SKIES AND DISTANCE - II

Day by day, time continued to slip quietly past. Before she realized it, checking Heri’s I*******m Stories had become one of Sakura’s most anticipated routines. She even began asking herself—why was she so drawn to his posts? Why did her heart skip when his updates appeared on X or a new photo showed up on his feed?

And yet... she had never once dared to send him a message.

Winter had begun to creep in. The air grew colder, and shop windows were slowly dressed in Christmas ornaments. But still, Sakura never liked or commented on anything he posted.

Until one day—perhaps out of nowhere—an impulse stirred in her. She decided to post a Story of her own. Standing on the sidewalk in Shibuya, a paper cup of coffee in her hand, Sakura lifted her phone. Her fingers trembled slightly as she framed the shot.

“Maybe... maybe he’ll see it,” she whispered to herself.

A few seconds later, she uploaded it. Simple. Just her hand holding the coffee cup, with Shibuya’s crowd blurred in the background. But behind that casual image, a small hope was quietly tucked away.

Sakura let out a soft laugh—half amused, half embarrassed.

“Sakura…” she muttered to herself.

“Not long ago, you were still hurting. Left behind like nothing.”

Old memories stirred—of a man who once spoke sweet promises of a future, only to reveal he was interested in nothing more than her body. After a few dates, and a short-lived relationship, he vanished—leaving behind wounds that had barely begun to heal.

“Why are you hoping again? You’re such an idiot.”

Yet her feet kept walking, her thoughts adrift.

By the time she noticed, she had already reached Yoyogi. The chaos in her head had led her that far without realizing it.

She sat down on a quiet park bench, accompanied by the cold dusk and the distant call of crows. Hesitantly, she opened I*******m again and checked the viewers on her Story.

Her heart tightened.

Nothing.

Heri’s name wasn’t there.

Sakura exhaled slowly. It was as if reality had gently tapped her on the shoulder.

She looked down... and opened the viewer list once more.

And there it was.

“@heri_sky”

Sakura froze. Her eyes widened.

A tiny smile began to bloom across her lips.

“Wait… seriously? He saw it?”

Warmth spread through her chest. Before she could fully process the feeling, another notification popped up.

Heri had posted a new Story.

Reflexively, she opened it.

“Docking at Jakarta after a short trip from Singapore. Merak 815, Boeing 777-200LR, PK-MXE... Next one in a few days: Tokyo Narita.”

Tokyo.

Heri is coming back. But this time to Narita—not Haneda like before.

Sakura’s fingers trembled. She wanted to ask. To speak. To welcome him. But hesitation clouded her. Fear. Doubt. Everything tangled inside her.

And yet… her boldness won.

She quickly typed, “Heri-san, when will you be in Tokyo? Do you remember my promise?

Let’s have dinner. I’d like to keep my word.”

Then… she hit the send button.

Sakura stand up.

She begins walking back toward her apartment.

It doesn't matter whether he will reply or not.

There was a strange sense of relief—paired with a pounding nervousness she couldn’t quite explain.

After that long walk—a journey she realized had started just to “buy a cup of coffee” and ended in emotional chaos—she finally reached her room. Tired. Confused. And… a little embarrassed.

“I really walked this far… and overthought everything?”

She laughed bitterly at herself and—despite the nerves—picked up her phone.

A notification.

Heri had replied.

“I’ll be in Tokyo on the 17th and 18th. Sure. Still staying at the same hotel as last time. Where should we meet? But on the 17th I’ll only be free after 8 PM—I will land in the late afternoon.”

Sakura froze. She nearly dropped her phone.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes welled with tears—an overwhelming cocktail of disbelief and joy. With trembling hands and an uncontrollable smile, she typed back:

“No problem! Leave the restaurant and meeting spot to me! Otsukaresamadeshita! (Thank you for your hard work today.)”

Sakura smiled like a child who had just been handed her favorite toy.

“It’s been so long… since I felt like this,” she thought.

The 17th. Only a week away. Her mind was already racing—What restaurant should I pick near Shiodome? What should I wear?

That day, once gray and dull, slowly began to change color.

From grey to orange.

From quiet to full of hope.

***

“Haha… she actually remembered,”

Heri chuckled, leaning back on the sofa in his home. It was late afternoon—he had just returned from another flight and was finally enjoying some rest.

He moved his fingers over the phone screen, slowly typing:

“By the way, last time we met… you got home safely, right?”

He had hesitated to ask. Too much time had passed, and it might have felt awkward to bring it up. But it also seemed strange to meet again without acknowledging it somehow.

Moments later, a reply arrived.

“Of course! But I’m really grateful… I don’t know what would’ve happened that night if you hadn’t been there.”

Heri smiled softly at the message. He began typing again.

“Aaah… I guess it was just the right thing to do.”

“By the way, it’s getting colder in Tokyo, isn’t it?”

Sakura responded almost instantly, as if she’d been waiting for the conversation.

“Yes! The cold’s really setting in. Heri-san, you will be coming to Tokyo, right? Don’t forget to dress warmly! Does Jakarta have UNIQLO store? Their Heattech stuff really helps! If not, I can help you buy some here—it’ll be useful for your work too!”

Heri let out a small laugh—touched by the thoughtfulness.

“We have UNIQLO here too, haha. I’ve got Heattech and their windproof jackets. Don’t worry, I’ll wear them.”

What began as a light exchange quickly turned into something more.

From weather and winter clothes, from one topic to another, their messages flowed into small stories—moments that, somehow, felt easy to share.

They replied without awkward pauses.

As if time didn’t matter.

As if language wasn't a barrier.And somehow, two people from completely different worlds—different languages, cultures, lives—could talk without feeling like strangers.

Without even realizing it, they began to open up. And maybe… just maybe… They were beginning to connect.

***