Once.
And then, slowly, they shifted turned toward her.
For the first time.
The noise of the platform faded into a soft blur.
She wasn't glowing in any magical way, but the overhead light seemed to gather around her highlighting the honest edges of her face. Her hoodie was slightly too big, her smile just a little lopsided, and her knees bounced as she sat. But her eyes… her eyes were looking straight into him. With no expectation. No sympathy.
Just… presence.
Ren stared.
His lips parted slightly. Not to speak. Just from disbelief.
Airi leaned back, triumphant.
"See? You're alive. That face proves it."
Then, with a playful bounce in her shoulder, she extended her hand.
"Friends?"
He looked at it.
Then at her eyes.
Then back at her hand.
There was a pause.
A deep, quiet pause.
And then very slowly he reached out.
Their fingers touched.
His were colder. Hesitant.
But they closed around hers anyway. A light shake.
"…I'm Ren."
His voice was quiet. Almost like dust.
But real.
"I'm Airi! Tada~" she chirped, flashing a peace sign with her other hand.
They sat a little while longer no rush.
Turns out, same school. Same year.
School was closed for a few days due to maintenance.
Airi pulled her phone out, thumb dancing across the screen.
"Same bench. Tuesday. 4 PM," she declared, pointing at the spot beneath them.
"Don't ghost me or I'll haunt you."
Ren blinked.
And almost smiled.
Almost.
The distant tunnel trembled again.
Another train approached its lights cutting through the darkness.
Ren stood up slowly.
Boarded without looking back.
The doors slid shut.
Through the window, Airi waved both hands with a wide grin.
"Bye, friend!"
Ren watched her.
And then, quietly, under his breath like trying the word out for the first time:
"Friend…"
As the train moved, her figure blurred behind the glass.
But the echo of her voice stayed.
Like a thread thin, invisible, and newly tied between him and the world again.
The main door creaked softly as Ren pushed it open.
A thin trail of streetlight slipped in from behind him, casting his shadow long across the floor. The house inside was quiet not tense, just used to silence. A single wall clock ticked faintly above the shoe rack, its hands frozen at 9:15 PM.
The lights were dim. The kind that stayed on not for visibility, but out of habit.
From the kitchen, the sound of a metal pot being stirred echoed lightly. A wooden ladle tapping against steel. A chair scraped.
Ren stepped in and removed his shoes slowly.
As he moved past the hallway, a voice met him tired, blunt, but not harsh.
"You're late again, Ren. Without a call?"
His mother stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand on her hip, the other holding a ladle. Her hair was tied back into a rough bun, and her apron was dusted with flour. There were fine wrinkles around her eyes, not from frowning, but from years of staying up late and waking up early.
Her expression wasn't angry just worn.
She turned back into the kitchen without waiting for an answer.
"Dinner's cold. You want to eat or not?"
Ren stood still for a second. Then nodded.
"Sorry."
His voice was soft. The kind that didn't expect a response.
She didn't give one either.
He heard her mumbling something under her breath. A small complaint. But there was no venom in it. Just the kind of grumbling that filled space when emotions couldn't.
She scooped rice onto a plate, not looking back, as if this routine had happened a hundred times before.
Ren stepped forward, pulled out the nearest chair, and sat down at the dining table.
The wooden surface was clean but old, slightly uneven at the edges. A bowl of miso soup sat beside a plate of pickled radish and egg. The steam was gone, but the effort still sat there quiet, unnoticed, but present.
He looked at it for a moment, then picked up the chopsticks slowly.
His mother didn't sit down with him. She returned to the sink, started rinsing a bowl, her back turned.
Outside, a dog barked in the distance. Somewhere, a motorcycle passed by.
Inside, the only sounds were chopsticks tapping the plate, and running water.
And in that space silent but warm a boy ate food made hours ago, and a mother who never said "I love you" made sure he was fed anyway.
The door clicked shut behind him not loud, not dramatic. Just soft, like every other sound in Ren's life.
His room welcomed him with quiet familiarity.
A single table lamp flickered dimly in the corner, casting long shadows across a wall half-covered with faded posters. Old books leaned tiredly against one another on a shelf near the window. The bed, neatly made this morning, now received his bag with a dull thud as he dropped it without care.
