On a cold morning, the wind slapped my face as I walked along Yamanote Street. The pale sunlight wasn't enough to warm the city, which seemed to be slowly awakening from a long night. I stumbled, trying to discard empty cigarette packs along the roadside. In that moment, everything around me felt engulfed in chaos, and the small room I returned to each night was more than just a shelter; it was a sanctuary that amplified my loneliness.

Main Character: My name is Yumi. A Japanese girl living in a large city swallowed by silence, despite all the noise surrounding me. My eyes are weary from lack of sleep, my arms stiff from the cold. I remember how my mother always said, "Life waits for no one." But I stopped waiting for anything a long time ago.

As I walk, I remember that last conversation with him, when I asked him not to look too far into the future. I don't want to live in a world full of false hopes. I told him, with a trembling voice:

Yumi: "Don’t love the unsettling cries that break the quiet. Let’s live only in the moment… don’t think about the future… just call my name… touch me and feel my presence… that’s all I need from you…”

Those words were an expression of everything inside me. I wanted to stay with him in that moment, to avoid thinking about everything that might happen later. I knew I had made a mistake somewhere, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe those small mistakes made his voice fade slowly, until it was barely audible.

At night, I would return to that small room, where the walls felt like they were closing in on me. The room was a lonely place, devoid of any emotions, yet I felt addicted to that solitude. In the long nights, when I heard the sound of German cars speeding down the road and police cars wailing, I imagined that somewhere, life continued despite everything. But for me, life was merely fragments of distorted memories.

Yumi (muttering to herself): "Maybe all I wanted in this life was to be acknowledged…”

The days accumulate, and every morning the same scenario repeats: I toss an empty cigarette pack onto the road and walk down Yamanote Street, trying to recall the smell of those cigarettes that connected us. Everything around me has become unbearably exhausting, even the voice I once loved has become distorted, as if I were the reason it broke.

I passed through the train gate that night. The faint blue light didn’t even cast my shadow, as if I had become invisible to the world. I remembered those days when I’d ride the train beside him, and nothing mattered except having him by my side. But now… not even his shadow remains with me.

As I sank into my thoughts, a police car sped past, its loud siren disrupting the quiet. I was used to that sound, but that night it felt different. I felt like the world was slowly crumbling around me.

Yumi (murmuring again): "Please… just call my name one more time…”

The ticking clock echoed in my ears, reminding me of every moment we shared. My small room, filled with modest belongings—an old bed, a table with worn-out books, and faded posters on the walls—mirrored my deteriorating mental state, amplifying my solitude each night.

I sat by the window, gazing at the city streets under the pale moonlight, feeling the chill seep into my room. Lost in thoughts of our moments together, I whispered softly:

Yumi (softly): "Where are you now? Can you hear me?"

Though I expected no reply, asking brought a fleeting sense of comfort. His voice was vivid in my memory, almost as if I could still hear him.

Once, as we walked down Yamanote Street, he paused at a small cigarette shop, holding a pack of "Seven Stars." Smiling wearily, he’d say:

Him: "You know, these cigarettes could kill me someday."

Yumi: "Yes, and I also know you can’t give them up."

I laughed, knowing they were taking a toll on him. That exchange reflected our relationship's dynamic; like his cigarettes, we were each other’s addiction—perhaps slowly destroying each other.

Late nights alone in my room played our memories like an endless film reel. Each whisper, look, and unfinished sentence clung to my mind, refusing to fade.

Yumi (muttering to herself): "Why can’t I let you go? Why does everything remind me of you?"

Haunted by these memories, I realized they were ingrained in me—sharp fragments lodged in my heart. Revisiting each moment, even the painful ones, felt like the only way I could keep going.

One night, as I walked down a dark street, the flashing lights and blaring siren of a police car drew near. For a moment, fear gripped me, but I realized it wasn’t me they were after—just the shadows of my memories.

