"Damn Nakamura!" Kazumi slammed his coffee cup down on the table with a sharp clack, the liquid inside sloshing dangerously near the brim.
Heads turned.
Across the cafe, a few customers looked up from their drinks and conversations, startled by the outburst.
The rain tapped gently on the windows behind them, a stark contrast to the storm brewing at their table.
"Calm down, Kazumi!" Keiko hissed, reaching out to still his hand.
Her eyes flicked around nervously as she offered a tight smile to the curious onlookers.
Next to her, Yuki stood up and gave a quick, polite bow to the other patrons.
"Sorry for the disturbance." she said softly, then slid back into her seat with a quiet sigh.
But Kazumi was far from done.
"It's just—during the beach trip, I specifically told him not to make her cry!" His voice, though now lower, still crackled with frustration. "And what did he do? He just tugged his lips. Like that damn smirk of his could explain everything!"
His eyes burned with raw emotion.
He wasn't just angry—he was hurt.
Furious that someone he'd begrudgingly accepted had betrayed the trust of someone he held dear.
"I want to punch him!" he muttered bitterly.
"I stepped back because I knew how much Ayaka cared about him. I thought—hell, I knew—he felt the same way. But this? Disappearing without a word? Leaving her like that? This is too much."
Yuki reached for her drink, her fingers calm and deliberate. "We understand, Kazumi." she said carefully, "But we can't jump to conclusions just yet."
Kazumi shot her a sharp glance, but she continued.
"Based on what Ayaka told us... things between them were fine. She said they were fine." Her brows drew together in thought. "Whatever happened, it wasn't something she saw coming."
Keiko nodded slowly, arms folded on the table. "She didn't even say they fought. It's like everything was normal—and then he vanished."
"That's what makes it worse." Kazumi snapped. "If they fought, if there was something clear-cut, then maybe we'd have something to work with. But this? This is like he just erased himself from her life overnight."
"We don't know the full picture." Keiko said gently. "There might be something deeper—something he didn't tell her."
"Or something he didn't want her to know." Yuki added. "But either way, we're not going to find the answers by tearing him apart behind his back."
Kazumi leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand through his damp hair.
The collar of his hoodie was soaked from earlier rain, clinging uncomfortably to his neck, but he didn't care.
"Well how the hell are we supposed to find answers then?" he growled. "The only person who can explain any of this is Dr. Nakamura himself—and he's gone. Just gone!"
Silence fell over the table for a moment, the tension thick in the air.
Keiko wrapped her hands around her mug and stared into the steam rising from her cappuccino. "Sometimes it feels like we imagined the whole thing..." she murmured. "Like we're all sharing some elaborate dream where he was there… and then we woke up, and he's not."
Yuki nodded. "It doesn't feel real. One day they're—" she hesitated, "—close. You could see it. He was gentle with her in his own way. She was beginning to let herself hope. And then…"
"He vanished." Kazumi finished for her, voice hoarse. "No phone calls. No explanation. Not even a goodbye."
They lapsed into silence again, each of them lost in their own spiraling thoughts.
Kazumi leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice quieter now. "There's gotta be someone who knows something. Someone close to him."
Keiko's eyes flicked toward him, something sparking behind them. "Someone who might know where he went... or why."
Yuki and Kazumi both turned to her, and suddenly, as if a light had been turned on, the same name came to all their minds.
They said it in unison.
"Dr. Hasegawa."
The red-haired doctor. Akihiko's colleague.
One of the few people who seemed to understand the enigma that was Dr. Nakamura.
Ayaka had mentioned him a few times—friendly, dramatic, maybe even a little over-the-top, but unmistakably loyal to Akihiko.
Yuki leaned forward, her expression sharpening. "Let us handle this one, Kazumi." she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Kazumi blinked. "What do you mean 'us'? What are you planning?"
Keiko exchanged a quick look with Yuki. "We'll talk to Dr. Hasegawa tomorrow."
"Why not now?" Kazumi asked, brows furrowed.
Yuki shook her head. "If we press him in the wrong way, he might lie to protect Akihiko. But if we approach him calmly—make it clear we're not out for blood—he might open up."
Keiko added, "If we explain how much she's suffering, he might realize silence is hurting her more."
Kazumi narrowed his eyes but eventually let out a reluctant sigh. "Fine. But I swear, if he says something shady, I will get involved."
Yuki chuckled lightly. "You'll be the first to know, I promise."
"Just bring me back something useful." Kazumi grumbled.
He scratched the back of his head, clearly still agitated. "I hate sitting still."
Keiko smiled at him, a touch of warmth in her eyes. "You've done more than enough, Kazumi. Ayaka knows that."
