[Creative Award 2026 Entry] Silence of the White Table Chapter 4: Midnight Piercing the Margins

Under white lighting, the night begins to resemble the day. Yet, even as it resembles it, it is far quieter than the day, and it is precisely because of that silence that my own breathing becomes noticeable.

Saki took a slightly longer route from the station because she didn't want that breathing to be so noticeable. Along the detour, the light of a sign changed, and the color of the road surface shifted.

As the flow of people thinned, the city began to strip away its sounds. The blinking of the electric lights seemed to slow down, and the sound of passing cars unraveled in the distance.

The term 'after the last train' is convenient, and the more convenient a word is, the more it hides one's emotions. Saki stood in front of the family restaurant door, continuing to pretend she was hiding them.

The white light through the glass pushed back the darkness outside, albeit thinly. It felt as though the pushed-back darkness was pooling at the feet of the entrance.

The sound of the automatic door opening was short, yet even in its brevity, it created a boundary. When crossing that boundary, Saki always felt the tension in her shoulders ease just a little.

Because that tension eased, something felt like it was about to slip in. Because it felt like it was about to slip in, Saki hurriedly cast her eyes down at the text on the menu.

The smell inside the restaurant was dry, yet the chill of the ice created a dampness somewhere. The faint music did not linger in the back of her ears, rounding off the corners of the silence.

Before looking toward the seats, she looked anyway. She wanted to tell herself that what her eyes were checking on their own accord was not expectation.

Naoto was there. Today, too, he was in the same seat, not leaning his back too far against the chair, his hands resting on the edge of the table.

Saki sat in a diagonal seat. The distance of not facing each other protected her heart tonight.

“You came.”

Naoto’s voice was quiet, yet it had a warmth that couldn't be missed. Just having that warmth made the depths of Saki’s chest unravel a little.

“I came.”

Saki said only that and touched her water. She brought her fingertips back to reality with the coldness, and with those returned fingertips, she suppressed her own emotions.

A server came and prompted them to order. Naoto finished with only the necessary words, and Saki followed suit.

Once the order was finished, the silence returned. Silence should be heavy, but between the two of them, the weight was always slightly different.

Saki wanted to put that difference into words. The moment she put it into words, the difference would take shape, and she was afraid of what had taken shape.

Naoto shook the ice in his glass just once. A hard sound rang out briefly, and the stirrings inside Saki’s chest dropped a notch.

Because of that dropped stirring, Saki thought about unnecessary things. Even though she thought, the habit of pretending not to think wasn't working well tonight.

“How was today?”

Naoto asked. The way he asked was gentle, yet he properly left room for an escape route.

“It’s not organized enough to say how it was.”

Saki said it honestly. The stinging in her throat after saying it felt a little lighter.

Naoto nodded. When the angle of his nod was deep, Saki felt like she was being accepted, and it scared her.

The drinks arrived, and the steamless cold was placed on the table. Water droplets immediately appeared on the outside of the glass, forming pale rings on the wood grain.

The rings would soon disappear. Even though she knew they would disappear, Saki watched them.

“On days when things aren't organized, I feel it’s better not to force them to be.”

Naoto’s way of speaking wasn't an assertion; he ended it with 'I feel.' Because the way he ended it was soft, Saki forgot to push back.

“If I don't organize them, I’ll get scolded.”

Saki started to smile and then stopped. If she turned it into a smile, it would become lighter, but there was a pain today that she didn't want to make light.

“So you get scolded.”

Naoto said. That brevity pierced the depths of Saki’s chest. She felt that it was okay to just leave the words 'get scolded' with someone.

“I get scolded, though not every day.”

Saki drank her water. The water was cold, and the back of her throat hurt. Even though it hurt, it was a little different from the feeling of wanting to cry.

What she wanted to cry about wasn't being scolded, but herself for being able to put on a calm face even when she was. The better she was at putting on a calm face, the more her true feelings arrived late.

The late-arriving true feelings were usually left behind at the edge of the night. The left-behind true feelings were breathing like this under the white lighting.

“Saki-san, you seem good at your job.”

Naoto said. There are moments when the words 'seem good at' don't sound like a compliment. Saki knew that moment.

“It’s not that I’m good at it, I’m just bad at running away.”

After saying it, Saki realized her mouth had opened too much. But Naoto didn't try to close it.

“If you’re bad at running away, you just keep moving forward, don't you.”

