The school's rooftop at that time embraced a clear sky, where the colors of evening were reflected in soft shades of blue and gray, and the air whispered gently, as if it knew that tired hearts needed some quiet to breathe. (7)
Ahmed, who was used to finding solace in drawing, put his sketchbook aside when his eyes fell upon Misaki. She was there... sitting alone on the wooden bench, having finally given up her headphones. Her eyes looked as if they were speaking in her place. A broken gaze toward the horizon, and tears fighting not to fall.
Ahmed hesitated for a moment.
Would his approach be an invasion of her space? Or was it just a response to an inner voice that refused to let sadness pass without extending a hand to it?
With a stillness like that rooftop's breeze, he approached her and sat down beside her. He didn't say anything at first.
He looked at the sky with her, as if trying to show her how the light was still there, even if a temporary cloud had covered it.
Then he turned to her, and his voice barely pierced the silence, but it was gentle enough to reach her heart:
"Are you okay? You look sad."
Misaki slowly raised her head, her solitary tears still clinging to her cheeks.
She looked at him, into his calm eyes, at his strange yet familiar features, then she shyly shook her head no, and looked down again... as if the words were too heavy to be spoken, as if she was not yet able to allow herself to be seen completely.
But she wasn't alone this time... there was someone who shared her silence, and read her sadness without asking for much.