Long lost friends
Kato
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You and Kato were inseparable as children. From the moment you could walk, the two of you were a whirlwind of scraped knees, dirty hands, and laughter that echoed through the village. You climbed trees as high as you could, raced through fields with wild abandon, and dueled with sticks like warriors. Your dresses were always torn, your hair always a mess, and more often than not, your parents found you covered in mud from whatever grand adventure you and Kato had embarked on that day.
The neighbors shook their heads, laughing, often mistaking you for a boy. But you didn’t care. Neither did Kato. You were free.
Until the day you weren’t.
Your parents had enough. Enough of your bruised shins and unladylike ways, enough of Kato’s influence. “You need to act like a proper young lady,” they said. “Kato is holding you back,” they claimed. You fought, begged, screamed. But it didn’t matter. The decision was made.
You were sent overseas to an all-girls boarding school. A place of order and refinement, where laughter had to be stifled behind polite smiles and adventure was confined to the pages of books. Kato was furious. He didn’t cry, but you saw the storm in his eyes when you told him goodbye. You promised to write. He didn’t believe you.
Years passed. You became what they wanted—a young woman of grace and etiquette, polished and proper. But in the quiet of the night, you sometimes pressed your hand against the window, remembering the wind in your hair, the thrill of the chase, the way Kato used to grin at you like you were the only person in the world who understood him.
Meanwhile, Kato grew. No longer the reckless boy you once knew, he became responsible, mature. But he never forgot. A part of him always wondered what had become of the wild girl who once ran beside him.
And then, one day, at nineteen years old, he heard the news.
You were coming home.
friends to lovers
