Haruki kept telling himself that distance was safe.
"Don't get close. People leave, people disappear"
he thought. He tried to hold this thought like a shield. But the park did not listen to him. The trees, the wind, the bench everything was no longer only his. His eyes always searched for her, even before he wanted them to.And there she was. Ayumi. Waiting, like always. Sitting quietly, as if the world itself had kept her still until he arrived.
So that day, Haruki sat a little far from her. Not too far, but far enough to pretend he was not drawn to her. He spoke less. His answers were short. He kept his eyes on the ground. But silence with Ayumi was different. It was not the silence of loneliness. It was soft, warm like snow that falls gently without hurting. This silence did not leave him empty. It covered him, quietly. Still, he tried to resist. But every time the wind touched her hair, his heart moved without his permission. Every small sound she made pulled him closer.
And he thought :
"I try to push her away with my words, But my silence pulls her near. Why does her presence disturb me.....? Or maybe her presence heals me."
In that moment, Haruki felt something he could not name.
Was this peace?
Or was it the beginning of something else?
Ayumi was patient. She did not force words on Haruki. She only gave him little pieces of herself like placing small stones on a path, one after another, leading him closer. She asked him about simple things.
"Do you like the sound of rain?"
"What kind of pen do you use for writing?" "Do you ever look at the sky for too long?"
Her questions were light, but they carried warmth. Haruki answered with short replies.
"Yes."
"Black ink."
"Sometimes."
But Ayumi smiled at every answer, as if his single word was enough. She never showed disappointment. She just stayed like sunlight that enters through a small window, slowly filling the room.
Day after day, her presence grew inside him. He began to notice her voice even after leaving the park. At night, when he was alone with his notebook, sometimes he wrote words he could not show her.
Words like:
"Why do I wait for her?"
"Why does her silence not feel heavy?" "Am I still alone or already not?"
Haruki did not realize it yet, but Ayumi was no longer just someone who came to the park. She was becoming a part of his peace.
The evening was quiet. The sky was painted with fading orange, and the park was almost empty. Only two figures remained Haruki and Ayumi, sitting side by side. For a long time, they watched the sky without speaking. The silence was not heavy; it was like a secret they both shared. Ayumi's fingers played with the corner of her notebook. Her voice was low when she finally asked :
"Haruki, do you also like me?"
The words were soft, but they trembled in the air. She did not look at him right away. Her eyes stayed on the horizon, as if the answer was too bright to face directly.
Haruki felt his heart tighten. He had no simple reply.
"Yes" felt too close.
"No" felt too far.
And silence felt cruel.
He turned his head slightly, watching her profile against the sunset. Then, after a long pause, he whispered :
"If you are trying to find me, let's find together."
Ayumi's breath caught. She finally looked at him. There was no clear answer in his words, but there was a doorhalf open, waiting for her to step in. The sky grew darker, but between them, something had quietly begun to glow. After Haruki's words, silence returned, but it was no longer empty. It was alive like the calm ripples after a stone touches water. Ayumi smiled faintly, not with triumph, but with relief. She didn't need a clear answer, she only needed a path to walk beside him. And Haruki had given her that.
The air grew cooler, the first star blinking above them. Ayumi leaned back slightly on the bench, her shoulders brushing his. It was the gentlest touch.accidental, maybe but neither of them moved away. Haruki closed his eyes for a moment.
"So this is what peace feels like, Not silence alone, but silence shared."
They stayed like that, saying little, letting the night carry their unspoken thoughts. It wasn't a promise, it wasn't a confession, but it was something more fragile and more real a beginning without a name.
When they finally stood to leave, Ayumi looked at him and said softly :
"Then let's keep searching."
Haruki nodded. But deep inside, a quiet question remained :
Was she searching for peace or was she searching for him?
The stars above had no answer. They only watched, glowing faintly, as if guarding a secret.