Flowers at the end of summer

"The first promise"

The train moved slowly through golden fields and green forests, leaving behind the bustling city where everything seemed urgent and ephemeral.
Ren leaned his forehead against the window glass, watching as open landscapes replaced gray buildings.
In his pocket, crumpled, he carried a letter: an invitation to spend the summer in a small village by the sea, where his aunt had lived alone for years.

He didn't expect much.
Maybe some beautiful scenery, some quiet afternoons.
What she didn't know was that she was about to encounter something—or someone—that would change the rhythm of her life forever.

**

The village station was little more than a wooden platform.
The June sun was beating down heavily on the world, and the air smelled of salt and freshly cut grass.

Ren went down with his small backpack and walked towards the exit.
Aunt Hana greeted him with a tight hug and the smell of lavender.

"You've grown so much!" he exclaimed, stroking his messy hair.

Ren smiled weakly.
He had left his home, his city, his temporary friends... Everything seemed so far away now.

**

Hana's house was on the hill, surrounded by fields of sunflowers that seemed to watch over the sky.

The first day passed slowly: setting up the room, helping in the kitchen, walking around.
Ren felt like a visitor in an alien world, like a dissonant note in a simple song.

Until he met her.

**

It was in the village market.

Ren awkwardly tripped over a box of fruit, causing a small mess of rolling apples.
He bent down to pick them up, muttering apologies.

And then, a small, quick hand helped him.

When he looked up, he saw her: a girl with light brown hair, eyes big as the summer sky, an easy, carefree smile.

"Are you new?" He asked, handing him an apple.

Ren nodded, a little dazed.

"I'm Aryan," she said, laughing at his awkwardness. Welcome to the village.

That was the first invisible thread that united them.
The first heartbeat in a story that was just beginning.

**

Aria was a whirlwind of energy.
In a couple of hours, I had already taken him to the best corners of the town: the beach hidden behind the dunes, the old wooden bridge that creaked under his feet, the bookstore where the books smelled of the sea and old paper.

She talked and laughed as if time didn't matter.
Ren, accustomed to silence and prudence, could only follow her, unable to do anything but smile.

As the sun began to set, Aria took him to the highest hill, where sunflowers swayed in the wind.

The sky burned in shades of orange and pink.

She sat down on the grass and held out a piece of red thread to him.

"In my family, we have a tradition," he said, smiling sideways.
When you make a summer promise, you tie it with a red thread.
That way you never forget it.

Ren looked at her, intrigued.

"What promise?"

Aria thought for a few seconds.
Then she looked him in the eye, it would be for the first time.

"Promise you won't forget this summer."
It doesn't matter what happens.

Ren felt something squeeze into his chest.
Not quite understanding why, he nodded.

Aria tied the thread to her pinky finger, then to hers.

And under the burning sky, they sealed their first promise.

A promise light as a summer breeze,
but as strong as the first heartbeat of something that was beginning to grow.

**

That night, Ren couldn't sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Aria's smile.
He felt the red thread, thin and warm, still squeezing his finger.

And, for the first time in a long time, he thought that maybe, just maybe, this summer could be different from all the previous ones.

A summer that I would not want to forget.