He didn't respond at first, just stared down at the table. "I still feel useless." he admitted. "I don't know how to help her anymore. She's pushing us all away."
"That's just her way of coping." Yuki said gently. "She's scared. And probably hoping that if she stays quiet, he'll come back. That maybe... it's all just temporary."
Kazumi's jaw clenched. "He doesn't deserve her."
"She's not ready to believe that yet." Keiko murmured. "And maybe, deep down, neither are we."
They sat quietly for a moment, the low hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the background.
Outside, the rain had eased into a gentle drizzle once again.
The cafe lights reflected softly in the puddles outside, casting golden ripples across the pavement.
"Right now..." Yuki said, "Our focus should be on Ayaka. Whatever happens with Akihiko, we need to make sure she knows she's not alone."
"Even if she won't let us in." Keiko added, "We can still be near. Message her even if she doesn't reply. Keep showing up."
Kazumi looked up at them, his expression steadier now, though the fire in his eyes hadn't completely died. "We make her feel loved." he said. "Remind her that she still has people—us. That she's not abandoned."
Yuki smiled softly. "Exactly."
Kazumi finally leaned back in his chair and exhaled, a long, weary breath escaping his chest. "Alright. I'm in."
"Agreed." Keiko said, lifting her cup in a quiet toast.
Kazumi and Yuki followed suit, raising their mugs in solemn unity.
The glasses clinked softly between them.
"To Ayaka." Yuki said.
"To make her smile again." Keiko added.
Kazumi nodded. "And to drag Nakamura's ass back here if we have to."
They all laughed softly—just for a moment, the weight on their shoulders lifted by shared purpose and friendship.
The rain outside may not have stopped, but inside that little cafe, something steady had formed: a quiet, burning promise to protect the heart that had once been so full of hope—and to not let her drown in silence.
Not now.
Not ever.
------
The next day, the hospital lobby buzzed with the usual stream of activity—nurses checking schedules, patients waiting for appointments, and the intercom announcing names over the soft murmur of conversation.
Keiko and Yuki stood near the reception desk, both slightly on edge.
Yuki kept glancing at the clock on the wall, while Keiko tapped her foot impatiently against the white tile floor.
"Excuse me." Keiko said politely to the receptionist, a woman in her early thirties with a tight bun and a kind smile. "Can you tell us when Dr. Hasegawa will be available?"
The receptionist tilted her head slightly. "Dr. Hasegawa? He should be finishing his rounds soon. Maybe in another twenty minutes or so. He usually exits through the east wing doors."
"Thank you." Yuki said with a bow, nudging Keiko to follow her toward the exit.
Now outside, the two waited just near the staff entrance of the hospital, standing under the shade of a tree as they scanned the doors every few seconds.
The sun was warm on their backs, and the faint scent of spring blossoms drifted from the garden nearby, but neither of them was in the mood to appreciate it.
They had only one goal.
To find answers.
For Ayaka.
Moments later, the doors swung open, and out came Dr. Toru Hasegawa—still in his white coat, his red hair slightly tousled, a file tucked under one arm.
He looked like he was in a hurry, eyes scanning ahead as if he didn't see them.
But he did.
He most certainly did.
"Dr. Hasegawa!" Keiko called out, quickly closing the distance between them.
Toru paused only for a second, long enough for them to approach, before letting out a weary sigh. "Not now. I'm busy." he said curtly, already turning away.
"Wait—please!" Yuki interjected, stepping in front of him. "We just want to ask something. It'll only take a minute."
Toru stopped. His lips pressed together as if holding back words, and then, surprisingly, he gave a small, charming smile.
"Here." he said, pulling a calling card from his coat pocket and handing it to Yuki. "Let's talk another time. I promise."
And with that, he swiftly moved past them, vanishing down the path like a man desperate to escape a conversation he wasn't ready to have.
Yuki stared at the card in her hand—a simple white business card embossed with his name, title, and contact number. She and Keiko exchanged looks.
"He's definitely avoiding us." Keiko muttered, arms crossed as she paced a few steps.
Yuki sighed, slipping the card into her pocket. "Obviously."
There was a brief silence between them as they stood at the edge of the parking lot, watching the spot where Toru had disappeared.
"But why?" Keiko said after a while. "Why go through so much trouble just to avoid us? It's not like we're asking for anything outrageous. We just want the truth."
Yuki nodded slowly. "Which means the truth must be something he really doesn't want to say."
"Something painful?" Keiko asked.
"Or something he promised not to tell." Yuki replied. "Either way, he's not ready to say it. Not unless we push harder."
Keiko folded her arms. "Then we'll push."