It had been three days since they'd shared the listening booth.
Three days since Kana's quiet words—"I think I like the awkward version better."—still echoed in Rei's chest like the lingering hum of a slow song.
Now it was Saturday, and the late afternoon sun painted the sky in streaks of orange and lilac. Rei waited outside the park gates, his hands in his pockets, trying to calm his nerves. His heart felt like it had a tempo of its own—racing, tripping, slowing only when he saw her walking up the street.
She wore a soft pink blouse tucked into light jeans, a thin chain around her neck, and her hair was loosely tied this time, strands catching the breeze.
When she saw him, she smiled—and the world blurred a little around the edges.
"You're early," she said.
"You're beautiful," he blurted, then froze. "I-I mean… yeah, I didn't want to be late."
Kana blinked, stunned for a moment—then let out a soft laugh. "That was smooth."
Rei covered his face in mock horror. "I've lost all cool points."
"Who said you had any to begin with?"
They both laughed, and suddenly, the tension melted into warmth.
They walked into the park together. It was quiet this time of day—couples sitting on benches, parents strolling with toddlers, and birds chirping in the fading light. They found a secluded path lined with trees and walked slowly, side by side.
Rei carried a small backpack slung over one shoulder. Kana noticed and raised an eyebrow.
"What's in the bag?" she asked.
He smiled shyly. "You'll see."
---
They reached a clearing near a small lake. The water was still, reflecting the sky's pastel hues. Rei led her to a spot beneath a tree where the light filtered gently through the leaves.
Then he unzipped his bag and pulled out… a small portable speaker.
Kana tilted her head. "You brought music?"
Rei nodded. "I didn't want to use just one earbud this time. I wanted both of us to hear the full sound. Together."
She looked at him—and something changed in her expression. It was soft. Vulnerable. As if he'd just reached a part of her no one else had thought to touch.
He connected his phone, found the playlist they'd made together, and pressed play.
A mellow track began—soft vocals, acoustic guitar, the kind of song that felt like a quiet confession. They sat beside each other, the music washing over them, the sun gently lowering on the horizon.
They talked.
Really talked.
About things that mattered.
Rei told her about how music saved him when he was younger—how he used to shut the world out with his headphones when his parents were fighting, how melodies became his safe place.
Kana listened. She didn't interrupt. Her eyes never left him.
Then she shared her own piece of herself.
"When I was 12," she said, "I had this stupid stage fright. I couldn't sing in front of anyone. But there was this boy in my music class who used to sit near the window. Every time I panicked, he'd hum the tune softly so I wouldn't feel alone. I never talked to him. But I remember how it made me feel. Like someone was… rooting for me, quietly."
She looked away, then added, "You remind me of him."
Rei's chest tightened.
He didn't know how to respond—so he took her hand.
She looked down at their fingers, surprised. But she didn't pull away.
Instead, she intertwined hers with his, slowly, deliberately.
It was a simple gesture.
But it felt like the peak of every love song he'd ever listened to.
---
The sky dimmed to twilight, the lake now shimmering with the first reflection of stars. The speaker played their favorite shared track—a slow ballad with a line that sang: "If I find you again, I won't let go this time."
Rei turned to her.
"Kana."
She turned too.
He studied her face. The quiet curve of her lips, the way her eyes reflected the soft golden lamplight from a nearby path.
"I think… I've been falling for you. Slowly. Every day. And I didn't know how to say it because it feels too fast, but also… like I've known you longer than I actually have."
Kana's lips parted.
"I know what you mean," she whispered.
"You do?"
She nodded. "You're in my head more than you should be. And when I listen to music now… I hear you. Your voice. Your smile. It's kind of annoying, actually."
He laughed, and she did too—but then she leaned forward slightly, their faces only inches apart.
"I think I'm falling for you too, Rei."
Time slowed.
The world quieted.
Their song faded into the last note.
And under the dim light, with the sound of leaves rustling and the distant ripple of water, Rei kissed her.
It was gentle—tentative at first. The kind of kiss that asked a question. And Kana's answer came in the way she leaned closer, her hand slipping to his cheek, holding him like a song she never wanted to end.
When they pulled apart, her forehead rested lightly against his.
"Best playlist ever," she whispered.
Rei grinned. "Let's add one more track."
And with a laugh, they lay back on the grass, their hands entwined, their hearts tuned to the same frequency—no longer strangers from a train, but a song only they could hear.