chapter 19: the weight of time

---

The following day arrived with a slow, hesitant promise. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across Kaori's room. She had spent the night in restless slumber, her dreams haunted by Ryo's face, his voice calling out to her, reaching for her even though he was gone. She woke with the same heaviness in her chest, the same quiet ache in her soul. But today was different. Today, she was going to meet Shun.

As she stood in front of the mirror, brushing through her tangled hair, Kaori found herself hesitating. She had put on a simple sweater and jeans, nothing too fancy, nothing that screamed she was trying to move on. But the reflection staring back at her was unfamiliar—fragile, fragile in a way she hadn't felt before. The girl who looked back at her had a sad smile, eyes tinged with the weight of a love lost and the uncertainty of a future she couldn't yet see.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Shun.

"I'm outside. Are you ready?"

Kaori's fingers hovered over the screen for a moment. It was simple, a mundane question, but it felt loaded with expectations. What did he expect from her? Did he think she was healed? Did he think she was ready to move on? Could she even pretend that she was?

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the thoughts aside and replied.

"I'll be down in a minute."

The words came out faster than she had expected, and for the briefest moment, she allowed herself to feel something—hope, maybe. Maybe the ache in her chest wouldn't always be this sharp. Maybe one day, it would dull into something bearable.

---

When Kaori stepped outside, she found Shun standing by his car, leaning against it casually. He looked the same as he always did—his features soft, his eyes bright with kindness. Yet, when he saw her, his smile faltered just for a moment, as if he was unsure of what to expect. He straightened up, the gentle concern on his face settling into something more cautious.

"Kaori," he said, his voice steady but low. "Are you okay?"

The question hung in the air, simple yet suffocating. Kaori nodded, though the answer wasn't as certain as it appeared.

"I'm okay," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

The smile faded from Shun's face, and he gave a small nod, not pressing her further. Instead, he motioned to the empty street. "Let's take a walk, then."

They walked in silence at first, the sound of their footsteps on the pavement the only noise between them. The world around them was alive with the soft hum of life—children laughing in the distance, the gentle rustling of the leaves as a breeze passed by, the distant rumble of cars. It felt so normal, so mundane, and yet, for Kaori, it felt like she was living in a dream.

She couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow disconnected from everything. She was walking with Shun, a person she cared about, but it felt like she was walking beside a ghost—someone who had only known her in fragments, in pieces, never in the fullness of who she was, who she had been with Ryo.

"How have you been, Kaori?" Shun asked, breaking the silence, his tone warm but uncertain. "I know things have been tough... I just want to make sure you're okay."

Kaori looked at him, his expression sincere, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite read. She could feel his concern, and part of her appreciated it, but another part of her felt guilty for letting him see her this way—broken, incomplete, haunted.

"I don't know," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to be okay anymore, Shun. Everything feels like... it's falling apart."

Shun stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His gaze softened, and for the first time, Kaori saw the depth of his care.

"You don't have to be okay right now," he said gently. "I'm not asking you to be. I just want you to know that you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here. Whenever you need me."

Kaori's throat tightened, and for a moment, she could feel the tears threatening to spill. She quickly blinked them back, not wanting to appear weak, not wanting him to see just how much she was struggling.

But Shun stepped closer, his presence comforting in a way she hadn't realized she needed. He reached out tentatively, his hand brushing against hers, the touch warm and grounding. "Kaori," he whispered, his voice low and filled with tenderness. "You don't have to pretend to be strong for me. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here, no matter what."

His words wrapped around her like a blanket, both soothing and terrifying at the same time. She had spent so long shutting everyone out, so long living in the shadow of her grief, that she had forgotten what it felt like to lean on someone. To let someone else share in her pain.

But standing there with Shun, feeling the weight of his sincerity, Kaori felt something inside her stir. Something tentative, something fragile, but real.

"I don't know if I can let go of Ryo," she whispered, the words finally tumbling out, raw and unfiltered. "I don't know if I can move on. It feels like... like I'm betraying him if I even think about it."

Shun didn't speak at first. He simply stood there, letting the silence linger between them, and then he slowly reached for her hand, holding it gently in his own.

"You don't have to forget him, Kaori," he said softly. "You don't have to move on all at once. Healing isn't about forgetting. It's about learning to live with the pain, and allowing yourself to find peace again, even if it takes time. You're allowed to grieve, and you're allowed to heal in your own way."

The sincerity in his voice broke through her walls, and for the first time in a long while, Kaori allowed herself to feel the comfort of someone else's presence. She squeezed his hand, the connection between them real and unspoken.

"I'm not asking you to forget, Kaori. I just want to be here for you while you figure it out."

The tears came then, soft and gentle at first, as Kaori leaned into Shun, letting the weight of her grief spill over. She cried for Ryo, for the love they had shared, for the future that would never come. But she also cried for herself, for the girl who had lost so much and was trying to learn how to live again.

Shun didn't say anything more. He simply held her, letting her cry. He didn't rush her, didn't tell her it would be okay. He just let her be, offering the comfort of his presence, the warmth of his touch.

And for the first time since Ryo's death, Kaori felt something break inside her. But it wasn't a part of her heart that had shattered. It was a wall. A wall that she had built to keep everyone at a distance, to protect herself from feeling anything at all.

That wall began to crumble, piece by piece, and with it, Kaori felt a small spark of something—hope, maybe. Not the kind that promised healing overnight, but the kind that said it was okay to take the first step.

One step at a time.

---

End of Chapter 19.