#Shirokuma Literature Club: The Day I Didn't Know the Name of the Wind - Short Fiction Story -

I am participating in Kosuke Komaki's fun project, "March is."

The deadline is Wednesday, 3/4, 23:59. Thank you for your support.

*This story is a work of fiction.

The Day I Didn't Know the Name of the Wind

March was the month I burned the letters.

It was still a cold afternoon, but the scent of spring was faintly mixed into the sunlight.

In the corner of the balcony, inside a round white ceramic bowl, a letter that had gone unopened for over a year was slowly engulfed in flames.

Watching the scene of the dancing ashes, his voice began to melt faintly deep within my chest.

The last time we met was on the same day a year ago.

Just before the cherry blossoms bloomed.

I couldn't say anything back to him when he laughed and said, "Let's meet again when spring comes."

Back then, I was better at turning my eyes away from reality than believing in the future.

The news that he had collapsed was sudden.

The name of the illness and the circumstances were surprisingly matter-of-fact, and only the time within me stopped right there.

I couldn't go to the funeral.

I couldn't say anything to anyone.

Instead, a month later, a letter arrived from his mother.

The sender's name was his own.

I couldn't open that envelope for a whole year.

I think I was afraid.

I felt that if I knew his "last words," it would really be over.

But this March, the morning wind suddenly changed.

Coats in the city became thinner, and in the silence, color began to return to the storefronts of the flower shops.

At that moment, I finally felt it.

I think I'm ready now.

The fire quietly licked the envelope, and the thin paper wrinkled like waves.

I imagined in my heart the words that might have been written on that single sheet.

"Thank you."

"Take care."

"See you in the spring."

In the remaining ashes, I felt as if the traces of ink glowed blue for just a moment.

The wind blew, and the ashes danced into the air.

As if one season were ending, he within me was also drifting away.

Even so, for some reason, I did not feel sad.

I washed the white bowl and placed my hands on the balcony railing.

The warmth of the sun still lingered on my fingertips.

Beyond the vast sky, I could clearly see the next season.

~ The End ~

#ShirokumaLiteratureClub