The dim hospital room smelled of antiseptic and fresh linens, a sterile contrast to the frail woman lying on the bed. Her breathing was shallow, her body weak, yet her eyes remained warm as they gazed at the newborn cradled in her arms. Her hands trembled slightly, but she held him close, her lips curling into a weary yet serene smile.
"Takumi," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "Takumi Asahiro. You will shine… You will carve your own path… and one day, you will become the hope this world needs."
There was no father beside her, no proud man to hold her hand or share in the moment. He had left long before Takumi ever took his first breath, leaving only his last name behind.
Years passed, a wish that the world had never intended to fulfill.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm blared, piercing through the silence. Takumi groaned, forcing his eyes open. He reached out, slamming the button before sighing. "Why am I still alive?"
Shuffled into his tiny kitchen, reaching for an expired loaf of bread and spreading a thin layer of cheap margarine over it. The meal was dry, tasteless, barely food, but it was enough to keep his stomach from eating itself.
Leaving his small apartment to start the day, He glanced at his phone—no messages, no missed calls. Just the same notifications from job listings that he'd already applied to.
The sun barely showed itself, and the fluorescent lights in the convenience store buzzed faintly. "Asahiro, stock the shelves faster and mop the floor" the store owner barked—an old man scrolling through his phone while Takumi did all the work. "Yes, sir" Takumi replied.
By noon, Takumi was already drenched in sweat, wiping down tables at the ramen shop where he worked part-time. The lunch rush had been brutal, customers barely acknowledging him as he ran back and forth, taking orders. "Oi, Asahiro! clean up Table 3 too!" his manager barked.
The night streets were alive with laughter, the glow of neon signs reflecting off the wet pavement. A group of people his age passed, lost in their own world. Groups of friends clinked their drinks at outdoor tables, their voices blending into the hum of the city.
And then there was Takumi, he stood alone at the corner, gripping a signboard with both hands. "Special Pasta Set – Only tonight!" The letters glowed under the bright streetlights, but no one paid attention to him. He was just another part of the background—an invisible piece of the city's machinery.
Young couples walked past, hands entwined, lost in their own world. Their laughter mingled with the distant hum of the city, a sound so familiar yet so far from his own reality.
A small smile formed on Takumi's lips, but his eyes—his tired, hollow eyes—held a sorrow too deep to hide. The neon lights danced in his reflection, but they couldn't mask the emptiness beneath. Takumi watched the couple laughing together. His grip on the sign tightened. "That smile.." Takumi said.
The city blurred, He was at last day of school, everyone in the class so loud talk about their future plans,
"Hey, Takumi-chan. You're always so serious, huh?" she teased, resting her arms on his desk. "Do you even know how to have fun?" girl he like approach him smiling.
"Here," she said, pulling out her phone and opening Instagram. " "Here, follow me on Instagram," she said, smiling. "That way, we won't lose contact after graduation!"
He stared at her, surprised. Before he could say anything, she grinned and added, "I bet you don't even use Instagram, do you?"
Takumi felt the corners of his lips twitch into a rare smile. Without a word, he took out his phone and followed her. "youkey0325… This is your account, right? I followed you now" he said, his voice quieter than he intended.
She leaned in slightly, peeking at his phone screen with a mischievous grin. "Wow, so you do use Instagram! Don't be a stranger, okay? Talk to me sometimes."
Then, before he could say anything, the school bell rang, and she spun on her heel, dashing toward the door. "See you Takumi chan!"
"Yuki chan, I want to see you again." Takumi said. While continue to stand.
"Hey! Excuse me?" A sharp voice pulled him back to the present. Takumi blinked, his grip tightening the sign. In front of him stood a couple, their fingers intertwined, looking at him expectantly.
"This promo, is it only for takeout or dine-in too?" the man asked, pointing at the bold red letters on the sign Takumi had been holding for hours. Takumi swallowed the sigh creeping up his throat. "Both," he answered flatly. "Oh, nice!" The girl beamed, tugging at her boyfriend's sleeve. "Let's go in, babe!"
