The cold air bit at Miyazaki's cheeks as she hurried along the empty street. Each breath came out in visible puffs, and her shoes scuffed softly against the pavement. Her mind was a whirlwind of worry, anticipation, and… something she could not yet name.
"He has to be here. He has to…"
Her steps quickened, each one more urgent than the last.
"The quiet park… that park not known by many… the one behind the library…"
Her thoughts repeated like a mantra, a lifeline guiding her forward. She dodged pedestrians, skirted around small groups of students leaving clubs, and felt her heartbeat accelerate as her destination drew nearer.
The small, almost hidden park came into view, surrounded by tall trees whose bare branches swayed in the winter breeze. The swings creaked slightly, and the playground slides glimmered faintly in the weak winter sunlight.
Miyazaki slowed for only a moment, scanning the area. Then she broke into a run. Her scarf flapped behind her, the cold air burning her lungs, but she didn't care. All that mattered was finding him.
"Jousuke… I hope you're okay…"
At the edge of the park, a lone silhouette stood near a bench. Miyazaki's pace faltered slightly, her chest tightening.
"Jousuke…? Is that you?" she called, her voice barely steady.
The figure turned slightly, brushing hair from their face, but Miyazaki's heart sank as she realized it wasn't him.
"Oh… not… Jousuke…" she muttered under her breath, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.
Her eyes scanned again and caught another figure sitting on a swing. She ran forward, hope reigniting.
"Jousuke…?" she asked, stepping closer, her hands slightly trembling.
This one turned as well, adjusting a bag beside them. Again, Miyazaki felt her hope falter—this wasn't him either.
She drew in a sharp breath, forcing herself to calm down. "Does… anyone know if someone's here?" she asked the second figure, her voice steadier this time.
The person looked up at her, eyes clear, and nodded. "There's someone… at the far end of the park," they said quietly.
Miyazaki's heart skipped. That simple information made her pulse race even faster. She nodded in thanks, her determination sharpening.
Her eyes immediately searched toward the far end, where shadows stretched across the ground. And there—against the soft winter light, a third silhouette waited.
Her chest tightened, her hands gripping her scarf, and her breath caught in her throat.
"Could it really be… Jousuke?"
The wind rustled through the bare branches, carrying with it the faint creak of a swing. Miyazaki's gaze never wavered.
She took a careful step forward, then another. The distance seemed to stretch endlessly, but she couldn't stop now.
The scarf she had given him at Christmas fluttered lightly around the neck of the figure.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she approached, the world narrowing down to that one person, that one moment, that one possibility.
Miyazaki's lips parted, ready to call his name again, her heart hammering wildly.
"Jousuke…?"
But the silhouette remained still, shadowed by the late afternoon sun, leaving only the wind and the faint rustling of branches to mark the silence between them.