"Maybe... maybe you got upset by what I said," she murmured after a few seconds of silence. "But deep down... I know you realize I'm right."
As she spoke, she leaned gently against my shoulder, her hand wrapping delicately around my arm, as if searching for a little comfort amid the storm.
"You know... I was trapped in a small cycle of depression," she continued in a low, almost confessional voice. "But just when I thought there was no way out... I dreamed of my father. Or maybe it wasn't a dream at all... but the echo of an old memory."
I didn't answer right away.
I just listened—silent, dazed—still struggling to grasp everything that had unfolded.
Would this day never end?
Were there still more surprises waiting in the shadows?
"In that dream... you were there," she said with a wistful smile. "You were just a little boy, holding an old, worn-out book. I remember the cover said something like 'Calamity... God'... or something close to that.
And I was so angry... because you wouldn't come and play with me."
I glanced sideways at her. Her words stirred something faint, distant... but real.
"I screamed, 'Dad! Haruki is so boring! He's always reading those weird books!'
Do you remember that?"
I nodded, the ghost of a smile forming at the corner of my lips.
"Yeah... how could I forget," I replied, my voice carrying a rare warmth. "That day, I was reading a very important part. And you wouldn't stop insisting we play that game... where you were the trapped princess and I was the prince who had to save you.
And my grandfather... he was the evil villain, right?"
"Exactly!" she said, laughing softly—a sound like a memory coming back to life.
"And in the end, my father said, 'Haruki, if you come and play with us, I'll give you two new books from my collection.'"
"And I... I ran like crazy," I added, the memory blooming vividly in my mind.
"I grabbed a stick from the ground, raised it like a sword, and shouted, 'I will defeat this dragon and rescue my beloved princess!'"
We both laughed quietly.
For a moment, the present—the confusion, the pain—faded into the background.
And that fragment of the past... shone through like a fragile ray of light.
"You know... all of this is my fault," she said, her voice breaking into a sigh heavy with guilt.
"After my father died, I let the grief take over me... and I forgot about you.
I let them humiliate you... let you feel alone, as if you had no one left."
"It doesn't matter anymore," I answered softly, my gaze fixed somewhere distant.
"That's all in the past."
Even as I said the words, a quiet ache bloomed inside me—wondering, just for a second, how different everything might have been if she had stayed by my side during those lost years.
"If I had stayed with you..." she whispered, "maybe today we'd be building a company as successful as my father's...
Or maybe we'd be traveling across the country, laughing, remembering him together."
"Maybe," I said, my voice stripped of emotion.
"But reality... is different.
You weren't there.
And I don't blame you for it."
I stood up from the bench, the words hanging between us like something unfinished.
"But because you weren't there... I met someone.
Someone who, without even trying, became my reason to keep moving forward.
She showed me that even in the darkest days... a light can still shine through.
Her smile... lit up my sadness.
She healed a part of me I didn't even know was broken."
Silence fell between us, deep and fragile.
Some things are too heavy for words.
"I should get going... I have to find Mr. Hanabira," I said, shifting my weight. Then, glancing at her, I asked, "You'll be alright... right?"
"Yeah, don't worry," she answered with a small, trembling smile. "I'm fine... I'd like to keep talking, but I get it. Go... make things right with that girl, Haruki."
Her voice tried to be strong, but it cracked faintly beneath the weight of her sadness.
Still, I turned away—needing to find Ailany.
I walked without looking back... until my grandfather's words came rushing back to me.
I stopped.
I turned around.
And there she was... sitting alone, with tears silently streaming down her face.
She tried to hide them behind a broken smile, but the sadness was too deep, too raw to mask.
I couldn't leave her like that.
I retraced my steps, approached slowly, and spoke in a voice low and certain.
"You don't have to lie to me.
I'll always be here when you need me...
That's what my grandfather asked of me.
And I intend to keep that promise."
"No... really, I'm fine," she whispered, clumsily wiping her tears, forcing another fragile smile.
I sat down beside her again.
Without saying anything, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
She leaned into my chest, small and vulnerable, like a child seeking shelter from the storm.
My mind was on the verge of collapsing.
Too much.
Too much sadness.
Too much confusion.
All I wanted... was for this day to end.
Just that.
For everything... to end.
"I know you're not fine," I murmured, holding her a little tighter.
"So it's okay.
I'll stay here... as long as you need."
She curled closer, clinging to the warmth she could find amid the wreckage of the day.
"And... the girl? Aren't you going to find her?"
"I will," I said softly.
"But later.
Like you said...
maybe the best thing right now...
is to give her a little time.
When she's ready, I'll talk to her... and apologize properly."