“The Space Between Goodbye and Beginning”

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Nobita had always feared goodbyes.

Especially ones that came with no promises of return.

The days after graduation passed in a strange, golden blur. The kind where everything felt like it could slip away if he blinked too hard.

Doraemon was quieter lately. He still smiled, still shared gadgets, still played along with Nobita’s jokes—but something hung in the air between them. A countdown Nobita didn’t want to see.

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“You’ve grown,” Doraemon said one evening, as they watched the stars from the roof.

Nobita leaned on his elbows. “I don’t feel like I have.”

“You have. You don’t need me anymore.”

“I still want you here,” Nobita replied, voice cracking. “Isn’t that enough?”

Doraemon reached over, gently patting his back. “You’re not alone. And you won’t be. I think… you’ve already found someone who understands you.”

Nobita didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

Doraemon smiled, eyes full of something bittersweet. “Dekisugi, right?”

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A Quiet Night With Dekisugi

They didn’t go anywhere fancy. Just Dekisugi’s room, both of them lying on the floor, a record playing faintly. Nobita had brought snacks, and Dekisugi was reading aloud from an article on philosophy—because he knew Nobita found his voice calming.

“You’ve been… distant,” Dekisugi said after a while.

Nobita closed his eyes. “I’m scared again.”

Dekisugi shifted closer. “Of what?”

“That everything good in my life is going to leave.”

Dekisugi didn’t answer right away. Then he reached for Nobita’s hand. “You’re allowed to be scared. But I’m still here. And I’ll keep being here.”

Nobita turned to face him, eyes glossy. “Even when I mess up?”

Dekisugi nodded. “Especially then.”

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Doraemon’s Departure

The day arrived with no fanfare. Just a quiet morning. A quiet room. A quiet hug.

“I’m proud of you, Nobita,” Doraemon said, eyes shining. “Really, truly proud.”

“I don’t know how to live without you,” Nobita whispered.

“You won’t have to. I’m a part of your story now. But it’s your turn to write the rest.”

As Doraemon stepped into the time portal, Nobita didn’t cry. Not yet.

He just stood there, feeling the weight of growing up crash gently around him.

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Later That Night

Dekisugi found him at the park, sitting on the swing set, knees pulled to his chest.

Nobita didn’t speak. Dekisugi didn’t push.

Instead, he sat beside him and quietly said, “Want me to stay the night?”

Nobita nodded.

At home, they curled up under the covers, fully clothed, just holding each other. Nobita finally cried—quiet, broken sobs—and Dekisugi held him through all of it.

In the dark, Dekisugi whispered, “You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

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College Begins

They didn’t go to the same college, but they stayed in the same city. Some days were harder. They were both busy. But they made time—for movie nights, ramen dinners, random texts about memories and feelings.

Their relationship wasn’t perfect. They argued sometimes. Nobita had bouts of self-doubt. Dekisugi struggled to express his emotions.

But they chose each other, again and again.

Every time.

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One Year Later

It was Nobita’s birthday. Dekisugi took him to a quiet hilltop overlooking the city lights. They’d gone there as kids. This time, they were older, steadier.

Dekisugi pulled out a small, handmade journal. “For you. I’ve been writing in it since last summer.”

Nobita opened it. Inside were pages and pages of letters. Letters Dekisugi had written to him. Some short. Some long. Some when he was angry. Others when he missed him.

At the end was a simple line:

“There are a thousand versions of you in my memories. I’ve loved every single one.”

Nobita looked up, tears streaming down his face.

Dekisugi leaned in, brushing them away.

And under the stars, their lips met again—this time not for the first time, but as a promise:

They were building something real.

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[To Be Continued?]

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