Ren stepped out of his shoes.
And with one fluid motion, he sank into the bed arms spread slightly, eyes up at the cracked ceiling. The plaster above had always reminded him of a spider's web. Intricate, broken, and oddly permanent.
The silence settled thickly, like a blanket pulled up to his chin.
For a while, he didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just breathed.
Then, somewhere in the distance a car passed, faint and fading.
A clock ticked softly.
The curtain swayed as a breeze crept in through a cracked window.
The world stayed the same.
But inside him, something wasn't.
Ren's eyes remained open, still locked onto the ceiling. But his mind drifted…
And then
Snippets flickered behind his eyes. Disjointed, glowing, alive.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
A voice bright, a little breathless.
Her laugh. The way she tilted her head.
The bounce in her step.
That smile unfiltered.
"You seem kind. Also… kinda cute?"
The sentence looped. Not teasing. Just real.
Her hand, stretched toward him in the light.
"Friends?"
He blinked once. Slowly.
Stared at the same ceiling… but saw something else now.
A crack in the concrete that didn't feel threatening
Just… human.
His hand rose and settled gently on his chest. He didn't know why.
Maybe to feel something.
His face remained blank expressionless to anyone watching.
But inside?
Somewhere deep in the locked-away corners of himself…
A quiet place had stirred.
A small echo. A shift.
Like the first tap of a chisel against a wall that had never been touched.
And under his breath, not even fully voiced, just shaped by his lips:
"…Airi…"
The breeze lifted the curtain slightly, casting moving shadows across the floor.
The room didn't change.
But he did.
Even if just a little.
Morning light poured softly through the half-open window, painting long golden stripes across the wooden floor.
Inside the small room, a quiet chaos unfolded.
Ren, one sock already on, was hopping on one foot trying to wear the other barely balanced, half-dressed, and clearly in a hurry. His hair was still messy, his hoodie half-zipped. He stumbled once, almost fell into his chair, then recovered with the dignity of someone used to living alone in his own mess.
The clock read 8:02 AM.
From the doorway, a familiar voice floated in playful, teasing.
"Going out this early? You have a girlfriend now?"
Ren turned caught mid-hop and saw his mother standing there with a small lunchbox in her hands.
Her expression was soft, amused. Not demanding. Not sarcastic. Just… light.
Ren blinked at her. Then, unexpectedly, a corner of his mouth lifted.
It wasn't a full smile. But for Ren, it was close enough.
He walked over, grabbing the box carefully from her hand.
"She's just… someone I met. We're meeting at the park today."
His voice was quiet. Almost shy.
His mother raised an eyebrow, still smiling. She gave him a knowing look not pushing, not questioning. Then, as he turned to grab his bag, she added gently:
"Give this to her. From me."
He paused.
Turned to look at her again.
There was no lecture. No questions about who the girl was, where they'd met, or why he was smiling for the first time in months. Just that single sentence and a warm, silent trust behind it.
For a moment, neither spoke.
No dramatic background music. No cinematic camera spin.
Just a mother and son standing in a quiet house, sunlight warming the wooden floor between them.
Ren gave a small nod.
"Okay."
Their eyes met briefly not intensely, but meaningfully.
And in that soft, wordless glance… something passed between them. A rare connection. A thread that hadn't been pulled in a long time.
A kind of silent message:
"Maybe you're not alone anymore."
Ren turned, slung his bag over one shoulder, and stepped into the light.
The lunchbox sat in his hand like a quiet promise.
The train rattled gently through the city's morning haze packed with office-goers, students, and the usual blur of briefcases and backpacks.
Ren stood near the door, one hand gripping the overhead rail. His hoodie sleeves tugged down to his knuckles. Shoulders hunched slightly, eyes lowered.
Inside his head, thoughts ticked louder than the train's screeching wheels.
"I'm not good at talking. I suck at this."
"She might think I'm boring."
"…Let's just see what happens."
The train began to slow.
He raised his head, glanced out the fogged-up window.
And there she was.
Airi stood on the platform light pink skirt fluttering in the breeze, a small sling bag across her shoulder, a soft glow from the sun lighting her hair like gold. She wasn't doing anything dramatic. Just smiling, hands loosely crossed behind her.