Naoto said. The words 'moving forward' were heavy to Saki. She didn't know who was waiting for her at the place she moved forward to.

“I’m just pretending to move forward while spinning in the same place.”

Saki said it a little spitefully. Spitefulness comes out when she wants to protect herself.

Naoto didn't laugh. By accepting it without laughing, he left Saki’s spitefulness as it was. When it was left there, Saki couldn't continue being spiteful.

Silence came. In the silence, the sound of tableware touching at the next table could be heard sharply, just once.

The sharpness of the sound made the outline of the fatigue inside Saki stand out just a little. When it stood out, she couldn't hide it.

“I had a strange dream today.”

Saki pretended to change the subject. If she didn't pretend to change the subject, the current silence would become too deep.

“What kind?”

Naoto’s reply was short. The short reply was waiting for Saki to continue.

“The proposal wasn't paper, it was sand.”

Saki almost laughed herself. Even though she almost laughed, the impatience from the dream still remained in her fingertips.

“When I touched it, it crumbled and the pages disappeared, but I was still being pressured to submit it.”

Remembering even the dryness of the air in the dream, Saki wanted to hold her throat.

Naoto nodded slightly. His nod didn't make fun of the dream. Just by not being made fun of, Saki was saved a little.

“If it’s sand, that’s certainly scary.”

Naoto said. The word 'scary' turned the impatience in the dream into words of reality. When it turned into words, the impatience came out just a little.

“It’s scary, the feeling that nothing will remain.”

Saki said it. The moment she said it was scary that nothing would remain, she felt she had gone beyond talking about work.

Naoto still listened in silence. When listened to, Saki found herself searching for what she was afraid of.

Being afraid of not leaving anything behind wasn't because her efforts would be in vain. It was because she was surrounded by things that disappeared based on someone else's mood, and even her own outline was becoming thin.

“Is there something you want to leave behind?”

Naoto asked. The question was quiet and touched the wall deep in Saki’s chest. It touched it, but didn't knock.

“If I say I want to leave something behind, it’s heavy.”

Saki ran away. She hated herself a little for using her habit of running away here.

Naoto didn't chase that hatred. Instead of chasing, he shook the ice once. The sound rang out briefly, and Saki matched her breathing to that sound.

“The heavier it is, the better it remains, doesn't it.”

Naoto said. The way he said 'it remains, doesn't it' warmed the inside of Saki’s chest just a little.

It was scary to be warmed. A place that has been warmed hurts when it gets cold. Knowing it would hurt, Saki didn't want to get used to the temperature.

Yet, deep inside the feeling of not wanting to get used to it, there was also a feeling of wanting to get used to it. Having that feeling of wanting to get used to it was the biggest sign of weakness for Saki.

Naoto drank his water. The habit of taking a small breath before drinking looked a little deeper tonight.

It looked deep because Saki was watching Naoto. The fact that she was watching him rang quietly in the depths of Saki’s chest.

“Naoto-san...”

Saki started to say and stopped. She was afraid of touching his life. If she touched it, this relationship wouldn't end as an extension of daily life.

Naoto waited. The waiting silence didn't push the back of Saki’s words. Even though it didn't push, Saki said the rest.

“Naoto-san, is there something you want to leave behind?”

After saying it, Saki noticed her voice was a little raspy. She wanted to blame the raspiness on fatigue.

Naoto lowered his eyes just a little. The time he spent thinking while keeping them lowered felt long to Saki. Even though it felt long, she didn't want to look away.

“There is something I want to leave behind.”

Naoto said only that. Saki’s chest swayed at the brevity of 'there is.'

“But I don't know if I can leave it behind.”

Naoto’s voice became a little lower. Just by becoming lower, the air under the white lighting became a little thicker.

Saki went silent. While silent, she traced the ring of water droplets on the glass with her finger. The ring disappeared, but the chill on her fingertips remained.

“Is it work?”

Saki asked. The moment she asked, she felt she had intruded and her throat tightened. With her throat tightened, she waited without running away.

Naoto didn't answer immediately. While he didn't answer, the sounds in the restaurant faded away. Because they faded, Naoto’s breathing became closer.

“Work is also part of it.”

Naoto said. The way he said 'is also part of it' was vague, but there was a line drawn within that vagueness.

“I sometimes wonder what I’m selling as a publishing sales representative.”