The man nodded, flashing Takumi a brief, indifferent thanks before walking into the restaurant—just another happy couple, lost in their own world.
By the time midnight, Takumi finally dragged himself back to his tiny apartment.
Slumping onto a creaky chair, he ripped open a cup of instant ramen, pouring in hot water and waiting as steam curled into the cold air. The silence of his empty room pressed against him.
As he ate, he flipped through his worn-out study notes. His tired eyes skimmed over the pages, the words blurring together. "The entrance exam… 3 months from now, huh?" He exhaled.
His mind drifted, searching for a distraction. Without thinking, he reached for his phone, tapping open Instagram.
Instagram notification: @youkey0325 posted a new photo. A picture of Yuki, smiling standing on a picture balcony with an ocean view. A luxury resort. Palm trees swayed behind her, and beside her—her boyfriend. Tall, well-dressed, effortless in his presence. His arm wrapped around her waist as if she belonged there.
"Happiest with you💖"
Takumi's chest tightened. His thumb over the screen, His vision blurred. The screen distorted in front of him, and before he even realized it—
Drip.
A single tear landed on the glass. Then another.
No words left his lips. No sobs shook his shoulders. Only the silent weight of everything he never had—everything he would never have—crushing down on him.
Whatever small hope had flickered in him was instantly crushed.
Takumi woke up, staring at the ceiling. Unmoving. The alarm rang beside him, but he didn't feel like getting up. Minutes passed before he finally forced himself out of bed, going through the motions of getting ready—not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
Work was meaningless. The store owner yelled, customers spoke, but their voices blurred together, distant and unimportant. He scanned items, took payments, and went through the day like a machine. By the time his shift ended, exhaustion clung to him, but not the kind sleep could fix.
Instant ramen sat on his desk, untouched. He wasn't hungry. He wasn't anything. But still, he picked up the chopsticks, forcing himself to eat.
Studying for the exam felt the same. His pen moved, notes filled the pages, but his brain was somewhere else. He wasn't studying to succeed—he was studying so he wouldn't fall apart.
Days blurred together.
Before he realized, days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months.
Each morning felt the same—waking up to the ceiling's cracks, the blaring alarm ringing in his ears, yet he remained still. Moving felt like a chore. Breathing felt like a chore. But the world didn't care. He had to force himself up, dress, work, eat, study, sleep. Repeat.
Another day had ended. Another piece of his life had slipped away, unnoticed, uncared for.
Exhausted after side jobs, Takumi walked alone under the pouring midnight rain. An umbrella rested in his grip, but he didn't open it. The cold water dripped down his face, mixing with silent tears. No one noticed. No one ever did.
"Tomorrow is the test," he murmured to himself, his voice lost in the sound of the rain.
A week after, the results were posted. A crowd had already formed, people pushing forward, scanning the long list of names. Takumi stood at the back, unmoving, as if the outcome didn't matter. Because to him, it didn't.
He already knew he had passed.
Still, his eyes drifted over the board.
And then—
Yuki Hanazawa.
His breath caught for a moment. She's here. A strange, empty feeling settled in his chest. As if something distant and unreachable had suddenly been brought right in front of him.
The one he tried so desperately to forget stood before him once more, as if fate itself refused to grant him peace.
Before he could process it, he saw her.
Just a few steps away, Yuki stood by the board, searching for her name. The moment she found it, her face lit up—that same radiant smile he had once admired from afar. The one he had replayed in his mind over and over again.
"We did it, Ari-chan!" She turned. And there he was.
Arisuke Kirishima.
Tall, confident, effortlessly perfect. He barely even glanced at the board before Yuki threw herself into his arms. His arms wrapped around her with ease, as if they belonged there.
Takumi felt something inside him crack.
Yuki laughed, eyes shining with joy. Tetsuya grinned, pulling her closer, his voice filled with warmth.
"Of course we passed. I told you, you had nothing to worry about."
Takumi's feels broken. This wasn't his world. It never had been.
He had passed the exam. But at that moment, it felt like he had lost everything.
His fate wasn't kind—it never had been.