But something about her presence made the crowd feel quieter.
The doors slid open with a metallic sigh.
She spotted him immediately.
"Good morning!" she said brightly, waving with that same unfiltered joy that had startled him the first time they met.
Ren opened his mouth, the word catching in his throat before finally escaping in a quiet, clumsy exhale.
"Hey…"
She stepped inside, and they found space near the same door closer now.
The train began moving again. People swayed gently with the motion. Announcements played overhead, dulled under the hum of conversation and station noise.
They didn't speak immediately.
Ren stared at the floor for a moment, unsure what to say.
But beside him… warmth.
Then
A sudden jerk. A curve in the track.
The train shifted, and Airi stumbled forward slightly.
Without thinking, her hand reached out
And found his.
Her fingers wrapped around his palm.
Ren froze.
Everything inside him went still.
Then loud.
Then impossibly fast.
But he didn't pull away.
Neither did she.
She blinked once, looked up at him with a sheepish smile. Their hands still connected.
"What's in the bag?" she asked casually, trying not to make it awkward.
Ren glanced at the lunchbox his mom had packed.
"Mom gave it. Said it's for you… I didn't check it."
Airi's eyes widened.
Then softened.
"Aww… that's so sweet of her!" she said, her grip still warm in his.
Ren didn't respond right away.
But something in his chest had shifted again not cracked this time, but opened. Just a little more.
The train carried them forward.
But Ren?
For the first time in a long while…
He didn't feel like he was going nowhere.
The street was wide and mostly quiet. Morning shadows stretched long across the pavement, shifting slightly as the clouds moved overhead.
Ren and Airi walked side by side, their steps soft against the sidewalk tiles.
Airi talked with ease words flowing like a stream that had always been there, just waiting to be heard. Her voice rose and dipped gently, full of warmth, honesty, and little bursts of laughter.
She talked about her little brother, how he cried every time she took his snacks but still saved the last candy for her.
About her mom's obsession with bargain sales. About her dad, who was always buried in work not distant, but never really there either.
Ren listened.
He didn't say much.
He rarely did.
But today, his eyes stayed on her watching the way she gestured with her hands, the way she paused mid-sentence to laugh at her own story.
They reached a small park tucked between rows of apartment buildings.
A blooming tree stood tall beside an old wooden bench. Its petals floated gently down like soft snow.
They sat.
The moment settled.
Airi stretched her legs out, tilted her head back, watching the petals fall.
Then, she turned.
"What about you?" she asked, voice quiet now.
Ren stared ahead. For a moment, he didn't answer.
Then… he did.
His voice low. Careful.
"Dad and big brother... they died."
Airi blinked.
Ren's eyes didn't leave the ground.
"Six months ago. Car crash. Since then…"
He hesitated. Then finished.
"…I haven't really smiled."
Silence.
But not the cold kind.
Airi didn't ask questions.
Didn't say "I'm sorry" or "that must be hard."
Instead, she reached out.
Her hand found his again gently, like touching something fragile that still mattered.
"Then let's make today worth smiling," she said softly.
Ren looked up.
She smiled not out of pity, but with something kinder. Realer.
Then, with no warning at all, she jumped to her feet.
"Let's go explore!" she shouted, as if that solved everything.
She grabbed his wrist and pulled.
Ren stumbled, confused.
"Wait, what…...?"
But she was already walking backward, dragging him along, her laughter echoing through the trees.
Ren resisted slightly at first.
But not fully.
And somewhere in that pull in that burst of reckless joy he didn't understand
A smile did come.
Faint.
Real.
The world around them slowed.
Petals danced lazily in the wind as sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting dappled patterns on the grass below. Laughter echoed not loud, but full. Bright.
Airi ran through the small garden patch like a child let loose after school.
She spun in a circle, arms wide, her pastel skirt fluttering.
"Look! That one almost landed on me!" she squealed, pointing at a butterfly zigzagging near a bush.
Ren stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, watching.
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
But his eyes followed every motion. The butterflies. The wind tugging her hoodie strings. The sunlight warming the edges of her hair.
