It was a day before Mirei's Birthday. Kaede's small apartment was buzzing with activity. Movers came and went, carrying boxes and furniture as Kaede directed them. One of the men approached her, wiping sweat off his brow.

  “Miss, we’re here to move the rest of your things.”

  Kaede offered a tired but polite smile. “Okay, please bring all of these packages. Thank you so much.”

  It was a busy, exhausting day. Moving wasn’t just physically demanding; it was emotionally draining. For Kaede, this move represented more than just a change of scenery—it was her attempt to rebuild herself, brick by brick, from the wreckage left behind.

  Yukina had come to help, as always. Her best friend since trainee days, Yukina had seen Kaede at her best and worst, and she wasn’t about to leave her alone now. As they hauled boxes into Kaede’s new apartment, Yukina’s worry finally spilled out.

  “Kaede…” Yukina began hesitantly, brushing her hair out of her face. “Are you really sure about this?”

  Kaede paused, her hands resting on a sealed box. “Of course. Why?” She smiled lightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “It’s just…” Yukina hesitated, then sighed, dropping the topic. Instead, she asked more pointedly, “Are you doing this to avoid Mirei?”

  Kaede didn’t answer immediately. She busied herself with opening a box, her fingers working methodically to peel back the tape. Then, without looking up, she replied softly, “Mmhmm.”

  Yukina’s sigh was heavy, tinged with frustration. “You know… are you sure you’re okay?”

  This time, Kaede froze. Her hands stilled, and she stared at the bare walls of her new apartment. The silence stretched before she finally spoke, her voice almost a whisper. “Honestly… no.”

  Yukina’s heart ached at the rawness in Kaede’s tone. She stayed quiet, letting her friend continue.

  “But what else should I do?” Kaede asked, her voice trembling. “She pushed me away. That day, when she blocked me…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I knew it. I knew it was her way of telling me to leave. Her st signal.”

  Kaede’s hands clenched into fists, her head bowed as she fought back tears. “So I’m doing what she wanted. I’m going away.”

  Yukina wanted to argue, to tell Kaede that she didn’t deserve this, but what could she say? Mirei had made her choice. And now Kaede was trying, in her own way, to move on.

  Yukina sighed, forcing a small smile as she pced a comforting hand on Kaede’s shoulder. “Well, you’re right about one thing. You can’t change what happened. But Kaede, promise me you’ll talk to me when it gets hard. Don’t keep it all in, okay?”

  Kaede turned to her, her lips trembling before she managed a grateful smile. “I will. Thank you, Yukina.”

  The moment passed, and Yukina decided to lighten the mood. She gnced at the mountain of unopened boxes and groaned dramatically. “Well, we’ve got our work cut out for us. You’d better treat me to something nice after this!”

  Kaede ughed, the sound warm and genuine for the first time that day. “You’re the first person I invited over. What more do you want?”

  Yukina ughed with her, and for a moment, the weight of Kaede’s heartbreak felt a little lighter.

  ---

  The next afternoon, Kaede’s phone buzzed with notifications. She groaned, reaching for it zily, only to be greeted by the reminder she had been dreading: Mirei’s birthday.

  Her thumb hovered over the screen. She was still part of the Celestial fan club, and the notifications hadn’t stopped since the clock struck midnight. A new one popped up, announcing a live-streamed birthday celebration for Mirei.

  Kaede stared at the notification, her emotions swirling. She had worked so hard to distance herself from Mirei’s world. She avoided social media, ignored news articles, anything that might show Mirei’s face or remind her of what she had lost. But despite her best efforts, she still missed Mirei every day.

  Her internal struggle was interrupted by Yukina’s voice. “Ahhh, should I watch it or not?” Yukina teased, peeking over Kaede’s shoulder.

  Startled, Kaede quickly hid her phone. “W-what are you talking about?” she stammered, her cheeks flushing.

  Yukina rolled her eyes. “Kaede, just watch it. You miss her, don’t you? It’s not like anyone will know. And besides, you must be curious about how she’s doing. They rarely do livestreams like this.”

  Kaede hesitated, staring at her phone. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she tapped the notification. The screen lit up, and the familiar sound of Celestial’s voices filled the room. Yukina smiled softly and left Kaede to watch in peace.

  The livestream was lively and cheerful, with the Celestial members ughing and chatting as they celebrated Mirei’s birthday. Mirei sat at the center, radiant as always, her smile lighting up the room. Kaede couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  “She looks happy,” Kaede thought, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “She’s okay. That’s… that’s good.”

  But then, the lively atmosphere took an unexpected turn. Mirei, encouraged by her members, leaned forward to take a bite of her birthday cake. Just as she did, Ayumi made a teasing comment that sent the entire group into ughter. Mirei, caught off guard, slipped in her chair, and the piece of cake lodged in her throat.

  The members panicked as Mirei began coughing violently. Minami was the first to react, rushing to Mirei’s side and patting her back. “Mirei, are you okay? Breathe!” she said urgently.

  Meanwhile, Emi and Hikari scrambled to reassure the viewers, their voices overpping. “It’s okay, everyone! Mirei’s fine, really!”

  The chaos settled after a tense moment, with Mirei finally catching her breath. Minami stayed close, handing her a gss of water and checking on her repeatedly. “You need to be more careful,” Minami scolded gently, her voice ced with concern. Mirei nodded sheepishly, her face red from both embarrassment and the ordeal.

  Kaede had been holding her breath the entire time, her heart pounding with worry. Seeing Mirei cough and struggle had sent a wave of panic through her, even though she knew it was irrational.

  As the livestream continued, Kaede’s eyes lingered on Minami. She watched the way Minami fussed over Mirei, how attentive and caring she was. A bittersweet ache settled in her chest.

  “Minami…” Kaede murmured to herself. “Thank you. Please… take care of Mirei from now on.”

  She closed her phone, the screen going dark as tears pricked her eyes. Mirei had moved on—or at least she seemed to. It was time for Kaede to do the same, no matter how much it hurt.