The waiting game was a test of patience, stretching on day after day. The anxiety became a constant companion, a low hum beneath the surface of school life. Every mail delivery felt like a moment of truth, holding the power to shape our individual futures and, potentially, the future of us.
Sakura and I rarely talked about the acceptance letters directly, as if speaking about them might jinx the outcomes or bring the looming uncertainty into sharper focus. But the unspoken tension was always there, a shared weight we carried together.
One afternoon, as I was walking home from school alone (Sakura had a late Student Council meeting), I saw the mailman near my apartment building. My heart gave its usual anxious pound. I rushed up the stairs to my mailbox.
There was a letter.
Not from a local sender. It had the official seal of a university. One of the universities I had applied to.
My hands trembled as I pulled it out. This was it. The first answer. My first glimpse into the future.
I stood there in the hallway, just staring at the envelope for a long moment. What did it say? Acceptance? Rejection? What did it mean for my path? What did it mean compared to Sakura's path?
I thought about Sakura, about her Todai application, about her family's expectations. My results felt small compared to the weight of her world.
Hesitantly, I opened the envelope. Pulled out the letter. Unfolded it.
My eyes scanned the words. "We are pleased to inform you..."
Acceptance.
I got in. The first university I heard back from accepted me into their literature program.
A wave of relief washed over me, immediately followed by a complex mix of emotions. Happiness and pride, yes. But also... uncertainty. This was a path. But was it the path? Was it a path that could coexist with Sakura's path, wherever hers led?
I wanted to tell Sakura immediately. Share the news. But she was in her meeting. And I suddenly felt a surge of the insecurities I had thought we had overcome. This university, this program... it wasn't Todai. It wasn't the kind of prestigious future expected in her world. Would this news widen the gap between us?
I walked into my apartment, the acceptance letter feeling heavy in my hand. My parents were happy when I told them, offering congratulations and proud smiles. Their uncomplicated happiness was a stark contrast to the complex thoughts swirling in my head.
Later that evening, Sakura messaged me.
Sakura: Hey, finished with my meeting! 😊 How was your afternoon? Get any mail? 😉 (That winking emoji!)
She was asking. Directly.
Me: Yeah. Got mail. From a university. Sakura: Oh! Which one?! What did it say?! (Her replies were instant, full of nervous energy). Me: [University Name]. I got in. Accepted. Sakura: 🎉🥳🎊 OMG, Hiroshi! That's amazing news! Congratulations! That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you! 😊😊😊
Her excitement was immediate and genuine. It flowed through the messages, bright and warm. She didn't ask which university it was, not at first. She simply reacted with pure happiness for me.
Sakura: Which university was it?! Tell me everything!
I hesitated for a split second. Then, I typed the name.
Me: [University Name] Sakura: Oh! Okay! 😊 That's... that's great, Hiroshi! A good program, right? For literature?
Her tone remained cheerful, supportive. There was no hint of disappointment, no subtle judgment. She was simply being supportive, just as she promised we would be for each other.
Me: Yeah, it seems like a good program. Sakura: That's wonderful! See? I told you you'd figure out your path! 💪 You're amazing, Hiroshi!
Her unwavering belief in me, her genuine happiness for my success, helped chip away at my insecurities. She wasn't comparing my path to hers; she was celebrating my achievement, on my path.
Me: Thanks, Sakura. 😊 It means a lot.
Sakura: ❤️ It does! We should celebrate! 😊
We didn't talk about the specifics of the university, its ranking compared to Todai, or what it might mean for the distance between us. Not yet. That conversation, the complex one about our diverging paths, was still ahead.
But in that moment, sharing my news with her through messages, receiving her pure, unfiltered happiness and support, felt incredibly real. My first step towards the future had been taken, and her reaction showed that our connection was strong enough to celebrate each other's individual successes, regardless of how different those successes might be.
The first letter was a victory, a confirmation of a path. But the letters that would truly define the future of us were still in the mail. The waiting game, and the test it represented for our unexpected love, was far from over.