On a chilly night, Shota was walking through the streets when he noticed a girl standing alone under an old streetlight. The soft orange glow of the light highlighted her white dress, making her seem almost ethereal. Stopping in his tracks, Shota watched as the girl noticed him and smiled warmly.
“Hey, mister, are you out here alone at this hour?”
The unexpected question caught Shota off guard, but something about her friendly smile put him at ease. He wasn’t particularly fond of children, yet her demeanor felt strangely familiar, like meeting an old friend.
“Yeah, I just felt like going for a walk.”
“I see. So, you’re alone too.”
The girl murmured something under her breath, but the sound of the wind swallowed her words before they reached Shota’s ears.
“And you? What brings you out at this hour?” he asked.
“Me? I don’t know. I just realized I was here.”
She said it so innocently that Shota couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sounds like something out of a dream.”
“Maybe it is… Hey, mister, do you remember your dreams?”
Shota thought for a moment before replying, “Sometimes, but I usually forget them.”
The girl gazed intently at his face. “I don’t want to forget my dreams. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember them… and that makes me sad.”
Her words gave Shota pause. For someone so young, her thoughts seemed remarkably mature. Yet, the way her eyes searched for something distant stirred a faint memory within him.
“Sad, huh. But you know, even if you forget the time you spent with someone, it doesn’t mean it’s gone.”
“Really?” she asked hesitantly, her expression tinged with uncertainty.
Shota nodded and spoke in a gentle tone. “Even if you can’t recall it, those moments still existed. They’re still somewhere deep in your heart.”
The girl pondered his words for a moment, then broke into a bright smile. “Thank you, mister. That makes me feel a little better.”
She began to walk away, her movements blending seamlessly with the breeze. Her voice reached Shota as she moved farther from him.
“I’m glad I got to meet you tonight.”
In the blink of an eye, she disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the faint outline of her white dress illuminated by the streetlight.
Standing alone on the empty street, Shota realized that his eyes were wet. The tears weren’t born of sorrow but of a bittersweet, nostalgic warmth.
“Maybe it really was just a dream,” he murmured as he turned to leave the night behind. Whether the encounter had been real or not, the sense of fulfillment in his heart felt undeniably genuine.
