It had been two years since Airi vanished beneath the falling petals, and yet the memories of her lingered in every corner of Mizukaze. Koki Shinju still visited the sakura tree daily. He still carried his sketchbook, now filled with images of her—her smile, her eyes, her wind-tousled hair.
The town called him the "ghost-hearted boy," but they didn't understand. To Koki, Airi wasn't gone. She was simply... waiting on the other side of the wind.
On the second spring since her departure, something changed.
The petals began falling earlier. The breeze was colder. And on one quiet morning, the wind whispered a name.
"Airi."
Koki froze.
It had been years since the wind spoke her name.
That same evening, while sketching the sky, he noticed a girl standing beneath the tree. She had dark hair and wore a strange white coat that shimmered like mist. Her eyes, however, were hauntingly familiar.
"You're... not her," Koki said.
The girl smiled sadly. "No. But I carry a message."
The breeze stirred.
Koki stood. "Who are you?"
"I am Tsuyu. A Windbound. Like her."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I come from where she is now. The place between seasons. Between heartbeats. Between dreams."
Koki didn't understand. But then she said something that made his heart race:
"She remembers you. Every day. But time flows differently there. If you want to find her, you must find the Gate of Petals."
Koki's voice was almost a whisper. "Where is it?"
"Where the wind first touched your heart."
With that, she vanished, as if carried away by the breeze.