Rewrite Our Love? Too Late
Chapter 160: Slope of Fate

Chapter 160: Slope of Fate

From the crest of the hill, the world looked painted in soft watercolors.

Yukima Azuma stood quietly, hand in hand with Kato Megumi. The two of them gazed down the gently sloping street below, the late morning sun casting golden light over rooftops and fluttering trees. From above, the view was breathtaking—not just picturesque, but imbued with memory and meaning.

Azuma’s eyes landed on a particular spot, halfway down the slope, just before the curve in the road. It was a seemingly ordinary corner, yet it held something special—something only he and Megumi truly understood.

"There," he murmured, pointing subtly. "That’s where I stood that day during spring break... right under that cherry blossom tree."

Behind them, a quiet breeze stirred the branches. The petals overhead trembled.

Megumi turned her gaze to the same spot. "It’s beautiful," she said, her voice carrying the warmth of nostalgia. "And back then, the wind blew just right. Remember?"

Azuma nodded.

"When the wind gusted through, it was like... cherry blossom rain."

The slope they stood on was far from perfect—uneven pavement, tiny cracks spidering across the stone, and scattered tufts of grass breaking through the edges. It was the kind of street that had seen decades of quiet footsteps and gentle change. Azuma chuckled softly to himself.

"You know, I still wonder about the odds of it..." he said.

"Hm?"

"A white beret... rolling all the way down that uneven slope, landing right at my feet at the corner." He tilted his head, recalling the memory.

Megumi smiled, eyes sparkling. "You didn’t just pick it up. You helped me put it back on, remember?"

"That’s right," Azuma said. "I guess that was the beginning."

"A rare event," Megumi murmured. "But maybe... it was meant to happen."

Azuma turned to look at her, catching the soft curve of her lips, the gentleness in her eyes.

"For me," Megumi said, her voice a little quieter now, "the day you transferred here really was a fateful meeting."

Azuma’s heart skipped a beat. A breeze tugged at his jacket, but he barely noticed. The moment shimmered like sunlight on glass.

They stood there for a while longer, bathed in the hush of late morning and the lingering scent of spring blossoms. Eventually, hand in hand, they turned and continued down the slope, walking in step with one another.

Kato Megumi’s house sat nestled on a quiet street corner, its simple elegance reflecting the understated nature of the girl who lived there. When they arrived, Azuma paused by the gate.

"Are your parents home?" he asked, slinging his backpack off his shoulder.

Megumi glanced over with a playful look. "Nope. They’re at work. Don’t worry, Azuma-san—nobody’s home."

Azuma breathed a quiet sigh of relief and zipped his bag shut again. He had packed carefully for this visit: a few thoughtful gifts tucked inside—canned tea, a delicate bottle of plum wine, and a small box of tasteful jewelry. Even the rose he’d "magically conjured" earlier had come from this bag, prepped in advance by none other than Miyamizu Mitsuha, who’d insisted he be prepared.

Well... looks like the "meeting the parents" moment could wait for another day.

Megumi unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling Azuma in behind her. From the entryway, she retrieved a fresh pair of indoor slippers—brand new, still uncreased—and offered them with both hands.

"These are for you."

Azuma slipped them on, following her through the hallway into the living room. It was clean, comfortable, with warm lighting and neatly arranged furniture. There was no one else in sight.

"Sit here. I’ll go make us some tea," Megumi said.

He nodded, sitting down as she disappeared into the kitchen. While he waited, Azuma let his eyes wander around the room, taking in the subtle details that whispered of the family who lived here.

Just then, a question surfaced in his mind. "Megumi," he called out, "what about your sister? Isn’t she on break too?"

Megumi emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing two ceramic cups on a small tray. She smiled as she handed one to him.

"She had a class reunion today. Left yesterday evening and said she wouldn’t be back until late tonight."

Azuma nodded, then took a sip. "So... we’re really alone."

"Don’t get any strange ideas," she said, smirking as she turned to head back toward the kitchen. "I’m going to bake cookies."

Azuma raised an eyebrow. "Right now?"

"I was going to do it yesterday," she said, shooting him a look, "but someone made trouble."

Azuma chuckled, remembering how she had stopped by Toyogasaki to retrieve her forgotten cookbook. She’d left it in her desk drawer, having flipped through it during a free period.

"I feel kind of guilty. Want me to help as an apology?"

