[Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial fan work. All rights to Anohana and its characters belong to their respective creators. This story is written purely out of admiration and for creative exploration.
This is a tribute one-shot inspired by Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day.
Part 2 of the Anohana one-shot. If you haven't read Part 1 yet, go check it out first. This continuation gives our beloved characters the closure they never had—and finally, a future with Menma.
Let's begin, shall we?]
The next day, everything felt strange—brighter somehow. The air was lighter, and the warmth of the sun didn't feel so heavy. Menma didn't disappear.
They couldn't believe it at first. Her presence lingered like a dream refusing to fade. But when they met again that afternoon, all of them—Jintan, Anaru, Poppo, Tsuruko, Yukiatsu—they saw her. Clear as day. Laughing. Smiling. Crying.
Menma was still here.
They gathered at their usual meeting spot, too stunned to speak at first. But as the silence gave way to joy, they spent hours together, talking like the old days, only this time without the shadows of grief hanging over them.
While walking back through town, Anaru was the first to notice him.
" is that…?"
Across the street, under the soft glow of a vending machine, stood a young man with long white hair, dressed in black, holding a can of cold coffee. He turned casually, silver irises catching the fading light.
"Sup?" Nero said.
They froze.
Poppo's eyes widened. "No way…"
Jintan stepped forward, "You—how—?"
"You didn't think I'd ghost you forever, right?" Nero smirked.
They surrounded him, throwing questions and smiles all at once. It was surreal, like seeing a myth come to life—except this myth had saved Menma.
They didn't press too hard. Somehow, they all knew Nero was the kind of person who walked paths too far from theirs. But still… they were happy to see him again.
That night, they returned to the mountain—back to the old hideout.
Lanterns flickered gently. Tsuruko and Yukiatsu talked near the railing, Anaru and Poppo laughed over an old joke, and Jintan sat close to Menma, watching the stars.
On a wooden bench near the edge, Nero sat quietly, sipping another cold coffee.
Menma joined him, swinging her legs softly beneath the seat.
"You came back," she said.
"I never really left," Nero replied, his gaze still on the sky. "Just needed to make sure everything settled."
She was silent for a moment, then asked, "Will I disappear again?"
Nero exhaled slowly and tilted his head toward the stars. "No. I made sure to properly cut the strings that were pulling you. So don't worry. You won't be disappearing anytime soon."
Menma wiped a tear as it fell, smiling through it. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just live. That's enough."
After a long, quiet pause, Nero stood up.
"Well," he said, brushing off his coat, "Time to head out."
Everyone turned toward him. They knew it was coming—but it still hit hard.
Anaru stepped forward first, eyes glistening. "You're leaving… just like that?"
"You gave us Menma back," Jintan added, voice trembling. "We didn't even get to say thank you."
"You don't have to," Nero replied with a soft smile. "You've already done more than enough. You remembered her. You loved her. That's all that ever mattered."
Tsuruko's voice cracked, "Where will you go?"
"Where I'm needed."
Poppo sniffed, "You'll come back though, right?"
Nero turned toward the shadowed trees and paused. "Maybe. If the wind brings me back."
As he began to walk away, the group called out after him, voices overlapping.
"Thank you!"
"Be safe, Nero!"
"You better visit!"
Nero stopped at the edge of the trail, half-shadowed by the forest. He turned once more and said, "You don't need someone like me anymore. You've already found your light."
And with that, he vanished into the dark, like a ghost who never belonged to the world—but left it brighter than he found it.
(The End)