My Childhood Friend, Sometimes a Schoolgirl—She Only Wears That Ribbon Around Me - Episode 1

I stopped pedaling and placed my foot on the ground when a large, familiar park caught my eye.

Bathed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun, the park seemed to gently pull me in.

“Yeah… it was around this time of year, wasn’t it?”

My memory drifted back to about eight years ago, when I was in third grade.

That day, in this very spot, I saw a girl crying.

In front of the pond, its surface glittering under the sunset, I could almost picture my younger self and her standing there.

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Sora-kun… I don’t… I really don’t…!”

She grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and begged me through a face soaked with tears.
But back then—I mean, even now—I couldn’t say anything to make her stay.

Her name was Yua Yushiro. Because of her parents, she was moving from here in Saitama to Tokyo.

Looking back, Saitama to Tokyo isn’t that far—just a short train ride.
But for us as kids, it felt like a whole different world. Somewhere far, far away.

I gently placed my hands on her trembling shoulders, crouched down to meet her eyes, and said,

“This isn’t goodbye. I’ll grow up, become stronger and cooler—and when I do, I’ll come for you. I promise!”

“Really? You’ll remember me… and come back for me?”

“Like I’d ever forget you. So when we meet again as adults—”

—Let’s get married.

Like waking up from a dream, the vision of our younger selves faded from the park before me.

Now that I think about it, maybe that was the most confident moment of my entire life.

There’s no way I could say something that cool now—I’d die of embarrassment. And besides, there’s no one I could say it to.

Now, I’m seventeen, a second-year in high school. Just a few more years, and I’ll be considered an adult.
And yet, I’m way less “manly” now than I was back in third grade.

I mean, what would I even say if I met Yua again? I don’t have her phone number or her social media. I don’t even know how to find her.

“Haah… I wonder what she’s doing now.”

She used to be shy, but around me, she was surprisingly cheerful.
Tiny, a crybaby—but her smile was the brightest in our class.
She’s probably grown up to be even more adorable now.

“The ‘future wife’ spot’s still open, you know…”

Not that a childhood promise really means anything.
She’s probably forgotten all about me.
And even if she remembers, there’s no way she still cares about that promise—or plans to keep it.

Honestly, even I haven’t taken it seriously for a long time.

It’s not like I’m single because I’m saving myself for her. I just… don’t have any luck with girls.

Where did I go wrong?

The confidence I had as a kid is long gone.
Now, I can’t even hold a proper conversation with a girl.

My name is Sora Tsuzuki, and I’ve become nothing more than a pathetic guy, clinging to the faded memories of his youth.