chapter 18: a spark I. the darkness
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The days dragged on like a slow, unrelenting tide, each one blending into the next. Kaori had become a ghost of herself, moving through life with an automatic rhythm, each action a mechanical response to the world around her. Her eyes, once full of life and warmth, now carried the weight of unspeakable sorrow, a depth of loss that no one could truly understand—not even Shun.
Shun's calls had become more frequent, his concern palpable. He always asked her how she was, always offered to meet up, to talk. But every time she heard his voice, she was reminded of Ryo. She was reminded of the boy who had meant everything to her, who had taken up space in her heart and in her life, and who now was gone.
No matter how kind Shun was, no matter how gentle his words, she couldn't escape the feeling that she was betraying Ryo by allowing herself to be comforted. The guilt weighed on her chest, heavy and suffocating, like a constant reminder that she wasn't allowed to move forward. How could she? Ryo had been her everything. And now that he was gone, she was left adrift.
One afternoon, as she sat at her desk, staring at the empty space where Ryo's letters used to sit, Kaori received another message from Shun. This time, however, it wasn't a text, but a voice message. It was long, over a minute long, and Kaori hesitated before hitting play. She could feel the weight of it, could feel Shun's quiet desperation and longing through the screen.
"Kaori," Shun's voice came through, steady but filled with emotion. "I don't know if I can fix things. I don't know if I can make the pain go away. But I need you to know that I care. You're not alone. And I'll be here for you, no matter how long it takes, no matter how hard it gets. I won't give up on you, Kaori."
Her heart clenched painfully in her chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to break down. Her shoulders trembled as the tears began to fall, hot and fast, like an uncontrollable flood. She curled into herself, clutching her knees to her chest, as the memories of Ryo came rushing back—his smile, his voice, the way he had held her when she was scared. She could still feel his touch, faint but lingering in her soul.
The pain of losing him felt sharper now, more intense. Her heart seemed to tear open, and no amount of time or distance could heal it. She wanted him back. She wanted to hear his laugh again, to feel his presence beside her. But it was impossible. He was gone, and all she had left were the memories that tortured her day and night.
But as the tears continued to fall, something shifted within her. A faint flicker of something—a tiny spark, barely perceptible—glimmered in the corner of her heart. It wasn't a cure. It wasn't a solution. But it was something. The smallest glimmer of hope. And it came from Shun's voice.
She wasn't ready to let go of Ryo, not yet. But maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself to lean on someone. Maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself to be comforted.
After a long time, Kaori wiped her tears and took a shaky breath. She stared at the phone screen, Shun's message still playing softly in the background. Slowly, as if it were the hardest thing she had ever done, she typed a reply.
"I... I don't know if I'm ready, Shun. But... thank you. For not giving up on me."
Her fingers trembled as she hit send, and she couldn't help but feel exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn't in years. But beneath the vulnerability, there was something else. Something that felt like the beginning of healing. The beginning of learning to live again, even in the wake of such unbearable loss.
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It wasn't long before Shun replied. His message was simple, but it carried so much warmth, so much sincerity.
"I'll wait as long as it takes, Kaori. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."
Kaori closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath as she leaned back in her chair. She wasn't ready. Not yet. But the weight in her chest, the suffocating grief that had been suffusing every inch of her being, had softened just a little. A tiny sliver of peace had begun to slip through the cracks in her heart.
She didn't know if she would ever be able to love again, not in the way she had loved Ryo. She didn't know if she would ever stop feeling like part of her was missing. But maybe, just maybe, she could let herself experience life again. Maybe she could open herself up to the possibility of something new—something that didn't erase Ryo, but that gave her space to breathe.
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Later that evening, Kaori sat by her window, watching the sky as the sun began to set. The soft orange and pink hues painted the horizon, the fading light reminding her of how fragile everything truly was. It felt like a sign—like the world was still turning, still moving forward, even when everything felt like it was falling apart.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, finding another message from Shun. This time, it wasn't a voice message, but a simple question.
"Do you want to go for a walk tomorrow?"
Kaori stared at the message for a long time, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She had told herself she wasn't ready, that she wasn't prepared to face the world again. But the message lingered in her mind, and she realized, with a strange sense of clarity, that she didn't have to have it all figured out. She didn't have to have all the answers.
Maybe she didn't need to be fixed. Maybe all she needed was time. And maybe, just maybe, she could take the first step by saying yes.
After a long pause, she typed a response, her fingers trembling slightly as she hit send.
"Yeah... I'd like that."
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End of Chapter 18.