wrong?”
“I…I need…” His voice cracked. “I…I can’t…” He swallowed hard, trying to speak through the lump in his throat. “...Toya’s gone.” He finally said with a small voice.
“...Where are you right now?” The voice said, footsteps came through the speaker.
“...home.”
“I’ll be there.” She hung up.
10 minutes later, footsteps echoed in the hallway as An quickly walked towards the door, clutching her bag and still in her uniform. “Akito?”
He looked up at the sound of her voice, and something in him crumbled. He was up on his feet before he could stop himself, and the next thing he knew, he was holding onto her like a lifeline. He buried his face into her shoulder, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to bubble up.
“I… I'm sorry," he whispered, voice shaky. "I didn't... I didn't know who else to call.”
She hugs him back, putting a hand on his back and soothing him.
“An,” He sobbed out, “...it hurts. Everything hurts…”
“I know. I know.” She whispered back.
“I just... I never even got to tell him,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I never said... how much he meant to me.” He let out a soft, broken laugh. “I was such an idiot. I should've just—I should've…” His grip on her shirt tightened. He buried his face even further into her shoulder. “But I didn't. And now... now it's too late.”
“It’s never too late to say it.” An said, voice soft but firm. She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and pen. “Here, write it down.” She said gently. “Tell him everything you couldn’t say.”
Akito stared at the notebook. He hesitated. Then he took it from her hands.
He sat back against the door, uncapping the pen and opening the first page of the notebook. Where do I even start? There was too much he needed to say. Too much he never had the chance to say it out loud. He found his eyes stinging again. He drew in a shaky breath and started with the one word that had been ringing in his head since he saw the empty hospital bed.
Idiot.
He wrote the word down. Then he paused, trying to organize the whirlwind of emotions coursing through his head.
Everything was a mess, all thoughts and feelings blurring together into a muddy, incoherent soup. But he needed to try. For him.
He took a deep breath, and started to write.
Akito’s pen finally stopped. His hand was cramped, his breathing slow and unsteady. The page was filled—completely filled—with shaky handwriting, words crammed into every inch of the paper.
“You idiot.”
“I hate that you left me with this.”
“I hate that I didn’t say it when I could.”
“But I love you. Okay? I love you, Toya. More than anything.”
“You were the only one who ever really saw me... and now all I can do is think about all the things you’ve left with me…”
He flipped to the next page.
“I’m gonna sing our song.
All of it.
I’ll play every note, scream every word… even if you’re not there to sing with me.
I’ll make it beautiful—for you.”
Tears dropped onto the paper, blurring the ink.
His hands trembled as he lowered the notebook into his lap.
“...There,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now… now he knows.”
An reached into her bag and pulled out a pink, unopened envelope. “Put it in here.”
Akito looked at the pink envelope, then back at her.
He hesitated for only a moment before carefully tearing out the pages he'd written.
With shaking hands, he folded them and slipped them into the envelope.
An took it gently, sealing it with care.
“We'll give it to him... at the funeral.”
A few weeks later—Funeral
The sky was gray, as if it might rain any second. Akito clutched the sheet of paper—their song, and a pink envelope in his hands. He walked up to Toya’s grave, An following silently behind him. He gently placed the sheet of paper on the dirt, and the pink envelope on top of it. He didn’t speak for a while, then he knelt down, pressing his palm flat against the cold ground.
“This is my answer, Toya.” He said quietly. A breeze passed, and for a second, he swore he heard piano keys in the wind.
He closed his eyes.
“I love you too.” He said softly, “You idiot.”
The wind died down.
The world went quiet again.
Akito stayed there for a long time, hand pressed against the earth, as if he could still reach him somehow.
Then—
His fingers brushed against something in his pocket.
The small device Toya had left behind.
I still haven’t listened to it.
He plugged in his earphones and opened the device. There was only one file in it, titled ‘For Akito.’
He stared at the ‘play’ button.
His thumb hovered over it.
“Just this time, idiot.” He muttered.
He pressed down.
Static filled his earphones.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then—
“Akito…”
His breath hitched.
“If you’re hearing this… I guess I didn’t get to say it properly.”
A weak chuckle.
“You really took your time, didn’t you?”
“But… I’m glad you came to see me.”
“That was enough for me.”
“Ah… before I forget…”
“I practiced the song.”
Like he promised.
A soft melody followed.
His voice was quiet. Weak.
But steady.
Akito’s grip tightened.
He knew these lyrics.
He wrote them.
And yet—
He never understood them until now.
The song ended with Toya chuckling in the background, fading out as he took his hands off the piano keys.
The raindrops dropped one by one on the screen, mixed with Akito’s tears.
“You idiot.” He whispered. “We’re supposed to sing together.”
This time, Akito didn’t move.