[Novel] Before the Light Snow
The town's sky, even as winter set in, remained pale and ambiguous, as if hesitating to take on any color. It did not reach white, nor did it sink into gray; only the premonition of "waiting for snow" was thinly folded into the pleats of the air.
Sayo would look up at that sky almost every day from a small coffee shop in front of the station. The world floating beyond the steam was so fragile it felt as though it would break if touched by a finger, yet it was undeniably breathing.
The character for 'pale' (awa) had, at some point, taken up residence in Sayo's heart. It was not about a lack of color, but a promise never to become too deep—a symbol of the distance where hearts nestle together without making a sound.
He—Toma—would often laugh and say, "That's so like you, Sayo," when referring to that "paleness." Their relationship was one where they were modest even about calling each other's names, confirming only the warmth without ever touching. There was a sense that if they called it love, it would unravel, and if they didn't, their shadows would be etched nowhere.
And so, the two of them stood just before the threshold of words, waiting for the snow to fall. In this world, there still remained feelings that could only be entrusted to the seasons.
Eventually, at the end of December, in the twilight when the wind began to take on a slight shape, Sayo waited for Toma in front of the shop after closing. Even through her gloves, the cold seeped in, yet strangely, only her heart felt quietly warm.
"It looks like it might actually fall today."
Toma said this, and without even touching Sayo's shoulder, he stood surely by her side. Their shadows nestled together on the pavement. Under the pale light, the way they overlapped was so modest and beautiful.
The first flake fell after they had shared three silent breaths. The snow held no sound, melting away without ever touching the world.
While noticing its transience, Sayo suddenly realized—to be pale is not to be thin, but to possess the strength not to rush into depth.
"Shall we wait for the snow again next year?"
Toma's voice melted into the sky, softer than the snow. Sayo did not answer. Instead, she exhaled in place of words, and that whiteness became a quiet light between the two of them.
The snow that had begun to fall did not yet remain on the ground. But it was certainly changing the world. Remaining pale, remaining unvanished.
That night, for the first time, the two of them saw the same future.
The waiting for snow was over, and the beginning of waiting for snow had quietly arrived.
#NovemberLiteratureTheme #November24 #WaitingForSnow #Pale
#Novel #SS #ShortShort #ShortNovel #PureLiterature #Literature
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/822139840103430799/episodes/822139840103455363