Naoto’s words became a little longer. When they became longer, she knew Naoto was talking about himself.

Saki inhaled. The inhaled breath didn't reach the depths of her chest. Even though it didn't reach, she wanted to hear.

“Of course, I’m selling the books themselves, but...”

Naoto searched for words. The time he spent searching pierced Saki. It pierced her because she could see the weakness of a person searching for words.

“In reality, it’s things like locations, faces, promises...”

Naoto’s voice was quiet, and even though it was quiet, the edges of his words were a little painful. Painful words touched somewhere on Saki’s body.

“It’s like a job where you protect what someone wants to protect in front of someone else.”

Naoto said that and stopped there. The moment he stopped, the ice made a small sound as if it had rung on its own.

Saki couldn't nod. If she nodded, she was afraid she would say she understood. If she said she understood, their pains would be placed on the same shelf.

“Protecting things is tiring, isn't it.”

Saki said it in the end. After saying it, the depths of her chest became a little lighter.

Naoto relaxed the corners of his eyes. The way they relaxed was small, closer to permission than a smile. When permitted, Saki felt like she would say even more.

“It is tiring.”

Naoto said briefly. Naoto’s fatigue was packed into the short words. Even though it was packed, he didn't pass the weight on to her.

“There are nights when you’re tired but can't go home.”

Naoto continued. The words 'can't go home' hit Saki’s chest. She was afraid of the moment it stopped being just Saki’s words.

“Business dinners, distributors, the convenience of bookstores...”

Naoto didn't list too many specifics. Even though he didn't list too many, the stickiness of the night was conveyed. Once it was conveyed, Saki wanted to reach out.

Saki gripped the hand she wanted to reach out with on her lap. Her gripped fingers hurt a little. She stopped herself with the pain.

“Even so, I don't think I want to quit.”

Naoto said. The negation of 'I don't think I want to quit' looked like a strong will to Saki.

“Because I feel like if I quit, something will disappear.”

Naoto’s voice rasped just a little. Just by having that rasp, the back of Saki’s throat became hot.

She felt like something would disappear. Saki had been thinking the same thing. Even though she had been thinking it, saying it was the same was different.

Saki swallowed the word 'same.' The swallowed word caught in her throat, and she almost coughed.

“Naoto-san, are you resting properly?”

Saki asked in a different form. Even in a different form, the temperature of concern mixed in. The mixed-in temperature was scary.

“I’m not resting.”

Naoto said easily. The ease made her feel that it wasn't a manufactured strength.

“Even though I’m not resting, I can pretend to be fine.”

Naoto continued. The words 'pretend to be fine' thinned the wall deep in Saki’s chest. When it thinned, the buds of tears drew near.

Saki drank her water. She suppressed her tears with the coldness. Instead of the suppressed tears, her chest trembled slightly.

“Pretending to be fine is convenient, isn't it.”

Saki said. The moment she said it was convenient, the depths of her chest hurt a little.

“It is convenient.”

Naoto nodded. While nodding, he lowered his gaze just once. When the lowered gaze returned, a little shame was mixed into it.

The fact that shame was mixed in pierced Saki. It pierced her because she realized Naoto was not perfect.

“I, sometimes...”

Naoto started to say and stopped. While he stopped, the sound of tableware stacking echoed in the back of the restaurant. The sound rang briefly, prompting the continuation of Naoto’s words.

“Sometimes, in a place where no one can see me, I feel like my breathing is going to stop.”

Naoto said. The words 'breathing is going to stop' fell into the depths of Saki’s chest. The fallen words disturbed Saki’s breathing a little.

“When you feel like it’s going to stop, what do you think about?”

Saki asked. After she asked, she felt she had intruded and her throat tightened.

Naoto smiled a little. The smile was from the corners of his eyes, and his mouth was slow. The slow mouth was hesitating to put it into words.

“I can't think about anything.”

Naoto said. The blankness of 'I can't think about anything' was the scariest thing to Saki.

“Even though I can't think about anything, only my body moves.”

Naoto continued. The moving body sounded like a machine made for work. Even though it sounded like that, she knew it was a human story.

Saki couldn't nod. Instead of nodding, she spun the glass with her fingertips. When she spun it, the ring of water droplets distorted, and the distorted ring disappeared.

“That’s why I come here.”

Naoto said. The words 'I come here' fell quietly. The fallen words held heat within Saki.

