The city's streets were slick with icy resolve, its skies a shade darker than melancholy, and it was still covered in the frost of winter's breath. Unaffected and vigilant, snow covered the sidewalks like silent judgment.
Ayaka Takahashi sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest in a black sedan parked across the street from a luminous convenience store. Her eyes were fixed forward but not really seeing, and her face was a storm of discontent.
Sitting behind the wheel, Haruto Yamada dared to look at her.
With caution, he inquired, "Are you still considering the voice audition?"
Ayaka laughed. "Contemplating? I'm trying not to yell."
He forced a comforting smile and said, "You know, not every voice can be the one. Eventually, we'll find the right one."
Ayaka crossed her arms and sighed. "Haruto, it's not just about picking the right one. It's about refusing to accept mediocrity. To bring the character to life, I need that voice to sound genuine."
Haruto gave a nod. "Perhaps a hot meal and some fresh air will help you decompress."
Ayaka reluctantly consented. "All right."
Ayaka abruptly said, "Just park here."
"In front of the convenience store?"
"I need to get my thoughts straight."
Haruto complied, bringing the vehicle to a smooth stop. With her boots crunching softly against the snow, Ayaka ventured out into the icy night. Her face was illuminated in shades of white and pale blue by the convenience store's neon glow. After putting her gloved hands in her coat pockets, she started to move.
However, she was about to take a step when she noticed something.
A figure.
In the shadows, barely perceptible, sitting on the ground a few meters from the store entrance. Knees pulled to his chest, he hunched forward. His hair was disheveled, cascading across his face. His shoes appeared to be about to give out, and his thin coat was ripped at the sleeve.
A homeless man.
Ayaka paused.
Ayaka just stared for a moment, taken aback by the contrast—how someone so obviously young could appear so completely defeated by life.
Her eyes lingered on him for some reason. His condition wasn't the only one. It was his silence. His quiet. His face, what little she could see of it, was composed despite the way his fingers shook in the cold. resigned. Not pleading. Not looking.
Simply waiting.
Haruto saw her eyes linger. "Ayaka, are you alright?"
She jolted out of her reverie. "Indeed. I just thought I saw something."
Haruto said, "Come on," and shut the car door. "Come on in before you freeze."
Ayaka, however, stayed motionless, her gaze returning to the figure. She turned and entered the store without saying another word.
After the cold outside, the warm air inside felt nearly oppressive. Her mind kept returning to the man outside as she looked down the aisles. He was there, but why? What had happened to him?
The convenience store was warm and hummed with low-key activity. A mother struggled with a wailing toddler, a few college students laughed over snacks, and the counter clerk greeted everyone with the same automated greeting.
"Irrasshaimase~"
Slowly, Ayaka passed the aisles, her mind elsewhere.
Ayaka went to the instant food area while Haruto perused the snacks. She grabbed a bottle of water, some fruits, and two bowls of instant ramen. Then stopped.
She looked over at the counter.
She inquired, "How do I heat the ramen?"
The clerk blinked, a young man with drowsy eyes and dyed orange hair.
He indicated a hot water dispenser close to the drinks refrigerator. "Simply remove the lid, fill it with water, and give it three minutes."
With a nod, she walked over as directed. She kept thinking about the man outside while she waited for the ramen to warm up. She was unable to articulate her concern. However, there was a silence in his presence that was more resonant than anything she had heard throughout the day.
She used a plastic bag to carry the items outside. Soft flurries were whirling in the wind like restless ghosts as the snow had begun to accumulate once more.
The man remained motionless.
Still seated. Still looking down.
After a moment of staring, Ayaka's legs started to move—uninvited and unstoppable. She walked over, her footsteps gentle on the snow.
She came to a halt directly before him.
He remained motionless.
Didn't even look up.
Tucked between his knees, his face was obscured. Shivering a little on the shoulders. To keep warm, hands pushed under his arms.
Then he raised his head slowly.
And gave her a look.
His dark, piercing, and deep eyes met hers suspiciously.
Something constricted in Ayaka's chest.
'What's up with her staring at me?' He pondered. 'Will she scream? Tell me to get out of here.'
His mind was coiled and guarded. chilly. accustomed to being ignored.
However, Ayaka's thoughts were a whirlwind of their own.
'He's gorgeous.'
It was like a punch to her. The etched features of his face, despite the grime and fatigue. Despite their caution, his eyes told tales of loneliness, heartache, and storms.
'How does his voice sound?' Abruptly, she wondered. 'Could it be...'
She looked down at his raw hands, which were turning red-blue from the cold.
She knelt silently.
His breath caught.
She extended the plastic bag.
Fruit, water, and ramen.
He blinked.
Her once-hard, unreadable eyes softened. Still very serious. but warm.
He paused, then extended his hand.
His fingers briefly touched hers. From cold to warm. Lost to found.
Ayaka's cheeks flushed and she quickly averted her gaze.
He made an uncertain eye gesture.
She gave a silent nod.
He took the bag with shaking hands. Not entirely out of cold, not entirely out of fear.
From incredulity.
She sat silently next to him.
He let the steam warm his face as he opened the ramen's lid.
But he hesitated.
Ayaka nodded slightly to him.
He ate only after that.
From the corner of her eye, she observed him.
A smile tugged at her lips without her realizing it.
She wiped it away quickly.
"Slowly eat," she whispered. "It's hot."
He gave a silent nod.
Ayaka stood up after a few minutes.
He raised his head.
She gave him one final look.
And she left without saying anything.
Return to the car. Return to her world.
However, something had changed.
The man watched her retreating figure vanish into the snowy mist behind her.
He felt seen for the first time in weeks.
And for some reason, that was louder than anything he had heard in a long time.