Megumi

The night was dull and viscous, as if it itself did not want to let sound through.

Four weeks—the time it takes for silence to cease being simply the absence of words. It becomes something heavy, oppressive, almost alive.

He walked through it alone.

No rush.
Without unnecessary movements.
But with that stubbornness that leaves no choice for either oneself or the world.

—

Somewhere far away you stood in the darkness, as if dissolved in it.

And yet - not completely.

—

The shadows trembled.

At first it's barely noticeable.
Then - more sharply.

It was as if someone had passed something across the surface of the water.

—

And he came out of them.

Megumi Fushiguro stopped a few steps away.

Didn't come up to me right away.

He didn't speak right away.

—

He just watched.

For a long time.

As if he was checking whether this was reality or another empty hope.

—

The wind did not move.
The night did not breathe.

—

And only after a moment that seemed too long, he said:

— …found it.

The voice was quiet.

But there was no relief in it.

—

He took a step closer.

—

• Four weeks.

Pause.

The words fell heavily, almost without sound.

—

• Are you serious?

—

And this time there was none of that irritated severity in him that you were used to.

There were none of the usual jokes.

—

Just tiredness.
And something deeper than that.

—

He stopped very close.

But it didn't last.

Didn't touch.

—

As if he wasn't sure...
that you won't disappear again right now.

—

— …

—

He looked at you as if he hadn't been looking for you all this time -
but he held on.

And now…
finally allowed myself to stop.