Chapter 1: The Dimming Light and Waning Warmth

Chapter 1: The Dimming Light and Waning Warmth

✿———✦———✿

"As a blostm yearneth for sunne's gleam, so doth my heorte seeketh thy warmth, for wit thou art the lyft and lifebloom of my world."

My name is Minato Kazuaki, 22 years of age. During my high school years, I often envisioned a future replete with optimism—graduating from university with ease, securing my dream job, and navigating life with tranquility. However, when I ultimately confronted the realities of adulthood following my graduation, I discovered a starkly different truth. Responsibilities, work, and the inescapable routines weighed heavily upon me, ensnaring me in a relentless cycle of exhaustion.

Being the CTO at my uncle's animation company is a dream of mine, yet it hath also devolved into a nightmare I had never anticipated. Each day, I am compelled to dart from one meeting to the next, facing ever-looming deadlines and contending with a seemingly endless stream of challenges. And though I am merely 22, there art moments I feel as if I bear the burdens of an elderly soul, as though I alone am shouldering the weight of this world.

It feels akin to leaping from a hopeful, bewildered student into the role of an individual burdened by significant responsibilities. With each task I undertake, there's an unsettling sensation that something vital is amiss. My life appears to be traversing a predetermined path, devoid of the freedom to steer my own course. All of this feels like a plot twist that never belonged in the storyboard of my life. Is this what they call adulthood?

Amidst the chaos of my daily existence, I find myself longing for the days when everything seemed uncomplicated. A time when I could indulge in video games without guilt or watch anime without the incessant reminders of pending duties. I realize now how precious those moments were, when each day appeared to brim with limitless possibilities.

Today is different. With the exhaustion mounting upon my shoulders, I resolve to grant myself a brief respite. As I make my way home, I pause momentarily in the Nankin-Machi district of Sannomiya, an area that always evokes fond memories of my childhood. The enticing aromas of street food and the lively chatter of visitors revive recollections of joyous times.

After parking my car, I step outside and take in my surroundings. Thankfully, the scenery of this city manages to refresh my weary mind. "The ambiance of this city is indeed splendid," I murmur, stifling a yawn. The cheerful sounds of children at play and the tantalizing scent of takoyaki remind me of a more carefree youth.

Should I take a moment to refresh myself? Or perhaps drop by the café where Chinatsu works? I ponder.

As the evening sun begins to dip, I decide to head to the café where Chinatsu is employed. There's a persistent emptiness that seems to accompany me every twilight, as if there's an unfillable void within me. The doctor hath suggested this might stem from work—related stress, and perhaps that's accurate. I often feel like a robot programmed to labor ceaselessly.

Yet, since childhood, I have always felt an odd disconnection during twilight. It is as though something constrains me, haunting me with unvoiced memories. Strangely enough, as night falls, I find my energy restored—perhaps it is because the day hath concluded, and with it, the burdens begin to dissipate.

Upon arriving in front of the café, my gaze lands upon Chinatsu, seated outside on a slightly worn wooden bench. She appears solitary, lost in her own thoughts. In her hand, a slowly burning cigarette releases wisps of smoke into the cool evening air.

Chinatsu... the woman I have known since before I could utter a single word. She hath been both neighbor and friend, often caring for me when my parents were preoccupied with work. Now, I sense something is amiss. The vacant look in her eyes and the tension etched on her face fill me with concern. I am aware she is grappling with something profound, yet thus far, I remain unaware of its nature.

I approach her, intending to seize the cigarette from her hand before she can take another drag. "Chinatsu-san, thou knowest this is not good for thee, especially considering thy current—"I begin, yet my sentence falters upon witnessing the unfamiliar expression on her face.

She appears to be struggling with her own feelings, and I can sense the tension in the air between us. Without further thought, I snatch the cigarette away and extinguish it beneath my foot.

A minute of silence envelops us, as if we art at a loss for words. However, I cast aside my ego and inquire, "Chinatsu-san, why art thou smoking?" as I draw closer.

"...Kazu-kun? You seem to be fadin’ away, huh? Transparent..."

"Dost thou take me for a spirit, wandering 'twixt worlds unseen?? I prithee, take a breather, for thou look'st wearied. Nay, change not the subject! Forswear thy smoking, I bid thee—dost thou not recall that thy health is of utmost import?"

She merely casts a fleeting glance my way, a faint smile tracing her weary face. "Kazu-kun... sometimes, when the warmth is gone, all you can do is wait for everything to fade away, right?"

