One Week Later... 7 PM
Evening had descended.
Far from the noise of the city, in a colony wrapped in silence—
a place that seemed peaceful on the outside, yet held just as much chaos within.
In every building of the colony, tenants were occupied in their own little worlds.
Somewhere, the sound of utensils clattering.
Somewhere else, the drone of news playing on a television.
And from another direction, the soft hum of distant music.
At the center of this colony was a small park.
On the entrance of the colony there was an old iron gate, rust gathering around its mesh-like grills.
Near the gate sat a beautifuwooden bench, worn and weathered, with a small metal plate fixed into it.
"Adelais Perry Harper."
A name from the past—etched as if it once held great meaning.
Now, just a fading relic.
A guy stepped into the park through the creaking gate.
His walk was slow.
That same leather duffle bag slung across his shoulder—
And it felt as if an invisible weight was dragging at every step.
Without making a sound, he walked to the bench labeled Adelais Perry Harper.
He placed his bag down beside him, and without a moment's hesitation, sat.
For a while, he didn't move.
He simply stared ahead.
Then slowly, he lifted his head and gazed at the sky.
He stretched his arms over the bench's backrest.
The night sky was a deep blue.
Stars were few,
but those that did appear—
they spread a strange kind of cold calm across the heavens.
The wind was gentle,
carrying a hint of melancholy with it.
It felt like he was saying something to the stars.
As if there was a silent conversation unfolding—
a wordless dialogue between him and the sky.
As if a memory, once faded, was rising again to the surface.
But after a few moments, his face began to shift... into quiet despair.
His eyes brimmed—
like a glass of wine, filled to the edge—
but not a single tear fell.
He closed his eyes.
As if diving deep within himself.
As if trying to drown the sorrow that lived there.
As if one more night of an unfinished story had passed by.
As if the world had frozen,
but inside him—a storm raged.
The world around him moved at its own pace,
but for him, everything had stopped.
He could feel the soft waves of air against his face,
but his mind was adrift—lost elsewhere.
And then—a voice brushed against his ears.
Soft.
As if someone was calling him from a distance.
As if someone had tossed a pebble into the still ocean of his thoughts.
"Hey? Are you alright?"
He was still inside his thoughts...
but the voice came again—clearer this time.
"Hey? Are you alright?"
This time, the voice was a little closer.
For a moment, he tried to pull himself out of the depths of his thoughts.
His eyes opened slowly—
and in front of him stood a girl.
Her eyes searched for an answer.
He looked at her for a brief second—
without emotion, without interest.
Then, he took a light breath and said in a tone completely flat, completely detached:
"Yeah."
A "Yes" that was nothing more than a formality.
As if saying, "Yeah, what do you want?"
As if it made no difference to him who was standing there in front of him.
The girl asked again,
"Are you okay?"
This time, her voice held a softness—
a genuine concern, as if she truly cared.
The guy pulled himself out of the world of dreams and memory.
He adjusted his posture slightly,
and then slowly placed both his hands over his face.
His fingers reached his eyes, gently rubbing them—
as if brushing away exhaustion, or perhaps as if waking from a dream.
But in truth, he was checking whether there were tears in his eyes.
And even if there were,
he wiped them away in such a way that it would seem as if they had never existed.
Then, he exhaled softly,
and said—
"Yeah... I'm fine."
There was a certain dampness in his voice, a weight—
a heaviness that felt like his heart was full.
The girl looked at him for a moment,
as if trying to judge whether he was truly fine or just pretending to be.
Then she spoke again,
"How is your injury?"
At that, the guy paused for a moment.
He moved his hand over his chest,
as if trying to feel whether the wound was still there—
or if it had become just a memory.
And he looked at the girl again.
A question rose in his mind—
"How does she know?"
He was just about to ask—
when the girl spoke herself:
"Oh... I—
I'm the same girl...
The one on the scooty.
The one you saved that day."
She gestured toward another girl standing a little distance away.
That girl still had her face covered with a scarf.
"She's my friend.
That day, I had also covered my face, remember?
How would you have known who I was?"
And then, a soft smile touched her lips.
The guy gave the faintest nod,
and with a voice filled with disinterest,
uttered a single word:
"Oh."
As if to say,
"Oh, so that was you two."
No surprise.
No emotion.
Just acknowledgement, and then moving on.
The girl felt the coldness in his response—
but still continued speaking.
"You really are okay, right?
If you need anything, or if you need help, you can tell me."
There was sincerity in her words— an honesty.
She wasn't just saying it out of politeness.
She truly meant it.
"That day, you helped us...
If possible, we'd like to return the favor.
Maybe in that way, we can repay the debt we owe you."
She paused after saying that—
Waiting now for his reply.
The guy stayed silent for a few seconds,
Then let out a quiet breath.
His eyes remained just as deep—
no hint of a smile, no flicker of emotion.
And then, with no embellishment,
in a tone cold and straightforward,
he said:
"I am alright. I don't need any help."
A response that was direct, flat, and clipped—
as if he had closed the conversation right then and there.
The girl paused for a moment, taking in his cold answer.
Then, she smiled slightly—
as if she had expected that very reply.
A gentle, girlish expression softened her face as she said,
"Okay..."
Her "okay" carried with it a strange lightness.
She asked again,
"You seem new around here?"
The man, expressionless and firm, replied in a completely straightforward manner—
"I am new to this city.
Right now, I'm looking for a place to stay.
That's why I'm sitting here."
Pointing toward the colony, he added,
"And that's why I came here."
His tone, his body language—
Everything conveyed that he had said all there was to say.
As if he wished she wouldn't ask anything more.
The girl tried to meet his gaze gently,
Then gestured toward the colony and said,
"We live here... in this colony."
The guy looked at her for a few moments—
a long, searching look.
In the meantime, her friend—
the one who had remained quiet the entire time—
turned and began walking away without saying a word.
The girl looked at her for a second and smiled,
then turned back toward him and said,
with a slight hesitation but a tone filled with warmth and familiarity—
"Come with me.
There's a flat available nearby...I'll show it to you, and I'll introduce you to the landlord too."
She began walking ahead, slowly,
lost in her own rhythm.
The guy remained where he was—
watching her as she walked away.
As if lost in deep thought...
as if making a decision.
A cool breeze passed by,
lightly tousling his hair.
And then, after standing there for a few quiet moments, he took a deep breath, picked up his bag, and without any haste, began walking after her.