Breathless Miles, Wordless Smiles

After an endless month, Lyra had returned to the country. However, upon her return, she was to perform a concert—the last one before coming to our city.

During this time, as Lyola, she had officially toured the world, sharing every moment with me. My summer vacation felt like a harmony spent with her.

Sometimes, while it was night here, the sun was just rising for her, and vice versa. Yet, I adjusted my entire sleep schedule to match hers, ensuring nothing hindered our conversations. Perhaps I was utterly blinded by love; I don't know. But this was what I wanted to do. 

It was as if our hearts refused to accept the borders of time zones. Even when the world slept around me, I stayed awake—because she was there, somewhere across the globe, and her voice was more comforting than dreams.

What I didn't want to do anymore was wait. I couldn't wait any longer.

So then, what did I do?

I bought a train ticket to the coastal city at the other end of the country, where Lyola would be performing. There was no more need for patience or tolerance.

I didn't think about what to tell my family. They had already gone to my grandparents' place for the summer vacation. I was alone at home anyway.

Nothing could stop me now, and I wanted to make this a surprise.

I first shared this plan with Noa. Noa was in our city and hadn't joined the tour. Her mother was already with Lyra.

Her initial response was, "Are you stupid?" But when I confidently demonstrated my "stupidity," as she put it, she sighed deeply and said, "She mentioned she'd go to the beach near their house after the concert." That's when I learned Lyra's father had a summer house there, and of course, he had allowed to stay there.

With my concert ticket, train ticket in hand, and a small backpack on my back, I was ready. As I boarded the train, my heart pounded with excitement. But it didn't matter. I had made my decision.

 Every passing station was a countdown. Every mile that disappeared beneath the wheels felt like shedding a layer of doubt. I wasn’t just going to see her—I was going to show her what she meant to me.

I arrived in the city in the afternoon, on the same day as the concert. As I stepped out of the station, the humid and oppressive air hit my face. The scent of salt was palpable.

I didn't have much time. Having come all this way, it would be a shame not to attend her concert, right?

When I reached the concert venue, I noticed it was quite crowded. People generally seemed excited.

I overheard some saying, "This is her first concert after the world tour," and "No one has performed here in a long time. I wonder why she chose this place?" Indeed, I had never asked Lyra about this.

In our evening conversations, she always mentioned she'd be here, but never explained why.

Upon entering, the coolness of the air conditioning greeted me. This time, I hadn't bought a front-row ticket. After all, we wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, right?

The concert started shortly after.

Seeing Lyola—my girlfriend—behind the hidden stage lights and blackout techniques filled me with immense pride. I was so happy for her. Behind that dark curtain, she was radiating light.

She was making people happy, spreading her prayer throughout the entire atmosphere.
And yet, I couldn’t help but feel like the happiest person in that hall wasn’t in the front row or screaming her name—it was me, quietly tucked in the shadows, watching the person I loved shine like she was born to.

She was singing two new songs we had written together. Even though there were professionals in every field, her insistence on following my decisions was a significant gesture.

And people loved these two new songs.

I was so happy. So happy that, with these new emotions, I had attended a concert for the first time in my life.

Watching her sing right in front of me, not being able to hug her, stroke her hair, or study her face, created a deep longing. 

There she was—so close, yet wrapped in a layer of light and distance. I wanted to press pause on the world and tell her everything, but all I could do was drink her in, quietly.

But it was almost time.

After the concert ended, I quickly headed for public transportation. My research was thorough. Noa had already given me the home address. 

The only issue was that I wasn't answering Lyra's video calls. The more I didn't answer, the more she called. The last message I sent was, "I'll get back to you."

I was getting closer. The bus had passed the hills.

At that moment, Lyra sent me a photo.

It was from the beach. She had taken it as the sun was slowly setting. She captioned it, "Isn't it beautiful?"

I got off the bus. I had seen the beach. At first, I started walking.

Walking felt hard.

Like every step was a negotiation between fear and hope.

I began to walk faster.

The voice in my head whispered her name again and again, until walking wasn't enough.

That wasn't enough either.

Because some moments are too sacred to be late for.

In the end, I found myself running.

My heart was pounding wildly. It was a scream to see her.

I got closer.

My phone was ringing. She was probably calling me again.

And finally...

From behind, I saw her silhouette in the distance. I had arrived.

I didn't care that my shoes were getting sandy. I started approaching from behind.

Her black hair was flowing backward with the sea breeze. She stood there, hands clasped behind her back, watching the sea and the sunset. She wore a light green dress that danced gently with the wind.

She must have heard my footsteps because she slowly turned around.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw me. Her mouth slowly opened, and her lips moved. For a second, the waves seemed to pause, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath. Time bent, curled around her silhouette, and in that eternal second, the world was just us.

"Y-Yuta?"

But before she could speak, I had already reached her. I stood right in front of her. Despite being embarrassed by my sweaty state, my heart was about to burst. I had done it.

A few months ago, I wouldn't have believed I'd do all this for a feeling. But I realized this "feeling" was more than just an emotion.

This feeling held thousands of emotions within it.

And each of these emotions beat in my heart for her. 

Longing, hope, fear, devotion—all of them harmonized into a single truth: she was my song, and I had finally reached the chorus.

I smiled.

"Surprise."