I find myself at a loss for a response. Her words tease at the edges of my consciousness, as if she is voicing something deeper than merely the act of smoking. All I know is that this is not the Chinatsu I am familiar with. "I shall wait until thy shift doth end. I shall drive thee home." I state, striving to extend the slightest semblance of support I can offer.

✿———✦———✿

Night hath settled as I await her outside the café in my old sedan, a relic that somehow still runs. The evening air feels frigid, yet within my heart, a small flame flickers, attempting to provide warmth for Chinatsu. Finally, she emerges, her expression somewhat more at ease, though I can still discern the fatigue in her eyes.

We exchange little conversation during the drive. The atmosphere is peculiar, almost as if something is poised to erupt. She merely gazes out the window, watching the flickering city lights, and I can sense the discomfort lingering between us. I wish to speak, yet the words art caught in my throat.

As we arrive in front of her house, the moment transforms everything. There, right before our eyes, her husband, Nichihara Miharu, steps out of a car. But he is not alone. Beside him stands a young woman, perhaps my age—or even younger, resembling a student still in college.

I hear Chinatsu's breath hitch. Her fists clench tightly in her lap, and in an instant, I comprehend what is about to unfold. She flings open the car door and strides swiftly toward them.

Miharu appears taken aback but dost not attempt to evade her. Chinatsu stands before him, and I can see the fury etched across her features. She raises her hand, as if to slap him, yet halts mid-motion. I know something within her hath shattered, and not in a manner that can be mended.

Without uttering a word, she grasps her wedding ring, removes it from her finger, and lets it fall before Miharu. "I've had enough," she states softly, nearly a whisper audible only to those of us nearby.

She rushes inside, hastily packing her belongings without hesitation. I, still standing there, can only stare at Miharu, who remains silent. I have known him since childhood. This man hath been like an older brother to me, yet now... what I see before me is a devastation that defies explanation.

"Miharu-san..." my voice barely escapes. I cannot believe this is happening right before my eyes.

Beside him, the young woman becomes increasingly conspicuous. Her hair hangs untamed, disheveled beneath the hoodie she hastily wears to conceal her face. Her body shakes, and her breath comes in gasps as if she is struggling to breathe. For a fleeting moment, I wish to inquire if she is alright—I know how it feels to suffer from asthma—but my words falter. Instead, I extend the inhaler I often carry.

She grasps it with trembling hands, but the inhaler slips from her grasp before she can secure it. I immediately bend down to retrieve it, carefully handing it back, ensuring this time she holds it firmly.

Suddenly, Chinatsu emerges from her home, carrying several of her belongings. The most striking among them is a refracting telescope and a few cosmology books—I know these to be her hobbies.

Without saying a word to them, she reaches for my hand. "Let's go, Kazu-kun. We need to get out of here," she commands, her voice firm yet tinged with bitterness.

I hesitate for a moment, searching for a way to mend the situation. "Chinatsu-san, perhaps we could talk to—"

"Minato Kazuaki, take me away," she speaks softly, but with unwavering certainty.

I stand there, still reeling from the sight I've just witnessed. Miharu-san, the man I've always regarded as an older brother, the one who nearly always accompanied Chinatsu while watching over me as a child, hath wrought this destruction. I yearn to speak, to resolve this amicably, yet seeing Chinatsu—pregnant and appearing so fragile—I find I have no choice.

I nod slowly, then climb into my car and start the engine. Without uttering another word, we drive away from that house, leaving behind all the lies.

"Where art we headed?" I inquire as we cruise along, a hint of anxiety lacing my tone. My mind races with numerous questions, yet I understand I cannot press too hard.

"To our usual park," she replies without glancing back. Her voice sounds light,

"To the usual park," she replied without glancing back. Her voice was light, as if nothing had transpired. Yet, I could sense a turmoil within her, a struggle yearning to break free.

"The park?" I asked, a hint of confusion lacing my tone. Why would she want to go to the park at night after everything that had just happened? However, I refrained from pressing her further, choosing instead to acquiesce to her wishes.

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, my mind spiraling as I teetered between the weight of her sorrow and my hope to see her smile again. In my heart, I longed for her to feel at ease enough to share, yet I understood she might not be ready for that.

Upon arriving at the park, the coolness of the night enveloped us. I felt out of place, unsure of what to say or do. Chinatsu appeared tranquil, yet her eyes were vacant. She retrieved her refracting telescope and began gazing at the stars.

"Look, Kazu-kun. The stars are really beautiful tonight," she said with a smile, as if everything were perfectly fine. I knew she was trying valiantly to conceal her true feelings, but that smile seemed merely a façade.

