Farewell Waltz

Raindrops gently touched my skin as my consciousness slowly returned, a lingering heaviness pressing against my chest, as though I had been drifting between worlds. Cold droplets trailed along my body, pulling me back into reality. First, a faint hum…

Then, a familiar, high-pitched piano melody echoed deep in my mind, like a distant whisper from the past.

Was this… Chopin’s Farewell Waltz?

The melody lingered in my thoughts, a soft whisper reverberating through the depths of my memory. A shiver traced down my spine, and a dull ache settled in my chest, as if the music itself had reached inside me, unearthing something long buried. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, yet it stirred something within me—a nostalgic, sorrowful calling that unearthed an old recollection.

A rainy day from my childhood…

My mother stood by the large window, smiling softly as the worn gramophone played its gentle tune. The rhythmic patter of rain against the glass harmonized with the music, making time itself feel suspended in that moment. Outside, the drizzle fell lightly, contrasting with the warmth of the room—a nostalgic atmosphere, delicate yet profound.

With my small fingers, I traced shapes in the fogged-up glass. My mother’s voice broke the silence:

"The sound of rain merging with music… doesn’t it make you feel at peace, Haru? Like it’s not an ending, but a new beginning?"

Each note of the piano blended seamlessly with the rhythm of the rain, creating an intangible flow that filled the room. As the droplets landed on the windowpane, they left behind transparent streaks, much like the lingering presence of music in the air—like something unseen but deeply felt.

Taking a sip from her coffee, my mother continued: "Every ending opens the door to a new story. Look, the rain is falling, but soon the earth will come alive again. Music is the same… even when it stops, its echo lingers within us. Just like some people who leave our lives. They don’t disappear completely. Their presence, like a melody, resonates in the depths of our soul. Some farewells are silent, but their memory never fades."

Back then, I hadn’t fully understood what she meant. Actually, I still don’t think I truly do.

But now, as the same melody played in my ears, an inexplicable sense of absence, a lingering loss, stirred within me.

If every farewell was a new beginning… where did that leave me now? Was I mourning something that had ended, or was I unknowingly standing at the threshold of something new?

Perhaps, as my mother had said, some things never truly disappear. But were these traces meant to guide us—or merely haunt us?

These questions echoed in my mind. I wasn’t sure if I was lost in a memory or a dream. Yet here I was, reliving it all as though it had been waiting to resurface. As Chopin’s notes still resonated in my ears, the sound of that long-ago rain intertwined with the one falling around me now.

Holding my breath, I opened my eyes. First, silhouettes… then shadows… then, slowly, the world came into focus. I found myself collapsed onto a cold, unyielding surface. With sluggish movements, I struggled to sit up, my body still numb. Finally regaining my balance, I realized I was in a small park, surrounded by trees, seated on a rain-soaked bench.

Lifting my head, I took in my surroundings. Wet stone pathways glistened under the dim streetlights, their flickering glow casting long shadows on the pale façades of gray buildings in the distance. The sharp scent of damp earth filled the air, thick and heavy.

This place… it was unfamiliar. Yet, somehow, it felt exactly as it should be, as if I had stepped into the lingering echoes of a forgotten memory, a déjà vu woven into the fabric of reality.

My thoughts swirled in disarray as I instinctively lowered my head. My vision was still hazy, but I straightened up, attempting to refocus. The rain moved with the wind, swirling around me as though dancing in the air. And the sky above me…

It wasn’t as I remembered it.

The heavens stretched out like a vast canvas painted in hues of violet, crimson, and pale white. The clouds drifted in an unnatural motion, their tremulous forms seeming to defy the flow of time itself. The world felt both real and surreal all at once.

And then—I saw them.

A group of high school girls, huddled under umbrellas, laughing as they hurried along the path. Their cheerful voices rang through the air as they dodged puddles, their giggles blending with the piano notes in the background. The entire scene unfolded like a frame from an old film, perfectly synchronized with the rain.

But then—something shifted. The air thickened, the rhythm of the rain seemed to falter for just a moment, and a strange hush spread through the space. An unspoken tension rippled across the scene, subtle yet undeniable, as if reality itself had momentarily hesitated.

One girl stopped. Then another. Their laughter faltered. Their eyes locked onto me.

And in that moment—

The music unraveled, dispersing in waves like ripples in water, fading into nothingness before being swallowed whole by silence.

Everything seemed to freeze. Time stretched, thickened, and warped around me. The girls’ expressions shifted. The carefree energy that had surrounded them vanished, replaced by something unreadable.

Their eyes narrowed, as if they recognized me… but at the same time, as if they didn’t. A silent tension stretched between us, their movements hesitant. Then, slowly, one of the girls turned away, then another, their shoulders stiff as they exchanged uncertain glances. They began walking again, their pace quicker than before. Yet, even as they moved forward, some of them glanced back—once, twice—as if checking to see if I was still there.

A strange unease settled in my chest. The moment felt unnatural, suspended in something colder than the rain itself. I was trapped within it—a still figure in a frozen frame.

Why? Why did it feel so distant—so unbearably cold?

The raindrops still falling upon my skin, their once gentle touch now carrying a biting chill that seeped into my bones.

But now, I was more than shivering.