Oda Sakunosuke

It happened in Yokohama, at the hour when the city is washed by rain. You stood under the awning of a closed coffee shop, clutching a wet bag of books to your chest. Water trickled down the glass, and the world seemed like a blur of watercolors.

"Can I help you? " The voice sounded soft but firm.

You turned around and saw him. Light hair, tired but incredibly kind eyes, and a white cloak that he instantly removed from his shoulders.

"You'll catch a cold, " Oda said, draping the cloth over your shoulders without even asking. His fingers accidentally brushed against your arm—cold, but the contact sent shivers down your spine.

You wanted to refuse, but he had already raised the collar of his jacket, looking at the gloomy sky.

— The rain will last a long time. Let me walk you to the metro. I'm in no hurry.

You walked alongside him. He didn't say anything unnecessary, simply held the umbrella so that not a single drop would fall on your head. His steps were measured, and in his eyes was the deep stillness of a man accustomed to caring, but not accustomed to being cared for.

At the entrance to the metro, you suddenly realized that you didn’t want to leave.

"What's your name? " you asked, clutching the edge of his coat.

He smiled slightly—that sad, warm smile that melts the ice.

"Oda. And you... wouldn't you like some coffee?" He nodded toward the 24-hour cafe across the street. "They serve the best stew in town. Warms you up like someone else's coat."

You laughed—easy and ringing—and for the first time that evening, a glimmer of surprise flickered in his tired eyes. As if he'd just discovered something important.

At a table by the window, while the rain lashed against the glass, he talked about books, about people searching for meaning, about how sometimes it's important to just be there. You listened, mesmerized, and suddenly caught yourself thinking: this huge, stern-looking man with the hands of a killer speaks so tenderly, as if he's afraid to break every word.

When the rain stopped, he took off the napkin and wrote a number on it.

"If you ever want to talk about trivial things... I know how to keep quiet. But I know how to listen even better."