1: At Our Usual Park

They say memory is like a dream—clear one moment, and gone the next.
But the park... the park had always been there. Just the way it was.
Until that day.

---

“Ugh… I totally bombed that test today.”

On the way home from school, Tom looked utterly defeated.
His steps were heavy, and his shoulders drooped as if all the energy had been drained from him.
His cheeks looked hollow, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“It’s okay. It’s just a test, right? You can do better next time!”

Walking beside him, Rena offered words of encouragement.
Her voice was bright and cheerful, as if trying to lift his sunken spirits, even just a little.
Her easygoing nature was the perfect contrast to Tom’s tendency to worry, creating a comfortable balance between the two of them.

“As someone who wants to be a novelist, getting that kind of score in language arts…
it’s just unacceptable. Totally unacceptable.”

“But your art project was amazing! That creative… pfft… cow mask…”

“It just popped into my head, you know?
I thought it’d be funny if a character in a manga looked like that.”

“Well, I could never come up with something like that.
I kind of respect it. Just a little, okay?”

“Man… Why is life so hard sometimes? I really envy you.”

Tom let out an even deeper sigh. A storm of doubt and anxiety swirled inside his heart.

“Envy me? What for?” Rena jumped on his words.

“Sometimes the way you speak—it hits right on the mark.
Your insight, your way with words… Maybe you’re the one who’s more suited to be a novelist.”

Shaking her head with energy, Rena said,

“I want to be a fashion designer! I’ve told you that before, haven’t I?
I’m the one who wants to borrow your unique sense of style!”

“Sigh… Nothing ever goes the way I want.”

“Hey… wanna stop by? That park again?”

Rena slowed her pace a little, whispering with her head down.

“Hmm… I think I’ll pass today. I’m just not in the mood.”

“That’s exactly why you should go! We’ve got to enjoy life, right? Fun is justice!”

“That’s what I mean about you… your scale is so… huge, or something.”

Rena’s cheerful words brought a slight smile to Tom’s face.
Her brightness had begun to light a small, quiet flame in his heart.

---

The same old park. The same old bench.
After school, Tom often made a detour to this spot— it had become his usual place to tinker with ideas for his novel.

The park was vast, with a massive fountain and even whimsical rides that resembled a merry-go-round— things you wouldn’t see just anywhere.

But Tom had no interest in any of that.
Instead, he sat quietly, flipping through the pages of his imagination until every drop of creativity had been squeezed out of him.

“Here you go—tuna sandwich, as always. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

Rena returned from a nearby food stand and plopped down beside him.

“You’re one to talk. You always get rice balls. Well, at least you switch up the filling.”

Tom took a bite of his sandwich, his face saying here we go again.

“Exactly. I’m working my way through all 57 types—one by one!”

“Hmm… I wonder if there’s a secret flavor hidden in there.”

“A secret?”

“You know, like those bonus mystery items. Something special, like... I dunno—maybe one with a stick of gum hidden inside? No, wait, that’s kind of lame…”

“Ahaha! You’re always thinking about the weirdest stuff, Tom. Yup, that totally tracks.
Maybe I should start learning from your weirdness.”

A gentle breeze brushed through Rena’s hair. Her golden strands shimmered in the light, momentarily stealing Tom’s gaze—even from his precious tuna sandwich.
The usual bench in the usual park felt different somehow—like something inside him had been quietly stirred.

---

“I think I’ll head home now. I’m pretty tired today. Will you stay a bit longer?”

“Eh? But we just got here. And you haven’t even touched your milk…”

“T-Today… my stomach’s acting up, that’s all.
And besides, I still need to brainstorm some story ideas…”

Rena looked down and whispered softly—too softly for Tom to hear:

(Is it really that important… more important than me?)

“Huh? Did you say something?”

“Just kidding. Anyway, that milk? I bought it, so it’s mine, okay?”

“What? You said you were treating me! 
You know how much I love milk—especially sipping it slowly with a skinny straw after a hot bath! It’s basically my ritual!”

There was a trace of frustration in Tom’s voice, probably from the stress of the test earlier.

“Well, I changed my mind! And you still haven’t even read the email I sent you—in English!”

“I know you like English, but I don’t! I’m not going to waste time translating everything!”

“What the hell!? Fine—whatever!”

Rena stood up, snatched the milk bottle beside him, and shouted:

“Stupid Tom!!”

As she ran past him, her face turned away, Tom felt a brief, bitter drizzle brush against his cheek.

“…Rain, huh. Ugh… could I be any more dramatic…”

He looked up at the sky and muttered. 
Rena’s parting tears had pierced deeper than he expected, leaving behind a sorrow no words could quite express.