Taro woke up with eyes that felt like they were being held open with needles.
Red, swollen, dry.It didn't feel like he had slept.It felt like his body had simply shut down for a short while and then forced itself awake again.
He sat up slowly. His throat was dry. His lips were cracked. His stomach felt hollow, like it had collapsed in on itself. He couldn't remember the last time he ate more than a few bites. Everything tasted like dust lately.
He pushed off the blanket and stood. The room felt colder than usual, even with the heater humming weakly in the corner. The winter outside was slipping into their home through the walls.
When he stepped into the hallway, he expected — or maybe hoped — to hear someone awake. His father clearing his throat. His mother preparing tea. The TV murmuring the morning news.
But the house was silent.
He checked the clock.
4:03 a.m.
Of course.
Everyone else was asleep.Everyone else had the luxury of rest.
Taro let out a quiet breath, grabbed his coat, and put on his shoes. His fingers trembled when he tried to zip the coat up. He told himself it was because of the cold. He knew it wasn't only that.
He slipped outside.
The cold slapped him immediately — the kind of sharp, unforgiving cold that crept through fabric and settled in bones. Snow fell in soft spirals, catching the dim glow of the streetlights. The world looked too still for morning. More like time had paused sometime during the night, and he was the only one left to witness the afterimage.
He walked without direction at first, letting his legs choose the path. Eventually, they brought him to the street where Chiyo lived.
Taro's steps slowed.
He looked up.
One of the windows upstairs was lit — her room. A faint yellow glow spilled through the curtains, flickering slightly.
Taro frowned.
Why would they be awake?At this hour?There were no rituals left after the funeral. No relatives visiting. No late-night traditions for a girl who didn't get a chance to grow older.
Unless…
Unless they simply couldn't sleep, either.
Taro swallowed, feeling something sink in his chest. He looked away quickly, afraid that if he stared too long, something inside that window would stare back.
He didn't want to imagine her parents awake and crying in silence. He didn't want to imagine them sorting through her belongings. He didn't want to imagine anything at all.
He kept walking.
But behind him, inside that lit room, a shadow passed across the curtains.
Taro didn't see it.
He reached the bridge at the edge of town. The railing was covered in frost that sparkled under the moonlight. When he leaned over to look at the canal below, he froze.
The entire surface was solid ice.No movement.No flowing water.Just a thick, glass-like sheet stretching all the way through the canal.
"This isn't normal," he whispered."Not here. Not this fast."
He felt his breath fog sharply, like his lungs didn't want the air anymore.
Yes, winters got cold.But this?This wasn't winter.This felt like something else — something pressing down on the town like a silent warning.
He forced himself to keep walking.
Soon, he reached Bontan Park, the place where most of his memories lived.
Snow covered everything — the swings, the benches, the slide they used to race down as kids. The trees swayed slightly in the wind, branches heavy with frost.
Taro stopped at the entrance, staring.
He could almost hear their laughter echoing through the cold air:
Akira yelling at him to run faster.Chiyo complaining when they both cheated in tag.Chinatsu telling them she was tired of their stupidity.Hikari dragging a stray cat into her jacket.
These memories hit him like a warm wave crashing into ice.
He let out a small laugh — the first real sound he had made all day — and stepped deeper into the park.
Then he heard something.
A faint, repeated thumping.
He stiffened.
It came from the back of the park, near the trees.
He moved quietly, stepping between patches of snow to avoid crunching. He crouched near a bush and peeked through.
And he froze.
Akira stood there alone, in the dark, punching a tree wrapped in an old cloth. His movements were sloppy but relentless, as if he wasn't trying to practice — but punish himself.
Taro's breath caught.
He looked at Akira's phone lying on the ground with the screen glowing.
A stopwatch was running.
03:58:1303:58:1403:58:15
Four hours.
Almost four hours.
Taro couldn't believe it.
His friend — the one who joked the loudest, the one who argued with Chiyo constantly, the one who pretended to be strong even when he wasn't — had been here all night.
Alone.Punching.Crying silently between breaths.Breaking himself apart to feel anything other than guilt.