Even though they held heat, Naoto didn't say anything more. The margin of not saying anything pierced her. The piercing margin was far more troublesome than words.

Saki became afraid that she would become Naoto’s place to leave things. Even though she was afraid, there was a part of her that thought it was okay, and she wanted to hit that part of herself.

Even though she wanted to hit it, she couldn't. Because she couldn't hit it, Saki searched again for a place to leave her weakness.

“Here is...”

Saki started to say. She didn't know what was beyond the words 'here is.' She continued without knowing.

“Is this just a place to you, Naoto-san?”

Saki asked. The moment she asked, the depths of her chest tightened. While it remained tightened, she tried to make only her breathing deep.

Naoto went silent for a little while. The time he spent silent made the sound of Saki’s heartbeat float.

“If it were just a place, it would have been easy.”

Naoto said. The past tense of 'it would have been easy' caught in Saki’s chest.

“But it’s not just a place.”

Naoto continued. The moment he continued, the back of Saki’s throat became hot. Even though it became hot, tears still didn't come.

“It’s difficult to say how...”

Naoto searched for words. She could see the back of the words he was searching for, and Saki wanted to touch them. Saki gripped the hand she wanted to touch with on her lap again.

“Because when I come here, I feel like my breathing returns.”

Naoto said. The words 'my breathing returns' touched Saki’s core. The moment she was touched, Saki remembered the words she couldn't say.

When I can see you, my breathing becomes easier. That’s why it’s scary.

Saki didn't say those words. Instead of saying them, she lowered her gaze and stared at the ring of water droplets on the table. The ring disappeared. Even though it disappeared, tonight’s words would not disappear.

“Breathing returning is amazing, isn't it.”

Saki said as if wringing it out. She said it was amazing because she actually wanted to say it was scary.

Naoto nodded. His nod was modest and didn't steal her words. Because of the nod that didn't steal, Saki was made to leave her emotions there.

“Saki-san, do you also have the feeling that your breathing returns?”

Naoto asked. Being asked, Saki wanted to run away. Even though she wanted to run away, she didn't.

“...I do.”

Saki said. The moment she said it, the depths of her chest collapsed a little. From the collapsed place, she could see the feelings she wasn't supposed to say.

Naoto went silent there. By going silent, he didn't corner Saki’s words. The silence that didn't corner her was the hardest for Saki.

Even though it was hard, it wasn't unpleasant. Because it wasn't unpleasant, it was even scarier.

The time to go home approached. The whiteness inside the restaurant dulled a little, and the darkness outside returned to the glass.

Saki couldn't stand up. If she stood up, she would be leaving behind the lingering echo of these words. If she left them behind, she felt like her breathing would become shallow again.

Naoto didn't stand up first. By not standing up first, he waited for Saki’s choice. When she was waited for, Saki couldn't deny that she was wanting.

“Thank you for today.”

Saki finally said. She made her voice a little flat so that the word 'thank you' wouldn't get too close to the words of love.

Naoto nodded slightly. In the nod, a sign that he couldn't leave her alone was mixed in. Even though it was mixed in, he didn't put it into words.

When they finished paying and went outside, the air was a little damp. Even though it hadn't rained, the road surface held the scent of the night.

The two stood side by side in front of the restaurant. Even though they stood side by side, their shoulders didn't touch. The distance of not touching was strangely conscious tonight.

“Please don't overdo it.”

Naoto said. 'Don't overdo it' is too simple a phrase, but when said in Naoto’s voice, it didn't become simple.

“You too, Naoto-san.”

Saki replied. The moment she replied, she realized she had stood on the side of caring for the other person. Even if she realized it, she couldn't go back anymore.

Naoto smiled a little. The smile was short, just the corners of his eyes relaxing. The relaxed corners of his eyes stroked the depths of Saki’s chest.

“I’ll be here next week, too.”

Naoto said. The word 'be' was close to a promise, but he didn't call it a promise. The margin of not saying it remained inside Saki.

Saki nodded. She thought she was a little weak for nodding. Even though she was weak, that weakness didn't become shame tonight.

The traffic light changed, and the outline of the white city thinned a little. In the thinning, only the two of them’s words strangely remained.

Saki started walking. She felt like she could feel a gaze on her back, and she wanted to look back. She was afraid because she knew that if she looked back, her breathing would become easier.

While still afraid, she looked forward. While looking forward, she noticed that the breathing in the depths of her chest was a little deeper.