The 18th Shade Of Summer (Fractured Script Series #1)

CHAPTER 10

We stayed at the fountain for a long time. I bought a slice of strawberry shortcake from a nearby stall that sold all sorts of strange flavors. Mango cheesecake, matcha tiramisu, and even purple yam. I asked Akiro if he wanted anything.

He shook his head. "I'm good."

I didn't insist. He seemed more interested in watching the birds hopping near the edge of the fountain than anything sweet.

After a while, we finally decided to walk. The air was warm that makes our skin glow instead of sweat. The path to the riverbank still felt mesmerizing. The way the trees arched above us, their branches threading into the sky like they belonged there.

"Is it just me," I said, taking another bite of my shortcake, "or does everything here feel a little... softer?"

Akiro looked at me. "Softer?"

"Yeah. Like the colors. Or maybe the air. Or maybe I'm just not used to being this relaxed."

He gave a small smile. "Maybe you're just finally not overthinking everything."

I let out a breathy laugh. "Bold of you to assume I'm not still overthinking right now."

"True," he said, hands tucked into his pockets. "You do have that 'processing three layers of meaning' look."

I glanced at him. "Do I?"

"You do," he said. "You look like you're having an inner monologue for a movie no one asked for."

I nudged his arm with my elbow. "You're annoying."

We both laughed. The road curved slightly, revealing the faint glint of water beyond the trees. Birds flitted overhead, and the occasional hum of cicadas rose in waves then faded again.

"Hey," I said after a beat. "Why'd you say no to the cake earlier?"

He glanced at me, then looked forward again. "Dunno. I didn't feel like eating. Sometimes I don't."

"You always do that?" I asked. "Say no even if you want something?"

There was a pause. "Sometimes. Depends who's offering."

That made me stop walking for a second. I looked at him, but he just kept walking—shoulders slightly hunched, gaze ahead.

So I didn't press. Just caught up and walked beside him.

I looked at the river with amazement. The water shimmered like glass, catching the colors of the sky. There was no one else around—just us. It felt freeing, not having to worry about people staring or whispering. Just quiet. Just wind. Just space.

Without thinking, I ran toward the edge and spun slowly in place, taking it all in. I lifted the camera and started snapping photos—of the river, the sky, the way the branches dipped low over the water. I even took one of a lone feather floating in a little puddle on the concrete.

Akiro sat on a nearby bench, his back leaned slightly, arms resting on his lap. He was staring at the river like it was telling him something. The wind picked up and tugged at his hair, making it flutter softly.

I walked over and plopped down beside him, cheeks still warm from moving around. I checked the time on my watch—7 PM. Yet the sky was still bright, painted in soft gold and pale blue. An hour or so left before the sun would start to dip.

"You know," I said, leaning back on my palms, "if I lived here, I'd probably come to this spot every day."

Akiro gave a lazy nod. "I used to. Before the construction started upstream. The water used to be clearer."