[3-Minute Novel] Adults Who Remained Buds | TSUBOMI feat. Kusuo - lecca

Every time spring comes, I remember those days.
It was the spring of my freshman year of college, and he was the one who sat next to me at the club's welcome party.

"I'm not good with people who are nervous," he said with a laugh.

Even though he was the one who started the conversation, he was the one who was most nervous, and for some reason, that felt funny, and we naturally laughed together.

Eight years since we started dating.
Before I knew it, that much time had passed.

"He's the only one I'll ever marry," I had never even doubted that once. Even after we entered the workforce, that didn't change.
What changed was the daily life that surrounded us.

Overtime, deadlines, reading the boss's mood, the last train.
Before I knew it, our communication was limited to necessities, and plans to meet were pushed aside with "some other time." It was rare if we could meet once a month, and when I realized I felt relieved when it was confirmed we wouldn't meet on the weekend, I was deeply hurt.

──I had started to think it was easier not to see each other.

Even when we finally met on our days off, things felt awkward somehow.
I found myself searching for topics to talk about. There were nights when we would argue over trivial things, and I would cry alone on the train ride home.

Even so, I believed that the feeling of "liking" him was real.

One night, while looking at my smartphone, I realized something.
Even seeing his name no longer stirred my heart.
When did I stop thinking about him?

I have to end this properly. I don't want it to just drift along in ambiguity.
I gathered my courage and sent a message saying "I want to talk," and he immediately replied, "Me too."

We sat side by side on a park bench and were silent for a while. The cherry blossoms were already starting to scatter.

"Lately, I feel more at ease when I'm alone," I said, and he continued, "Me too." Just with that, I understood everything. How it was all the more painful because I loved him, how I blamed myself every time we drifted apart, and yet, how we couldn't find a place to return to.

I hadn't intended to cry, but tears fell.
He also had red eyes as he looked up at the sky.

We were two people who tried hard to become adults, but our love remained a bud that never bloomed. The flower didn't bloom, but the time we spent back then, looking only forward together, was true love.

Every time spring comes, I remember.
I think that, at least, will never change.