Shiro ran as fast as he could to the address left on the back of Keiko’s journal. It wasn’t that far from their old elementary school. He was sure he could make it on foot.
There was hardly anyone on the street, so he ran the lights, not waiting for the crosswalk. He dodged a man on a motorcycle as he ran to the sidewalk.
“Sorry!” he yell though the man had already disappeared into the night.
Shiro looked around for the house. The street wasn’t very well lit. He turned on his phone flashlight and hid the incoming messages from Kenshin.
Kenshin: hey, pick up. Let’s talk. Is this about that girl? Don’t do anything crazy.
He felt bad, but he didn’t have time to explain. Kenshin would understand once he knew the details. It was all a misunderstanding. He had it wrong all along. Keiko never broke her promise. Keiko always had faith in him. She valued their friendship. He was the one that lost faith. He was the one who broke their promise. He could’ve asked for her address. He could’ve reached out. But he didn’t. He didn’t have faith in her.
“I see you Keiko. I hear you now.” He said.
The lights were still on by the time she reached her house. He looked at the clock.
11:45pm
It was late, but this couldn’t wait. Not anymore.
He knocked on the door, bracing for what was sure to be an awkward encounter.
“Yeah, who are you?”
A man with light brown hair and tired eyes opened the door. The man he recognized as Hana’s homeroom teacher.
“Did you need something kid?” He asked
Shiro wasn’t sure what to say.
So, it’s true. He and Keiko are…living together.
Shiro rubbed the back of his head, his resolve fading.
“Um…”
“Are you Kei’s friend?” he opened the door pointing behind him.
“She’s in there if you want to talk to her.” He said, making his way back to the living room without even waiting for Shiro to say a word.
Shiro reluctantly stepped into the house. He can hear a tv in the living room playing some rom-com.
He slowly makes his way to the door, turning to look at the man who had just let a stranger into his room. He had a stack of papers lay out on the table.
This is the guy Keiko is with. He still couldn’t believe it. He paused midway to the doorway.
Do I really want to be involved with this?
He held the package he brought with him to his chest. The gift he brought her.
Then he remembered. The little girl who made him promise to follow his dreams. The one who wrote him a letter every day for years. The one who lost a tooth, taking a punch from a boy twice her size, just to get his glasses back when they were children.
I’ll support you, Keiko.
He made his way to her door, opening it without knocking.
"I’m on your si — "
He cut himself off when he stopped breathing. There behind the door was Keiko, laying in the tub…completely naked.
“Get out of here, you pervert!” she yelled
Shiro closed the door behind him, waiting for the repercussions.
The man who had been grading papers on the couch came to see what the commotion was about.
“Sosuke, you idiot. Why are you letting men into the bathroom when I’m naked?” Keiko said before opening the door.
“How was I supposed to know you were naked?” He said, scratching his cheek.
Both Shiro and Sosuke flinch when the door flies open.
“It’s the bathroom, you moron!” she says, throwing her slipper at the man’s head.
“Stupid brother, you’re so stupid!”
“Brother?” Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. “So, you two are siblings?”
Sosuke and Keiko turn to face him, Keiko still holding the collar to her brother’s shirt.
“Well yeah. Who did you think he was?”
“I-I don’t know,” he lied. “Y-your boyfriend…maybe”
“WHHAAAT?!” they both yell, clearly disgusted.
Keiko put both hands on the wall. “With him…gag…my reputation is ruined.”
“Your reputation wasn’t very good to start with.”
Shiro listened to them bicker like children. He and Saito didn’t get along half the time. There was a time in their lives where they fought like cats and dogs, too.
“HAHAHAHA.. HAHA” he laughed out loud. He couldn’t stop himself. He kept laughing as they stood there staring at him.
“Haha…sorry…it’s just that..you haven’t changed at all,”
“You got some nerve coming here, you jerk!” Keiko turned her aggression toward him and he threw his hand up in surrender.
“Uh sis? Don’t you think you should put some clothes on first?”
Sosuke pointed at the girl’s body, barely covered in a towel.
Her face turned red, and she hurried to her bedroom.
“I’ll wait for you on the porch!” Shiro yelled after the girl, who grumbled something unintelligible before closing the door behind her.
She picked whatever clothes she could find. Some jean shorts and a sweater were at the top of the laundry she had yet to fold. She threw them on and ran to the door. Shooting her brother a dirty look before stepping out.
“So, you’re still here after all.” She said drying of her hair with a towel.
“I’m here.”
They stood awkwardly quiet for a few minutes. She wasn’t sure what to say or what he came to tell her.
“Kei…” he hesitated.
He bowed his head, pushing a package toward her. “Happy birthday,” he said, not looking her in the eye.
“My birthday was weeks ago.” She took the package and untied the white ribbon. Tearing open the brown wrapping paper.
She could see the purple journal peeking through.
“How did—”
“Keep looking.”
She tore through the rest of the packaging, revealing a batter blue notebook underneath.
“This is…”
“It’s the story we wrote together.”
She flipped through the pages, looking at her old drawings and Shiro’s handwriting.
“Was your handwriting always so terrible?” She snorted.
“Theres more,”
She searched through the wrapping paper. There, hidden between the crumpled paper, was a folded sheet of paper.
She glanced up at Shiro before looking back down at the letter.
She opened the note and read the scribbly handwriting:
Dear Keiko,
It’s been a while, huh? Sorry I missed your letters. High school has been a little crazy. I looked for you on the first day, but I couldn’t find you. I joined the writers’ club for a couple of years and it was fun, but the club president made it unbearable. I’m in a paint club now, it’s ok. Not really my thing, you were always more of the artist than I was. I have an idea. Why don’t we make an art club together?
“Art club?” She questioned.
She lowered her hands to look at Shiro. His hand was extended toward her. She took his hand, and they shook on it.
“It’s a promise.” They said in unison.
I promise…
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