I returned to the City after a long absence. After finishing my work, my younger sister and I were about to leave when, on our way back, I stopped by an old park—a place that seemed to reflect the image of a futuristic city yet carried a hint of gloom and mystery. That day, I had only 30 minutes before my flight, so we decided to visit the park.

My younger sister and I stepped into the play area. The park gatekeeper opened the gate to reveal a giant mechanical bird—its size comparable to that of an adult—silently waiting in the square. No one was controlling it, yet it was as if it already knew we would come. I climbed aboard first, while my sister hesitated behind me. The gatekeeper helped her up, but for some reason, as soon as she got on, the bird seemed to gather momentum and soared into the sky, carrying me away from the ground. My younger sister was left behind, small and bewildered. I could only glance back.

At first, the biting wind left me shivering. I clutched the cold metal of the bird as it flew, feeling it like a lifeless machine. But then, after a short while… warmth began to spread from somewhere. I felt that warmth as if it were coming from a real human being. Unconsciously, I tightened my grip, looked up, and whispered:

“I want to fly even higher…”

The mechanical bird said nothing, only nodding as it carried me higher into the silent sky. Clouds drifted gently around me, and suddenly everything became strangely serene. I no longer felt lonely; instead, I was enveloped by warmth and safety. Though it didn’t respond with words, I sensed that it was listening—almost in a very human way.

When it noticed me trembling from the cold, the bird gently landed and transformed into a young man. I accepted this change calmly, without any surprise; he walked with me through the park as if we were close friends. His hand remained in mine, radiating warmth. For the first time in months, I felt truly heard—not through words, but simply by having him there beside me.

When it was time to leave, I turned and asked:

“What is your name?”

The being remained silent. But as we both walked along a path with a red wall, I offhandedly said:

“Then… I’ll call you RED, alright?”

He stopped and looked at me with eyes that seemed to understand everything. For the first time, he answered—his deep voice resonating softly like the wind:

“That’s right. I am RED.”

I bid farewell to RED right there, promising that I would return one day soon.

⸻

Months later, I came back to the City with a heart fluttering with the excitement of first love. But the old park—where I had met RED—had vanished. There was no trace left, only an empty lot that was cold, desolate, and unfamiliar.

I stood silently, the wind ruffling my hair. A strange and profound feeling of regret welled up inside me—as if I had lost something that could never be recovered. A friend. A soul. A part of me.

Is RED real? Or was it merely a dream? I do not know. But I do know that some encounters, even if they happen just once, leave an indelible mark on our memory forever.

KT