She was alive in a way he'd forgotten was possible.
Not because she was loud.
Not because she was trying to be anything.
But because she simply was.
His inner voice surfaced softly.
"She's like a child. Pure. Alive.
This is... real living."
No walls. No masks. Just light and laughter.
Airi returned to him, slightly breathless, cheeks pink, a petal stuck in her hair. She didn't even notice it.
"That was fun!" she grinned, catching her breath.
Ren pulled the lunchbox from his bag and offered it silently.
She blinked.
"Oh, this is from your mom, right?"
He nodded.
"She said it's for you."
Airi sat cross-legged on the grass like it was the most natural thing to do. Ren sat beside her, stiff at first, but eventually relaxed.
They opened the box simple sushi rolls, neat and homemade. Some pickled veggies. A small fruit slice tucked in the corner.
They ate together, the wind gently rustling the trees above.
No music played.
No big dialogues filled the space.
Just quiet laughter.
Soft chopsticks tapping.
And that warmth.
That strange, unfamiliar warmth of belonging.
The camera slowly pulled back showing the two of them sitting close under the tree, heads slightly bowed toward each other as they laughed quietly at something simple.
The sun dipped slightly in the sky. Shadows stretched.
Time, for once, didn't rush.
They crossed a narrow wooden bridge, barely wide enough for two people. Beneath them, a small stream bubbled gently over smooth stones, birds chirping in the distance. The late afternoon light gave the water a soft shimmer, making the entire scene feel like a watercolour painting come to life.
Airi skipped ahead, humming some childish tune, her arms stretched like airplane wings.
"Ren~ look at this!" she called, standing on one foot at the edge of the bridge.
Ren walked behind her at a steady pace, one hand still in his pocket, the other holding his bag. His eyes never left her not out of romantic longing, but out of a quiet, growing fear.
Then, it happened in an instant.
Airi stepped on a mossy patch, and her foot slipped.
Her body jerked sideways
A sharp yelp tore from her lips
And her hand shot out.
Ren's eyes widened in horror as she tumbled toward the edge.
He dropped his bag and lunged forward.
Their fingers locked.
She dangled halfway off the bridge, feet scrambling for grip, laughter mixed with panic in her breath.
"W Whoops…"
Ren's grip tightened.
"No. No, no. I can't lose her."
His heart pounded louder than anything around them.
His shoes dug into the wooden planks, back bent, arm straining as he pulled her upward with everything he had. Muscles screamed, but he didn't care.
With one strong heave, he yanked her back onto the bridge.
She fell forward into him chest first, catching her breath and then burst into laughter.
"Woohoo! That was fun!" she grinned, brushing her hair back, cheeks flushed like a reckless child who'd just won a game.
Ren, still holding her shoulders, stared in disbelief.
Then his expression shifted.
"IDIOT!" he shouted, voice cracking with panic and anger.
"You could've….!"
But the words broke mid-sentence.
She looked up at him, pouting, cheeks puffed, eyebrows bent in playful guilt.
He sighed. The storm behind his eyes softened.
His hands moved slow, almost automatic and he gently ruffled her head.
She blinked, surprised. Then smiled again, this time quieter.
They stood like that for a moment. On the middle of that fragile bridge between panic and laughter, between fear and connection.
Ren didn't say another word.
But his heartbeat… it was still racing.
The park buzzed with laughter and life the golden hour setting the world aglow. Children ran barefoot on the grass, chasing each other with toy swords and shuttlecocks, their carefree shrieks weaving into the fading day.
Ren sat on a bench under the same blooming tree as before. His bag lay beside him, untouched. But he didn't seem tired. In fact, he didn't even notice time passing.
Because just a few feet ahead…
Airi was spinning in circles with two small boys, arms linked, laughing like she belonged in their world. Her hair swirled like a ribbon around her, her joy completely unfiltered.
Ren watched.
And smiled.
Not the half-smiles he gave to avoid conversation.
Not the polite ones he gave to teachers or neighbours.
This was something quieter.
Realer.
He found himself standing.
His body moved before his brain caught up, his feet taking him into the chaos.
A boy handed him a toy bat. Another girl pointed toward a plastic ball rolling on the grass.
