“You’re staring,” Haruki said without looking up from his phone, a small smile on his lips.
“You’re working late again tonight?” she asked.
End of Part 1
He picked up his bag of vegetables, gave her one last, unreadable look, and walked into the gallery. The door chimed softly. The amber light swallowed him whole.
“I… I was just looking,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. kimi wa yasashiku netorareru 1
That evening, walking back to the station alone, Sachi stopped in front of a small gallery she’d never noticed before. Tucked between a laundromat and a shuttered ramen shop, its windows glowed with a soft, amber light. A single painting was displayed in the window: a woman’s back, half-turned, standing at the edge of an unseen sea. Her hair was undone, blowing in a wind that Sachi could almost feel.
He didn’t introduce himself as an artist, but Sachi noticed the paint stains on his cuffs, the faint smell of turpentine and cedar. He didn’t ask her name, didn’t invite her inside. He simply stood there, letting the silence breathe, until she found herself saying, “I’ve never seen this gallery before.” “You’re staring,” Haruki said without looking up from
Sachi stood there for a long time. When she finally walked to the station, her train arrived, and she boarded it, and she went home to the apartment she shared with Haruki. He was still at work. She made tea, sat on the couch, and opened her book. But the words blurred. All she could see was the woman’s back, her hair in the wind, and the sea that never arrived.