Haruto fell asleep late that night. He opened his diary once, then closed it again. Sometimes, certain moments cannot be written down; they can only be felt. In front of his eyes, the same library corner kept appearing where Rin had held her pen and gone still as if some word rising from her heart had gotten lost before reaching the page.
The next morning there was a bit of darkness on the campus because clouds covered Tokyo. For Haruto, this was the perfect weather for sketching. But today his steps didn't go toward the library. His heart whispered that maybe he would find Rin there again in the same posture with the same sadness. Sometimes listening to your heart feels foolish, but when it came to Rin, ignoring his heart felt impossible.
He stopped at the library gate. Inside, there was silence, only the faint sound of pages turning. Haruto's footsteps softened. His sketchbook was in his hand like a shield he might need. Maybe Rin would come she wouldn't. Maybe she didn't even remember him. But that didn't matter to Haruto. Meeting her mattered.
He sat at his usual window corner. A few minutes passed then a few more. He opened his sketchbook but the pencil resisted. His heart felt glued somewhere else. Then the door opened and a light breeze came in. Haruto lifted his face.
Rin had entered.
She had the same soft expression today, too, with no pressure, only a little tiredness, a little emptiness. But there was a slight redness under her eyes today as if she hadn't slept last night. Rin didn't go to the poetry section this time. She walked directly toward the window corner. Haruto held his breath.
She chose a seat and quietly sat down. Then she turned and looked at Haruto with a little courage.
You came again?
Haruto was a little surprised when a little awkward smile appeared.
Yes. I come here often. It's my favourite spot.
Rin nodded slightly, as if she had accepted that answer.
I thought maybe you were here only for yesterday.
Haruto saw the same emptiness in her eyes that he had seen the first time but today she looked more tired.
No I'm here often. You come rarely.
Yes only sometimes.
They were silent for a while. The silence between them wasn't artificial it was comfortable. As if neither of them needed to talk. Haruto began drawing random lines with his pencil. Rin was watching.
Are you an artist?
No I just practice.
Practice what?
Understanding people Haruto said gently.
Rin looked directly at him for a moment. It was a look without any guard. Haruto felt as if in that moment he wasn't just a quiet boy but someone who could read the fatigue written deep in Rin's eyes.
Do you observe people?
Yes.
So you observe me too?
Haruto paused his pencil. The question was simple yet heavy.
Sometimes.
How do I look? What do I seem like?
Haruto closed his sketchbook. For the first time, he felt Rin wasn't expecting an answer but a confirmation. As if she were trying to understand herself.
You look a little sad. But the kind of sadness where a person doesn't scream only goes quiet.
Rin took a slow breath as if that sentence had sunk inside her.
And?
And you get tired. A lot.
Rin's lips curved slightly into a smile that wasn't fully formed. Then she opened her notebook. The page with the poetry line she had written yesterday was still open. Haruto felt a small pinch in his chest.
Rin lifted her pencil and began writing on a new page. Haruto kept his sketchbook open but his eyes were stuck on her fingertips. As if she were holding some invisible thread.
After a while, Rin turned the page. Haruto asked quietly.
What did you write?
Rin didn't answer. Instead, she asked.
Since when do you come here?
From before. Since I needed peace.
And do you find peace?
Haruto thought for a moment.
Sometimes I don't. But sometimes I do. Like today.
Rin processed his words. She closed her notebook and looked directly at Haruto.
Haruto. Your name is Haruto right?
Yes. And you are Rin.
Rin gave a small smile.
Alright. That will be easy to remember.
Haruto felt a warm sensation inside. For the first time, Rin had repeated his name with such clarity. As if she wanted to register that moment inside herself.
Are you free today?
Haruto didn't expect that question.
Yes. Why?
I have to go somewhere. I don't want to go alone.
Haruto answered instantly.
Let's go.
Rin picked up her bag from the table. Haruto stood up too. They walked outside together. The clouds had grown darker. The breeze is colder. Rin pulled her sleeves a little tighter.
Where do we go?
Garden section.
Why there?
Just want to watch a little silence. Will you come?
Haruto took a deep breath.
Wherever you want.
The campus garden was empty only a few yellow leaves swaying in the wind. Rin chose a bench and sat down. Haruto sat beside her. Their feet barely touched the ground.
Rin spoke.
Sometimes I feel like the world is going too slow. And I am going even slower.
Haruto asked quietly.
Meaning?
Meaning some things inside me just stop. As if my brain refuses to hold them.
Haruto looked at her eyes. The same lost shine was there.
Are you okay?
Rin didn't answer. Only let out a long exhale.
You know, Haruto, sometimes I'm scared I'll forget everything. Everything. But then certain things get stuck in the heart. Like some unknown melody.
Or some unknown person.
Haruto inhaled sharply. The moment was heavy, subtle, and emotional. But he said nothing. Sometimes silence is the correct response.
Rin spoke softly.
Thank you. For coming.
I wouldn't have been anywhere else.
Rin took a long pause then said.
Alright. See you tomorrow?
Haruto answered instantly.
Yes. Of course.
Rin picked up her bag, gave one last soft smile, the kind that held more honesty than warmth, and then slowly walked toward the other side of the garden.
Haruto remained seated on the bench.
The breeze had grown colder the leaves now falling and forming slow circles on the ground. But inside Haruto, something warm was spreading. As if some empty space he didn't even know he had had finally filled a little.
He looked up at the sky, clouds heavy, rain ready to fall.
But for the first time, Haruto felt a bit of lightness inside.
He softly whispered to himself
Tomorrow. Yes. Maybe things will start to change for real tomorrow.