Pairing: Jo x Harua
Setting: High school → Years apart → One final reunion
Themes: Unspoken love | timing | fate's cruelty | irreversible loss
CW: suicide, grief, unresolved emotions (handled with care)

Requested by NZA_zawa11

🌤️ ACT I: Back Then

Jo had loved Harua since second year.

Not in the loud, movie kind of way.
More like: saving Harua's favorite seat in art class.
More like: memorizing the songs Harua hummed.
More like: keeping every note he ever passed him in a shoebox under his bed.

Harua never saw it—not until the end.

Not until Jo started looking away on purpose.

And even then, Harua only realized what he had when it was too late.

"We'll always have time," he said once.

Jo smiled.
Didn't believe it.

🛫 ACT II: The Goodbye That Wasn't

Harua left the country suddenly. Family move. No warning.

Jo found out on a rainy Wednesday.

He ran all the way to the airport.
Didn't make it in time.

No goodbye.
No confession.
Just the weight of what he never got to say.

For years, Jo wrote him letters. Never sent them.
He told himself: If fate brings him back, I'll tell him everything.

🕊️ ACT III: Years Later

It happened at a bookstore.

Jo, older. Softer. Still not over it.

Harua walked in. The same laugh. The same eyes. But not the same anymore.

His hand was linked with someone else's.

They made small talk. Smiled like old friends.
Jo didn't ask questions.

Harua didn't say anything either.

Maybe they both felt it.
Maybe they both ignored it.

When Jo walked away that day, he did it with the quiet realization:

"I waited. But the story already ended."

🖋️ ACT IV: Jo's Final Letter

It wasn't a cry for help.

It wasn't anger.

It was just... the last chapter.

A letter left behind, addressed only as:

"To the one I never stopped waiting for."

💌 Jo's Final Letter to Harua

(never delivered, but kept like a secret)

I don't know how to begin this without sounding like a goodbye.
Maybe it is. Maybe it always was.

I loved you.
Quietly. Stupidly.
In the way people write about but never say out loud.

I memorized the way you smiled when you thought no one noticed.
The way you doodled on the edges of your notebooks.
The way you always laughed before the punchline.

I kept everything you gave me—yes, even the dumb birthday card you pretended wasn't from you.

I wanted to tell you.
So many times.

But you were always going. Moving.
And I was always too scared you'd stay just long enough to leave again.

When you left without warning, it felt like someone turned the lights off in a room I'd been painting you into.

I waited.
Every year. Every season. Every time someone said "maybe he'll visit."
I clung to that word like a rope.

Maybe.

I didn't expect to see you again. And when I did...
You looked happy.

You didn't owe me anything.
But I guess I still wanted to believe you'd look at me and remember.

I'm sorry I didn't say anything.
I'm sorry I waited too long.
I'm sorry I loved you in silence.

Maybe in another life, we were brave.

Maybe I said it in time.
Maybe you stayed.

But this time... you didn't. And I never learned how to stop loving you."

Don't blame yourself. This ending was always mine to write."

And I hope in some other life, you loved me back in time.

Yours,
Jo

🌒 ACT V: After

Harua didn't cry at first.

He stared at the wall for a long time.
He pulled out a box from his closet—found an old note Jo had doodled stars on.

Then they came.

The memories.

The time Jo tied his shoelace for him.
The way he always carried two pens—just in case Harua forgot one.
The silent glances. The laugh.
The way Jo had looked at him like he was everything.

And Harua realized—

He had been everything.

And he never said it back.

💬 Final Line:

Jo's seat in the art room stayed empty.
Harua visited it once a year.

And every time the wind passed through the window,

He whispered:

"Maybe, if I'd turned around sooner... you'd still be here."

🕊️ Alternate Universe Epilogue: Strangers Again, Not This Time ( I'M SORRY BUT I COULDN'T LET IT BE A SAD ENDING )

Setting: A quiet café. Different city. Different time. Different lives.

Harua walks in with a book in hand. He's not late, just unsure what he's looking for.

Jo is behind the counter. Wearing an apron. Humming an unfamiliar melody.

Their eyes meet.

Nothing rushes back—no dramatic memories, no lightning spark.

Just a strange peace.

"First time here?" Jo asks, smiling.

"Yeah," Harua replies. "You look familiar."

Jo tilts his head.

"Maybe in a dream."

Harua chuckles.

He orders tea. They talk. About music. About art. About how strange it is to meet someone and feel like you're already remembering them.

As Harua stands to leave, Jo calls out—

"Wait."

Harua turns.

Jo hesitates for only a second.

"If I don't say this now, I'll regret it again."
"I really want to see you again. Would that be okay?"

Harua smiles.

"I was hoping you'd ask."

💬 Final Line:

In this life, Jo didn't wait.
In this life, Harua didn't leave too soon.

And maybe they didn't remember the last story—

But they were finally ready to write a new one.