Taro stepped forward for a moment — then stopped.
What would he even say?"Go home"?"It'll be okay"?Nothing would make sense right now.
So he did nothing.
He watched quietly, and somehow… he felt a small warmth in his chest. Like a connection he thought he'd lost.
"Good for you, Akira," he whispered."Trying to get over it."
He turned around and walked away, for the first time feeling something slightly lighter.
But when he disappeared into the trees, Akira's strength finally gave out.
His knees hit the snow.He gasped for breath like he'd been drowning.He looked around desperately.
"Water… I need water…"
He had forgotten to bring any.He had forgotten everything.
Then he saw it — a warm water bottle sitting beside the tree, steam rising from the top.
A note taped to it:
By your best friend.
Akira stared for a long moment before a tired smile appeared.
"…Thank you, Taro," he whispered, unaware that Taro hadn't meant to leave it there at all.
Taro kept walking toward school, his breath fogging with every exhale. The snow fell heavier now, softer but thicker. The sky looked like it hadn't changed color in days.
As he approached the school gates, he noticed a girl sitting on a swing.
His chest tightened.
"Chiyo…?"
He stepped closer.
The swing moved gently.
Empty.
No one was there.
A crow perched above it let out a sharp cry, startling him. He turned toward the sound — the library building.
His mind flickered.
He remembered Chiyo laughing as she pulled him and Akira toward the library years ago.
"I'm recommending a book to you two! You better read it!"
Akira groaned. "Bro, I can't even study properly. Why would I read?"
Taro laughed. "Same, honestly."
Chiyo had puffed her cheeks. "Just read it once or I'll kill both of you!"
Taro stared at the library door now, breathing slowly.
A thought flicked in his mind:
That book… she wanted us to read it…
He suddenly ran home.
He burst inside, startling his mother.
"Taro? What—"
"I'm going to school," he said, already rushing to his room.
His mother blinked, then softened.She hadn't seen him move with purpose in days.
He dressed quickly and gulped down breakfast without tasting it.As he rushed out, he forgot his lunch entirely.
His mother sighed."I'll have your brother take it later!"
Taro cycled to school. The cold burned his cheeks.
He reached the library too early — the door locked, the halls empty. So he sat on the floor outside, hugging his knees, staring blankly at nothing.
His mind kept repeating:
What book? What did she want me to find? Why that book?
After half an hour, the library teacher arrived, startled to see him.
"Taro? Why are you sitting here at this hour?"
He didn't answer at first.She tapped him lightly on the head.
"Hey. What are you staring at? Why so lost?"
He blinked, shook himself back to reality."I wanted a book."
She sighed but smiled. "Come inside. You scared me."
Inside, the air smelled of paper and dust — the comforting smell of stories and old memories. It hurt to breathe it in.
"What book?" she asked, shelving returns.
"Winter Diaries, Part 1. By… Gaurav."
She froze.
"Oh… that one."
He looked at her, confused."What's wrong?"
She shook her head."Nothing. It's just… not many students read it. Only Chiyo. And occasionally someone else. She used to check it out often."
Her voice softened suddenly."You'll find it in the last corner shelf."
Taro walked to the corner slowly, heart pounding. He found the book, worn at the edges from use, and checked it out.
"Two-day loan," the teacher said gently.
He nodded."Thank you."
In his empty classroom, Taro sat at his desk, exhaled deeply, and opened the book.
The first page described a simple love story.He turned another page.A winter diary entry.
Then something slipped out.
A folded paper.
Taro's heart froze.
His fingers trembled as he picked it up.
He opened it carefully…and saw Chiyo's handwriting.
The familiar curve of letters.The gentle slant she always wrote with.
But the message…
The message made his breathing stop entirely.
He read it twice.Three times.Four.
His hands shook violently.
"How…" he whispered.
"How could this happen…?"
The paper fluttered in his hands as his mind spiraled.
This wasn't just grief anymore.This wasn't just sadness.
This was a warning.
A message from someone who knew she was going to die.
And Taro felt something inside him shatter beyond repair.