Ren bent down, picked it up, and tossed it back not awkwardly, but naturally. He knelt beside a small girl whose shoelaces were a mess, and silently retied them with clumsy but careful fingers.
He didn't know when it started.
But he laughed.
And meant it.
"Six months."
"First time… I've really laughed."
A small tug on his pant leg broke the thought.
A little girl, no more than five, looked up at him with expectant eyes. She pointed toward her pink shuttlecock stuck in the low branches of a tree.
Ren blinked. "Stuck?"
She nodded, puffing her cheeks in frustration.
He was just about to reach up when
"HEY!"
Airi came bounding over, exaggerated fury in her expression.
"That's MY property! Touch him and I'll end you!" she declared like a cartoon villain, pointing a finger at the startled girl.
The little girl's eyes welled up immediately.
Ren's eyes widened in panic.
"N No, no, she's kidding! She's joking…..."
Airi froze.
Looked at the girl.
Then at Ren.
Then back.
"…Oh no. Nononono, don't cry…..!"
She dropped to her knees, patting the girl's head.
"I'm sorry! I was playing! Here, look let's get your shuttlecock back, okay?"
She climbed up onto a nearby stone bench, stretched out with full effort, and after a little struggle, managed to knock the shuttlecock free with a stick.
The girl clapped. Airi bowed like a performer and handed it back with a sheepish grin.
Ren, standing nearby, watched the scene quietly.
The light caught in her hair again. Her sleeves rolled up. A gentle smile on her lips. No makeup, no filter, no act.
Just… Airi.
"She's shining again..."
His gaze softened.
He didn't realize his vision had blurred slightly until something smacked against his cheek a quick, playful tap.
"Hey!"
He blinked, startled.
Airi stood there with her hands on her hips.
"Earth to Ren!"
Ren looked away instantly, cheeks pink. He scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered.
"S-Sorry… got distracted."
Airi tilted her head, grinning.
"Were you crying?"
Ren's ears turned red.
"What? No."
"Aww, was my cuteness too overwhelming?"
"…No comment."
She laughed.
The breeze picked up. Leaves rustled softly around them.
And in the background, kids kept playing, as if the world for now had no weight.
The sun dipped low over the quiet park, casting long shadows and golden reflections across the rippling stream. The breeze had cooled just enough to ruffle hair and sleeves, brushing past like a sigh of relief at the end of a good day.
Airi and Ren stood side by side, leaning gently over a curved stone bridge. Their arms rested on the edge, faces lit softly by the tangerine glow of dusk.
Below them, orange and violet koi fish swam in lazy circles, occasionally flicking their fins toward the surface, breaking the reflections.
Airi pointed at one.
"Look, that one's got a spot like a heart on its back!"
Ren followed her gaze, searching.
"I… don't see it."
"There on the left! The chubby one!"
He squinted.
"That's not a heart. That's just a weird blob."
Airi gasped in mock offense.
"Ren!" she turned to him, narrowed eyes. "That 'weird blob' is living its truth."
Ren chuckled. The sound was low, short but real.
"Right. Sorry, blob-fish."
She grinned, proud of having cracked his serious shell again.
They fell quiet for a while, just watching the fish swirl below, each small ripple catching the last bits of sunlight.
Then Airi spoke softly.
"When I was a kid, I used to think koi fish had memories of past lives."
Ren turned slightly, curious.
"Why?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know. Maybe because they move so calmly. Like... nothing surprises them. As if they've seen everything before."
Ren looked down again, at the water.
"Maybe they just stopped expecting things."
Airi glanced at him sideways.
"Like you?"
He didn't reply immediately. His fingers curled slightly against the stone.
The breeze rustled the trees behind them.
"I used to expect things," Ren said quietly.
"Birthdays. Holidays. Even hugs."
Airi's smile faded.
Ren kept his eyes on the fish.
"But then… life just started taking more than it gave."
The silence after that was thick. Not awkward. Just… full.
Airi reached out slowly, letting her hand rest beside his. Not holding. Not forcing.
Just… being there.
"Well," she said, voice barely above a whisper, "for what it's worth… today gave me something."
Ren looked at her.
For the first time, their eyes met without masks no jokes, no sarcasm, no walls.