Megumi didn’t even turn around. "No way. You’ll just get in the way. Sit there like a good boy."

Unbeknownst to them, the hallway wasn’t as empty as they believed.

A narrow door just beyond the corner cracked open a sliver. A single eye peered out through the gap.

Kato Hiromi.

She had originally planned to attend her university class reunion—everyone was getting together before graduation—but things hadn’t gone according to plan.

Megumi hadn’t come home the night before. That, in itself, had been strange. Megumi always came home. And normally, Megumi would wake her up in the morning for breakfast. This morning, though, there had been silence.

Hiromi had overslept. By the time she awoke, it was already nearly noon.

So much for the reunion.

But what caught her attention more was the conversation echoing down the hallway.

Azuma-san... tea... cookies... sit here...

Her expression froze.

She leaned forward.

Her little sister had brought a boy home?

Not just any boy—but from the sound of their conversation, a boy Megumi was clearly close with.

Megumi had always been the cautious type. Hiromi had never even heard her sister mention boys before, let alone bring one to the house.

And yet... the way she spoke to him, her tone light and unguarded, full of warmth and ease—it was too natural. Too relaxed.

It wasn’t how Megumi spoke to classmates. It wasn’t even how she talked to her own sister.

It was how couples spoke. Long-time, comfortable, deeply affectionate couples.

Hiromi, curiosity piqued and embarrassment mounting, tiptoed back from the door and sighed.

She should leave. Really, she should.

But when she glanced at the window, her plan to sneak out hit a wall—literally. A burglar-proof mesh covered the frame. Too narrow for an adult.

She slumped onto her bed, stomach growling.

She had been planning a big meal after the reunion and had barely eaten. Now, the scent of warm sugar drifted through the hallway. Fresh cookies.

Cruel.

Her belly rumbled again.

I can’t take this...

She tiptoed back to the door, cracking it open just enough to sneak a peek—

And finally saw him.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Lean. Handsome in a way that magazines would envy. Black shorts. White T-shirt. Sharp, defined facial features. His very presence stood out.

For a moment, Hiromi thought her sister had hired a male host.

But no—Megumi wasn’t the type.

Besides, the boy had a sincerity to him.

Her suspicion collapsed in the face of reality: Megumi had brought her boyfriend home.

And then—

"Done! Try it!" Megumi’s voice chirped.

"Pocky?" he asked.

"Umu, you gave me a box last time, so I wanted to try making it myself."

Hiromi’s eyes widened as she peeked again.

Megumi leaned in, nibbling one end of the stick.

The boy didn’t hesitate. He bit the other end.

No way!

The biscuit vanished between them as the distance closed... and then, finally—lips met lips.

Hiromi pulled her head back like it had been burned.

"They’re kissing...!"

But curiosity got the better of her.

She peeked again.

Still kissing?

She looked. Waited. Thirty seconds.

Still kissing?!

Her face flushed crimson.

This wasn’t Pocky. This was... something else.

Forty seconds passed.

Hiromi peeked one last time.

They were walking hand-in-hand up the stairs now, Megumi gently leading Azuma to her room.

Hiromi exhaled in defeat, grabbing two leftover Pocky sticks from the kitchen and chewing them in frustration.

"Three seconds. That’s all I needed!"

She slipped out the door like a thief, praying they hadn’t noticed her escape.

Upstairs, in the warm quiet of Megumi’s bedroom, Azuma stepped inside and blinked.

It was exactly what he expected.

Soft colors. Tidy furniture. A faint floral scent.

"Just as I imagined. Very... you."

"It’s ordinary," Megumi said with a shy laugh. "I’m just a normal girl."

"But there are details that are uniquely you. Like the way the books are arranged, or the photo frame by your lamp."

Megumi’s cheeks turned pink.

"Only someone who really pays attention would notice those things."

She sat on the bed and patted the space beside her.

Azuma hesitated—but only for a second.

He sat.

And then, without another word, Megumi gently pulled him down beside her.

The soft warmth of the room wrapped around them.

She kissed him—slowly, sincerely.

Clothes rustled as time passed.

Near the desk, tucked in a pencil holder, a small yellow bamboo card caught the sunlight.

It read:

Relationship Fortune: Great Blessing.

"Day and night, thinking of it, with a jewel in hand; hearts and minds in mutual understanding—wisdom leads to destiny."

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