The morning in Evermere was quiet again. The sun rose over the hills, painting the sky light orange. The smell of bread came from Kaori's bakery, filling the air with warmth. Haruto had already finished feeding the chickens and was walking down the path that led to the river.
He liked mornings like this. They were simple and calm. The sound of the water always made him feel at peace.
When he reached the bridge, he leaned on the wooden rail and watched the river flow. The water was so clear that he could see small fish swimming below. A few flowers floated by, probably from someone's garden upstream.
For a moment, the sunlight hit the river just right, and the surface seemed to glow. It was faint—just a soft shimmer—but it reminded Haruto of something Kaori had told him once. She said the river was called Mere, and that it had protected Evermere for hundreds of years.
He didn't really believe magic. But as he watched the light dance on the water, a small part of him wondered if maybe… there was something real behind those stories.
Later that day, Haruto helped at the bakery. Kaori's husband, Ren, was outside chopping wood while Kaori kneaded dough inside. The shop smelled of butter and sugar, and the sound of the oven door opening and closing made the room feel alive.
"Could you pass me the flour, Haruto?" Kaori asked.
"Sure thing," he said, handing her the bag. He wiped his hands on his apron, smiling at how busy the place had become lately.
Ren came in a few minutes later, carrying a basket of firewood. "We'll need to bake more tonight," he said. "Old Mrs. Sato is bringing her grandchildren tomorrow."
Kaori laughed softly. "Then we'll make extra sweet rolls."
Their voices were warm, like the sound of family. Haruto liked that. Even though he wasn't born here, moments like this made him feel like he belonged.
In the afternoon, Haruto took a short walk through the town. Children were playing near the square, and a few older men sat by the fountain talking about the weather. A woman hung laundry from a window, and the wind carried the soft scent of soap.
Everything in Evermere moved slowly, but it never felt boring. It felt alive in a quiet way.
He stopped by the small shrine near the riverbank. It was simple—just a stone structure with a wooden roof and a bowl of water placed in front. Inside was a smooth stone carved with the symbol of a wave. Someone had left fresh flowers beside it.
Haruto stared at it for a while.
He didn't know why, but when the wind blew, the water in the bowl rippled—even though there wasn't much wind that day. He reached out his hand, just a little, and the ripples moved again, like something underneath had brushed the surface.
He stepped back quickly, feeling a small chill. Then he laughed to himself. "Maybe, I'm just imagining things," he said quietly.
Still, as he walked home, he kept thinking about it.
That night, the sky was cloudy, and the sound of crickets filled the air. Haruto sat by the window of his small room, looking out toward the river. He could see the faint glow of lanterns from the town and the outline of the bridge.
The river shimmered again, just for a second—like moonlight dancing across it, even though there wasn't much wind no moon that night.
Haruto blinked, and it was gone.
He leaned back against his chair and sighed softly. "Evermere sure is a strange place," he whispered, smiling a little.
Outside, the river kept flowing quietly—steady and calm—as if it was listening.