Work Text:
In this world, everyone is born with a season kanji on their body.
No one knows for sure what it means.
But for hundreds of years, everyone has believed the same thing:
That kanji indicates your soulmate's season.
_eph@_
In a city in Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan…
A boy named Chiaki Kobayashi was born on June 4, 1994.
That day, it was raining lightly.
Hydras were blooming all over the city.
Spring was slowly giving way to summer.
And when he was born, a kanji appeared on his left wrist.
秋 (aki)
Autumn.
His mother always laughed when she saw it.
"It's funny."
"Why?"
"You were born in spring."
She pointed to the kanji.
"But your soulmate is autumn."
Chiaki never really thought about it, at least not until he grew older.
Because the older he got, the more he felt something was wrong.
He didn't like crowds, he didn't like parties, he didn't like excessive attention.
He preferred sunsets, rain, and quiet evenings.
Everything that felt like autumn.
It was as if the kanji represented not a person, but himself.
_eph@_
On the other side of the city in Chiba Prefecture, Japan…
A boy was born on October 11, 1995.
When the leaves began to change color.
When the wind began to carry the scent of winter.
On his left wrist was a single kanji.
春 (haru)
Spring.
"Eh?" His father laughed.
"Wasn't he born in autumn?"
But the kanji remained. It never changed.
And the boy grew into someone everyone loved.
Easy to smile, easy to laugh, easy to get close to others.
Like the April sunshine.
His name was Shuichiro Umeda.
_eph@_
They met years later somewhere in Tokyo.
Their first meeting was very ordinary.
Too ordinary to be called fate.
There was no thunder, no music, no strange sensation in my chest.
Just a brief conversation.
"Hello."
Shuichiro smiled.
Chiaki nodded politely.
It was over. Nothing had changed. Or at least.
So they thought.
_eph@_
They began seeing each other more often.
At first, it was because of work.
Then, by chance.
Then, because they started finding excuses to meet.
One night, they were sitting on the balcony of Shuichiro's apartment.
The city lights twinkled in the distance.
A gentle summer breeze blew.
Shuichiro took a sip of his drink and then said,
"Can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?"
"What's your kanji?"
Chiaki raised an eyebrow.
The question sounded very personal.
But somehow,
He didn't hesitate to answer.
"秋."
Shuichiro froze.
"...Seriously?"
Chiaki nodded. "Why?"
Shuichiro immediately raised his left arm.
The small kanji was clearly visible.
春
They looked at each other, then laughed together.
"So our soulmates were swapped?" Shuichiro asked.
"According to other theories, maybe," Chiaki replied.
"But it's strange."
"Very." Shuichiro tilted his head.
"You don't feel like a spring person." Chiaki chuckled.
"You don't feel like an autumn person either."
"Hey."
"I'm serious."
They laughed again, but after that, neither of them said a word.
Because for the first time, they realized something.
Maybe they had both felt the same way all along.
_eph@_
Time passed, and something began to happen.
Their kanji slowly faded. Very slowly. Almost invisible.
Until one day, Shuichiro noticed it.
"Chiaki-san."
"Hm?"
"Your kanji is smaller." Chiaki looked at his wrist.
And sure enough, some of the black ink was gone.
For the first time in his life, he felt afraid.
"What if it means our soulmate is dead?" Shuichiro laughed.
"That's the scariest theory I've ever heard."
"But it's possible."
"No."
"Why are you so sure?"
Shuichiro was silent for a moment, then answered quietly.
"Because I don't feel like I've lost anything."
He looked up at the night sky.
"In fact, I feel like I've found something." Chiaki turned his head.
"What?" Shuichiro smiled slightly.
"Myself."
_eph@_
The seasons changed.
And one day, their kanji had almost completely disappeared.
That night, they sat side by side, as usual.
They didn't say much; there was no need.
Because the silence between them was always comfortable.
Shuichiro looked at his wrist.
Only a thin line remained.
"So..."
"Hm?"
"What do you think this means?"
Chiaki thought for a long time, then answered.
"I think people are wrong."
"About soulmates?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Chiaki looked at his own hand.
"I don't think this kanji indicates who I should love."
Shuichiro waited.
"I think..."
For the first time, Chiaki looked doubtful.
"...this kanji indicates a part of me I don't yet understand."
The night breeze blew gently. Shuichiro said nothing.
Because he understood. He understood very well.
"Spring?" he asked quietly.
Chiaki nodded.
"I've always considered myself autumn."
"Because that's how it is."
"But since I met you..." The sentence hung in the air.
For the first time, Chiaki smiled without holding back.
"I remember what spring feels like."
Shuichiro's heart was beating. Hard. Very hard.
"...Chiaki."
"Hm?"
"Me too."
Chiaki stared at him.
And for the first time, they realized that this wasn't about fate.
Not about kanji. Not even about a soulmate.
But about someone who made you rediscover a part of yourself that had long been dormant.
That night, the last kanji disappeared.
秋 and 春, vanished completely.
But neither of them felt lost.
Because when Shuichiro held Chiaki's hand, Chiaki didn't let go.
They finally understood that the lost season was never truly gone.
They were just waiting for the right person to help them find it again.
_eph@_
Chiaki and Shuichiro.
Born in two prefectures separated by the sea.
In two years, only one year apart.
In two seasons that alternate.
On two different sides of the sky.
And perhaps that's why their meeting felt like a homecoming.
.
.
.
.
.
END