The park looked the same as always. The
benches, the trees, and the fading sunlight made it feel familiar, safe. But today, something was different. Haruki arrived at their usual bench, a little earlier than Ayumi. He liked the quiet moments before she came, but today even that felt heavier. The wind blew softly, brushing leaves across the path. The orange glow of the sun felt warmer, yet somehow hollow.
And then he saw her.
Ayumi walked slowly toward him, her usual gentle smile replaced by a small frown. Her shoulders slouched slightly, and her hands were tucked into her bag straps. Something in her steps made Haruki's chest tighten without him understanding why.
"Hey anything happened?" he asked quietly,
trying not to sound too sharp or worried.
Ayumi looked away, tracing the cracks in the pavement with her gaze.
"Nothing just a little off today," she murmured.
Haruki noticed the way her fingers fidgeted with her notebook, how her eyes seemed distant even though she was standing right in front of him. He stayed quiet, letting the silence stretch, heavy and soft at the same time. He didn't rush her.
After a few moments, Ayumi sighed. The sound was barely audible, but it carried a weight. Haruki's heart tugged. He leaned slightly forward on the bench, resting a hand on the wood. It felt rough, grounding him, as if it were reminding him to stay calm.
"I can sit with you if you want," he said gently
"You don't have to say anything now."
Ayumi hesitated, then nodded. She sat beside him, keeping a little distance, but close enough that their shoulders almost brushed. The wind lifted strands of her hair, and Haruki's heart stirred again, soft and restless. Minutes passed. The park was quiet except for the distant sound of children leaving and a dog barking somewhere. The sky was painted with orange and pink, fading slowly to violet.
Finally, Ayumi broke the silence.
"It's my friend," she whispered.
"She's having a hard time."
Haruki looked at her, silent, waiting. He didn't interrupt. He had learned long ago that rushing someone only made things heavier.
"She her boyfriend " Kaito " he's not good for her," Ayumi continued,
her voice shaking slightly.
"She knows it, but she can't leave him. She's too emotionally attached. And even though she knows it, she stays. She thinks she can change him, but he only uses her. She gives everything and he doesn't respect her. He doesn't even have goals in life. He just, looks nice. That's it. But for her it feels like she can't let go."
Haruki listened quietly. His mind stayed calm, but inside, he felt the familiar pull to protect, to fix. He fought it. He had learned the hard way that not everything could be fixed, not every heart could be saved.
"I always try to tell her to leave him," Ayumi continued,
her voice trembling a little more.
"I tell her to break up, to stand for herself, but she doesn't listen. She just nods, then ignores me. They fight, and when they fight, she comes to me, and I give her my time, my energy. I console her. I stay up with her. I talk with her for hours, trying to help her see the truth. But the next day,
she's back with him, laughing, pretending nothing happened. And when I ask her why, she just says, he apologized, he said he cares, I should give him another chance. And I ? I don't understand. My whole day feels ruined for her, I can't focus, but I can't ignore her. When I do, I feel like I'm doing something wrong."
Haruki's eyes softened. He didn't say anything at first. He let her words settle. He knew her heart was heavy with someone else's pain, and he also knew that feeling someone's emotions did not mean carrying them entirely. He breathed slowly and said softly, almost like a lesson more than comfort:
"Just because you feel someone's pain… it doesn't mean you have to fix it."
Ayumi turned to look at him, surprised. Her lips parted, but no words came out. The wind caught her hair, fluttering across her face like a soft curtain. Haruki's eyes met hers. The quiet understanding between them was enough for now. For the rest of the evening, Haruki stayed with her, listening as Ayumi shared more about Sakura, Kaito, and all the struggles of trying to help someone who refused to listen. He didn't interrupt, didn't judge. He simply held space for her words, letting her release what she needed to. By the time the sun disappeared behind the horizon, a small calm settled between them. Ayumi's shoulders relaxed slightly. Haruki didn't speak. He didn't need to. The silence was no longer heavy it was a shared moment of trust, fragile, warm, and quiet.
The park was quieter than usual. The sun had started to dip lower, painting the sky in soft shades of gold and pink. Haruki sat on their usual bench, waiting. Today, it wasn't just a casual meeting. Exams were coming, and both of them needed focus.
Ayumi arrived, as always, her steps soft but hurried. She smiled at him, a little mischievous, as if she knew he was already thinking about the rules he'd set.
"Haruki," she said,
"I might still come to the park even during exams."
Haruki raised an eyebrow, pretending to scold, though there was a small smile tugging at his lips.
"So, I'm not coming. If you come, I won't be here. Simple as that."
Ayumi laughed lightly. "Then, I'll just come anyway."
He shook his head, mock serious.
"No. Don't come. Focus on your studies. That's an order."
Even in his teasing, there was care. He had started to pay attention to small things her routine, her sleep, her meals. It wasn't controlling; it was protection, quiet and gentle. During the days that followed, Haruki continued his subtle reminders.
"Don't forget to eat," he said once, noticing her skipping lunch. Another day, "Don't stay up too late. Exams are coming."
Ayumi accepted his words, sometimes smiling, sometimes rolling her eyes, but always listening. Slowly, she found a rhythm studying seriously, taking breaks when he suggested, keeping herself balanced. Haruki, for his part, struggled a little. He wasn't a strong student, numbers and formulas tangled in his mind like wild vines. Yet, he tried, because Ayumi's focus inspired him. And she, in her quiet way, motivated him too, even if he never admitted it out loud.
Finally, the exams ended. The air was lighter. The park seemed warmer that evening, though the sun was fading into cool twilight. Ayumi ran to their bench, face bright and sparkling.
"Haruki!" she called softly,
almost out of breath. "I… I got 91%! Can you believe it?"
Haruki smiled faintly. "That's… great. Really great."
They celebrated quietly. Ice cream in hand, sitting side by side, they let the cold bite at their fingers while laughter filled the space between them.
"And your results?" Ayumi asked after a moment, curiosity in her eyes.
Haruki sighed, a little embarrassed. "64… not great. Just average,"
he admitted. His face betrayed his disappointment.
Ayumi nudged him gently. "It's okay. You tried, and that's what matters. You have to be happy with what you have, not just what you want."
Her words wrapped around him like a soft blanket. He felt lighter, and somehow, stronger. They spent the evening sharing small joys, ice cream, laughter, and quiet glances.
As the night deepened, Ayumi hesitated, then asked softly,
"Haruki, how about a small trip? Just for a day. To the mountains near my town."
"Trip?" Haruki blinked, surprised.
"With who? How many people?"
"I told some friends," Ayumi said, shrugging. "But if they can't come, just… my best friend, Keiko, and you."
Haruki stared at her for a moment, shock mingling with curiosity.
"Okay. Let's go," he finally said, slowly, letting the words settle in.
A small adventure awaited them. One that would be quiet, yet full of moments they could only share together. And though he didn't know what exactly would happen, a small flutter of excitement stirred in his chest.
The stars blinked faintly above them, like tiny promises of things yet to come.