The waves rolled in gently, each one leaving behind a soft hiss as it kissed the shore and pulled away again. The orange light had started to fade, giving way to a calm twilight glow.
I walked closer, brushing off the sand from my shoes before stopping a few steps from her. Hana looked up at me, the corner of her lips curling into that easy smile she always wore — the kind that made it hard to tell what she was really thinking.
“You look surprised,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Don’t tell me you come here often too?”
“Not really,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck. “Just… needed to clear my head, I guess.”
She laughed softly, her voice almost blending with the sound of the waves. “That’s rare. I thought you only knew how to nap and skip responsibilities.”
“Hey— I’m capable of deep thoughts too, you know.”
“Uh-huh. Like what to eat for dinner?”
“Exactly.”
We both chuckled.
For a moment, it didn’t feel like school, or responsibilities, or the noise of the day mattered. It was just me, Hana, and the sea that refused to stop breathing.
I sat beside her on the steps, leaving just enough space so it wouldn’t feel awkward — but close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo when the wind blew our way. She handed me a can of juice without looking.
“Here. I got an extra one.”
“Oh, thanks.” I accepted it. The aluminum was still cool, a little condensation dripping onto my fingers.
“Don’t think too much of it,” she added quickly, glancing sideways. “It’s just… I accidentally bought two.”
“Right,” I said, hiding a grin. “Totally accidental.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. The faint red on her cheeks said enough.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The only sounds were the waves and the faint buzz of cicadas somewhere far behind us. The kind of silence that didn’t feel heavy — just natural.
Then Hana broke it.
“Hey, Hayashi… do you ever think about what you’ll be doing ten years from now?”
I blinked. “Ten years?”
“Yeah.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Like… what kind of person you’ll become, what kind of life you’ll have. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” I said quietly. “I just… haven’t thought that far.”
“Hmm. Figures.”
“Hey!”
“I mean, you don’t even think about tomorrow, do you?”
“…You’re not wrong.”
She laughed again, and I found myself smiling too. Somehow, it was easy with her.
The sky dimmed into soft blue and purple. The first stars began to appear, shimmering faintly above the horizon. Hana’s expression softened as she watched the sea.
“My mom used to bring me here,” she said after a while. “We’d sit just like this, waiting for the waves to glow. Sometimes they’d sparkle when the plankton light up.”
“Bioluminescence?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s rare, but… beautiful when it happens. It’s like the sea is breathing light.”
Her voice turned gentle, distant — like she was speaking more to the memory than to me.
I didn’t say anything. I just listened.
“You know,” she continued, “I used to think the ocean was alive. That it listened when you talked to it.”
“Maybe it does,” I said before I could stop myself.
She looked at me, eyes slightly wide. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I mean… even when no one’s around, the waves keep coming. Like it’s answering something.”
She smiled again, faint but sincere. “You’re more poetic than I thought.”
“Don’t spread that around,” I muttered, embarrassed.
“I won’t,” she said softly. “It’ll be our secret.”
Something about the way she said “our” made my chest feel weirdly tight. Not in a bad way — just… like I wanted to remember this exact second forever.
Hana stood up then, brushing off the sand from her skirt. “C’mon.”
“Where?”
“Let’s walk by the water. It’s not that cold yet.”
I hesitated, but she was already walking ahead, her shoes dangling from her hand. The waves lapped at her feet, catching the sunset’s last reflection.
I followed. The sand was cool now, and the water left faint patterns around our steps before washing them away.
“You’re really gonna ruin your socks, you know,” I said.
“They’ll dry.”
“You’re a menace.”
She laughed. “Then stop following me.”
“I would, but you’d probably get swept away by the tide.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
She splashed a bit of water at me without warning. I dodged too late — the hem of my pants got soaked.
“Hana!”
Her laugh echoed across the beach, soft and bright. I couldn’t even stay mad.
It felt like something from a distant summer memory — one of those evenings that pass quietly but stay with you forever.
When the waves reached higher, we went back to the steps, sitting again with wet feet and stupid smiles. The stars were clearer now, scattered like glitter across the night sky.
“Hayashi.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for staying.”
I turned to look at her. She wasn’t smiling this time, but her eyes — they looked peaceful.
“I didn’t really plan to,” I admitted. “But… I’m glad I did.”
She nodded, her gaze drifting back to the horizon. “Me too.”
A breeze passed between us, gentle and cool. Her hair brushed against my shoulder.
And for some reason, I didn’t move away.
Just like that, we stayed there — two silhouettes by the sea, watching the world slowly fall into night.
Somewhere inside me, I hoped this moment would never end.
But deep down, I knew things like this — peaceful, fleeting things — never lasted.
Still, for tonight, that was enough.