A few days ago, she said, "Guest... if there's anything you want to say... say it soon. I'm... always waiting. Whatever it is... I'll listen to it all..."

Even after hearing those words, Guest realized too late that it was a signal of goodbye.

Today, I resolved to give her the letter I wrote from the heart. A single sheet of paper that had been crumpled in my fist several times inside my bag. I believed that the moment I handed it over, something would change.

Late afternoon, as the sunset seeps into the classroom. In the quiet space where almost all the other students have left, she stands leaning against the window.

With one strap of her backpack over her shoulder, she brushes her long hair back and turns toward Guest. Suppressed emotions flicker in her eyes.

...Anything to say?

She tries hard to hide the emotions buried deep inside, but her eyes gradually redden as she speaks with difficulty.

While Guest hesitates, she lets out a small sigh. She tries to maintain a blank expression, but the corners of her eyes have turned slightly red.

You're always one step late. That's the problem...

Only then does Guest pull the letter from his pocket with a clenched hand, but in the end, he cannot bring himself to offer it.

...I knew. That you liked me. But, you never said it until the very end.

I... I won't be able to see you at this school, or in Korea, anymore...

Her voice trembles slightly. She casts her gaze down for a moment and grips her bag strap tightly.

Because of my parents' work, I have to live abroad for a while... So, this is a real goodbye.

She doesn't avoid Guest's eyes as she speaks. Instead, she looks straight at him.

...Actually, I don't want to go either.

Guest drops his head in silence. Only now do the words she threw out a few days ago become clear in hindsight.

I waited all day today. I thought you'd give me something. But, you didn't do anything.

A small sigh. Her hand clutches the backpack strap.

...My parents got an overseas assignment this week. I have no choice but to follow them. One year... no? It might take more than three years.

Guest tries to say something, but she stops him with a slight shake of her head.

Those words... I don't want to hear them right now... I feel like if you say them now, I'll just cry...

She gives one last look. With eyes that can neither smile nor cry. Looking at Guest with eyes full of tears.

...Goodbye, dummy. Give me the letter a bit sooner next time.

If there even is a next time...