"Yes, they're quite lovely," I replied, even as my heart felt heavy. I wished to inquire further, to understand her feelings, yet the words remained lodged in my throat. How could I dare ask when she was striving so hard to appear strong?

She continued to scan the heaven, and I sat beside her, acutely aware of the tension swirling between us. She seemed utterly absorbed, as if searching for answers in the dark sky. But deep within her heart, I knew she was hurting, and I felt like an outsider, unsure how to reach out.

"Chinatsu-san, art thou—" I began, but my voice faltered. Hesitation gripped me as I looked at her, searching for the courage to continue.

"I'm fine, Kazu-kun," she interjected quickly, as if she knew precisely what I intended to ask. She smiled, yet it failed to reach her eyes. "Just tryin’ to enjoy the night."

The night stretched long, and we sank into a profound silence. I yearned to share my own pain, but I also felt lost amid the whirlwind of recent events.

We sat quietly on a park bench, accompanied solely by the gentle whispers of the night breeze. Chinatsu continued to observe the sky through her refracting telescope, while I remained by her side, at a loss for words.

Then, she began to speak of the stars, recounting the constellations she could see. Her voice was soft and animated, as if diverting her thoughts from all that had transpired. I listened, attempting to connect in a way that perhaps didn't demand much.

"I've always loved nights like this," she said, immersing herself in memories. "When I can see the stars and feel at peace."

"Yes, the stars art indeed soothing," I responded, feeling foolish for not being able to contribute anything meaningful.

Silence enveloped us once more, and I felt increasingly estranged in her presence. Chinatsu, though feigning composure, was indeed wrestling with her inner demons. Yet, how could I reassure her of my support if she remained closed off?

After a moment, Chinatsu lowered her refracting telescope and gazed at me with eyes full of hope. "Kazu-kun, you should try lookin’ at the stars. It feels calmin’, doesn't it?"

"Oh... me?" I hesitated, scratching the back of my head, feeling somewhat awkward. "I-I don't really know much about stars, Chinatsu-san..."

"It's okay. Just give it a try," she urged with a forced smile, striving to lighten the mood.

"Ah, well... mayhap so," I replied, my uncertainty lingering. I had no idea how to find solace in such a moment.

Her smile was encouraging, its warmth easing my own discomfort. "Come on, take a look through the refractor. There are so many beautiful stars tonight."

I nodded, complying with her request. Carefully, I aimed her refracting telescope at the sky, attempting to locate the constellations she hath not mentioned.

"There's Orion over there," she pointed out. "And that one... could be Canis Major."

"Wow, verily, I behold it!" I exclaimed, captivated by the clarity of the stars. Even though my mood was heavy, the beauty of the night sky momentarily allowed me to forget all that had happened.

"Pretty, isn't it?" she asked, and for a fleeting moment, her smile seemed genuine. "The stars are always there, even when we can't see them."

"The stars... art fairest," I replied briefly, striving to offer a comment despite my lingering hesitance. I lowered the refracting telescope, returning them to Chinatsu.

She accepted them with a slight smile. "Yes, it's always lovely to see them. It feels... like we're not alone."

I merely nodded, unsure how to respond further. Inwardly, I pondered what Chinatsu might be thinking, yet I lacked the courage to ask. Perhaps this was not the right moment.

After a while, we returned to the car, our feelings a complicated mix that was difficult to articulate. I started the engine, but words continued to elude me as I tried to fill the silence between us. It felt as though an invisible chasm separated us, despite our proximity.

"Kazu-kun..." Chinatsu's voice suddenly broke the stillness.

I turned to her, awaiting her continuation.

"Can I... stay at your place for a few days?" she asked softly, staring out at the road, unable to meet my gaze.

I was taken aback by her request. "Huh? T-Thou want to stay at my apartment?"

She nodded slowly. "I... I can't go back to my parents' house. I don't want them to know what happened. My dad has a history of heart attacks; I'm scared they'd be too shocked..."

"Oh..." I bit my lip, striving to comprehend her feelings. This was undoubtedly a challenging situation for her. "Of course, Chinatsu-san. Thou canst stay at my apartment for as long as thou needst."

"Thank you, Kazu-kun..." she replied quietly, a note of relief in her voice, though the pain still lingered beneath. We fell silent again, and I could only stare at the road ahead, attempting to gather my jumbled thoughts.

With a whirl of mixed emotions, I drove toward my apartment, still unable to believe everything that had just transpired.