Pausing by the subway entrance under dim lights, I felt as if I’d become part of the surrounding emptiness. A mere shadow caught between past and present, life and death.

Yumi (in a faint voice): "Please, just come back to me… call my name once more…"

My plea was a desperate whisper into the silence, heard by no one but the surrounding emptiness.

......................

The dim morning light slipped through the window, breaking the stillness of the small room. Everything felt like it was wrapping me in a quiet whisper, reminding me I was alone, with no one to rescue me. The cold air stung my face, and the sight of Yamanote Street replayed before me, lifeless. The reflection in the window showed a weary face I could barely recognize.

Lying on the hard floor, surrounded by empty cigarette boxes and scattered ashes, my small room felt like it was conspiring to heighten my isolation. Memories of a person who had long left my life were all I had left.

Yumi (in a desperate whisper): "Why can’t I escape? Why does this feeling keep haunting me?"

Near the train station, dim lights cast pale shadows on the platform. I stood before the entrance, my reflection in the glass looking utterly exhausted. The thought of suicide quietly seeped in, telling me that maybe I would finally find the peace I'd always sought.

Yumi (in a trembling voice): "Is this the answer? To disappear?"

Memories (man’s voice): "Please, don’t get attached to me... I’m just an illusion."

His words echoed like a curse that wouldn’t end, piercing through my heart.

The night enveloped the city in a heavy silence, penetrating deep into my soul, as though even nature sensed the weight I bore. Streetlights cast faint shadows, and the city felt like it was in a quiet mourning. I wandered alone, burdened by memories and haunted by his lingering words, which echoed as though his spirit still lived within me.

Arriving at an old stone bridge, I gazed at the dark water reflecting my weary face. His words replayed in my mind, a haunting tattoo I couldn’t erase.

Memories (his sorrowful voice): "Don’t cling to what isn’t real… Don’t call my name; it ended long ago."

A sharp ache filled my chest, and I realized I had been living in an illusion of my own making. I stood at the bridge’s edge, feeling the calmness around me as if the universe waited for my final moment. Just then, I felt an invisible pull, holding me back.

Yumi (in a choked voice): "If you're there, why won’t you let me go?"

There was no reply—just silence. Yet I knew I wasn’t ready to end things. Slowly, I turned away from the edge, my face wet with tears but my heart perhaps holding a sliver of hope.

Back in my cold apartment, I sat in the familiar corner, surrounded by the faint haze of cigarette smoke. I knew loneliness would remain, but I also realized I had the strength to endure, even if I was broken.

...The End...

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

Dear readers,

As we reach the conclusion of this journey, I want to take a moment to reflect on the weight of farewell that permeates the final chapter. The night envelops the city, and in that silence, it echoes the profound solitude we all sometimes feel. Our protagonist walks through empty streets, burdened by memories that cling like shadows, highlighting the struggle against overwhelming grief.

The imagery of the old stone bridge becomes a poignant metaphor for the threshold between despair and hope. In contemplating the dark waters below, our character confronts the haunting reality of loss and the longing for peace. It's a reminder that we all face moments where we teeter on the edge, questioning our place in the world.

The repetition of the past, represented by the echo of his words, speaks to the permanence of certain memories that can feel like tattoos on our souls—impossible to erase, yet deeply informative of who we are. It’s a journey of realization, acknowledging that pain is an intrinsic part of life, and perhaps, in that acceptance, we find a glimmer of resilience.

As our protagonist retreats from the brink, turning away from despair, it resonates with a collective yearning we all share: the desire to survive, even when broken. This chapter serves as a reminder that while we may feel isolated in our struggles, there is strength in continuing to navigate our paths, seeking light even in the darkest of times.

Thank you for sharing this emotional landscape with me. I hope the story has inspired you to find solace in your own memories, to embrace your own struggles, and to recognize that in every ending, there lies the potential for a new beginning.

With heartfelt appreciation,

Wàn Xhí Ràng