Landscape of Sorrow (Short Story)

I was gazing at the sea. I stood all alone on a beach paved with stones of various sizes.
Before noon, in the early summer sea where the heat was increasing, a few other figures could be seen here and there. They must have come seeking a moment of coolness. There were parents and children playing with the waves, and several young people sitting on the embankment, talking to each other.
People whose names I didn't even know were each lost in their own thoughts about the sea. Only your figure was missing.

The rippling waves that came and went seemed as if they might pull me into the water in an instant, while pretending to reject those who chased them. Even as I drew back, thinking it was dangerous to get too close, I couldn't help but think that if this feeling were to last forever, then perhaps...
The gentle sea breeze of the early afternoon carried the scent of the tide. Only your scent was missing.

The people who had been around had disappeared one by one before I knew it. The sunset, with its intensely passionate color, was too dazzling and stung my eyes. The place where I am standing now will also be at the bottom of the sea when the tide comes in—even if it is very shallow.
The air, which had become a little colder, clung to my skin and gradually stole my body heat. Only your warmth was missing.

The sun would soon sink beyond the horizon. Perhaps it was my own weakness that made me think that the sun 'setting' was an ominous phrase. The fleeting nature of the twilight sky's color, between the madder red of the sunset and the deep purple of the evening darkness, stirred up a sense of loneliness.
The tide came in. I heard the sound of the waves. Only yours.

(Let's go together)
I felt like I heard your voice. It was a lie. I must have mistaken it for something else. And yet, through the gaps in the sound of the waves, it was definitely there.
I can't go, I have to go home soon—to where?
A world without you, a place to be other than by your side. If you call me to somewhere other than here, then that place is...
If I soak my feet in the rising tide, will you gently scold me? If I get my body wet, will you hold me? If I sink to the bottom, will the traces of my tears disappear?
If I could throw everything away at the bottom of the sea and meet you again. That alone—that is all.

Only the empty sea reflects the darkness of the night on its surface.

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