Just two people.
Bruised. But breathing.
Ren nodded, voice low.
"Yeah. Me too."
Above them, a few stars began to peek through the indigo sky.
Below them, the koi moved on slow, steady, eternal.
Steam curled gently from the bowls, dancing into the orange glow of the ramen shop's hanging lanterns. The little place was tucked away near the park the kind of hole in the wall joint where the wood creaked under your feet, and the smell of broth clung to your clothes long after you'd left.
Airi sat cross-legged on the bench across from Ren, elbows on the table, face glowing with childlike anticipation.
She lifted her chopsticks, said a loud "itadakimasu!" and dove in.
SLLLRRRRPPPPP.
The slurp echoed across the tiny shop.
Ren blinked.
Airi looked up mid-slurp, noodles dangling from her lips.
"What?" she mumbled, still chewing. "This is how you eat it properly!"
She slurped again louder this time.
A group of salarymen two tables down turned around.
Ren stared at her like she was a rogue creature that escaped from a manga panel.
She wiped her mouth and waved him on.
"Come on! Slurp! If you eat it quietly, the ramen gods get offended."
Ren smirked, then awkwardly leaned forward and tried it.
Sssllrp.
Airi's eyes lit up.
"Louder!"
He rolled his eyes. Took a breath. And then
SLLLLRRRRRRPPPPPPP.
It echoed. Truly echoed.
Airi's jaw dropped. Then she burst into laughter loud, uncaring, joyous.
The salarymen stared again.
This time, she quickly picked up the menu and held it in front of her face like a shield.
"Abort mission. You've drawn too much attention!"
Ren laughed. Actually laughed. Not a smirk. Not a chuckle. A full, low laugh that caught even him off-guard.
The table went quiet again.
Outside the shop window, lights of the town shimmered on glass gentle and distant.
Inside, two bowls of ramen slowly emptied.
And between them, a moment rested warm and simple.
Ren looked at her. She was still half-hiding behind the menu, but one eye peeked over the top bright, playful, alive.
He felt it again. That strange stillness in his chest.
That peace.
Ren internal:
"She makes everything... easier."
He reached for his water. Airi peeked again.
"Hey, Ren?"
"Hm?"
"Next time... let's try the spicy one. Together. No crying allowed."
Ren smiled.
"Deal."
The two stepped out of the ramen shop into the crisp evening air.
The city shimmered around them not too loud, not too dark. Somewhere, a busker strummed an old guitar. The streets were beginning to empty, but the world still felt alive.
They walked slowly, shoulders brushing once or twice but neither saying anything about it. Ren's bag hung loosely from one shoulder. Airi was humming softly beside him, as if the silence needed just a little decoration.
Ren quietly:
"Let's go to the museum tomorrow?"
Airi stopped mid step and turned toward him, eyes wide like he'd just asked her to join a secret mission.
Then she grinned.
"Deal."
They continued walking until they reached the station steps.
As they reached the turnstile, Airi's pace slowed.
She reached out and took his hand.
Just like that.
Her fingers were warm.
Ren's heart skipped.
He tried to say something anything but no words came. His brain had gone static. All he could do was look down at their joined hands… and then up at her smile.
Airi softly teasing:
"Don't faint on me, okay? It's just a hand."
He looked away, lips twitching slightly.
"I know."
The metro announcement echoed through the platform: "Train arriving on Line 2."
The wind picked up, pushing her hair slightly across her face. She tucked it behind her ear and looked at him again.
Ren quietly:
"Go safe. Text me when you reach."
Airi:
"Only if you promise not to disappear."
He gave a short nod.
The train screeched into the station. The crowd shuffled forward.
Airi took a step toward the door. Then another. But right before stepping in, she paused.
Turned.
And without hesitation pulled him into a hug.
Quick. Close. Real.
Ren's eyes widened. The scent of her shampoo, the softness of her hoodie, the surprise of it all it hit at once.
Before he could react, she let go and turned again.
No words.
She boarded. The doors closed.
Ren didn't move. Not for a long few seconds.
He watched the train disappear into the tunnel, carrying her away into neon twilight.
And then… he smiled.
Just a little.
But enough.