The rain had softened by morning, though the sky was still painted in shades of dull gray. Renji sat on his small apartment balcony with the book from last night resting on his lap.
The Endings We Refuse to Write.
The cover was plain, no flashy design, no author's name—just those words in bold lettering. He flipped through the pages.
Strangely, the stories inside weren't exactly… stories. They were fragments. Vignettes. A girl who loved someone from afar but never confessed. A man who walked away before he could be abandoned. A couple who broke apart because they feared growing too close.
None of them had conclusions. They just… stopped.
Renji frowned. "What kind of book is this? It doesn't even end properly."
Still, he couldn't put it down. Each fragment tugged at something in him. They weren't the same as his experiences, but they carried the same emptiness he felt after every breakup. Like pages torn from a diary he never wrote.
When he finally looked at the clock, two hours had passed.
"…Guess I should return it."
Even though he'd bought it, the thought slipped naturally into his mind. Maybe because the book didn't feel like it was really his to keep.
Renji grabbed his jacket and stepped out. The rain had stopped, leaving puddles glistening on the pavement. He retraced his steps from last night, down the same narrow alley.
The bookstore was there again, glowing faintly in the shadow of taller buildings.
He pushed open the door. The soft chime rang out.
"Back already?"
The girl from last night—Mio, as her nametag now revealed—looked up from behind the counter. She rested her chin on her palm, grinning like she'd been expecting him.
Renji raised the book. "This thing… is weird. None of the stories end."
"That's because the endings are yours to write," Mio replied simply.
Renji blinked. "…Excuse me?"
"Think about it." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Why should someone else decide how your story ends? If you leave it unfinished, then it means you can still change it."
Renji gave a half-smile. "That's… a very convenient way of selling an incomplete book."
"Hey!" She puffed her cheeks playfully. "It's not incomplete. It's just… open."
Renji chuckled despite himself. There was something about the way she spoke—it wasn't just clever, it was like she was deliberately poking holes in his doubts and filling them with strange little hopes.
"You really talk like you know what I've been through," he said.
Mio tilted her head. "Maybe I do."
Renji frowned. "Do I… know you from somewhere?"
"Nope," she answered quickly, flashing an innocent smile that only made him more suspicious. "But heartbreak has a certain look to it. You're practically wearing it on your forehead."
Renji sighed. "So I just look that miserable, huh?"
"You look like someone who hasn't given up yet," Mio corrected. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."
Her words caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond.
Mio, meanwhile, hopped down from her stool and walked toward one of the shelves. Her footsteps were light, almost soundless, like she floated more than walked. She ran a finger across the spines before plucking out another book and handing it to him.
This one was titled "The Quiet Places Where Love Hides."
Renji raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. This one's unfinished too?"
"Depends," Mio said, her grin widening. "Are you brave enough to finish it?"
He couldn't help but laugh. "…You're a strange one."
"Strange is better than boring," she replied cheerfully.
Renji flipped the book open, pretending to skim, though his mind was elsewhere. It had only been a day since he met this girl, yet she had already unsettled something inside him. Maybe it was the way she spoke, or the way she looked straight through him, as if she saw more than he showed.
"…I'll take it," he said at last.
Mio clapped her hands lightly, as if he'd just passed a test. "Good choice."
As Renji paid, she leaned forward slightly. "Come back when you've read it. I want to know which page speaks to you most."
Renji pocketed the book, eyeing her suspiciously. "…You're not going to tell me it's some kind of magic book, are you?"
"Would you believe me if I did?"
He hesitated. "…Maybe."
Mio laughed softly, her voice carrying a warmth that lingered even after he stepped back outside.
As Renji walked home, book in hand, he realized something strange.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn't thinking about the girlfriend who left him yesterday. He was thinking about the girl in the bookstore.