The Red String Between Us Part II: Frayed Threads

第21章 A Night Of Jewel's

      Wednesday evening arrived with the soft chill of early autumn brushing Hokkaido. Harum had sent a polite but insistent message earlier in the day: another date. I hesitated for a moment before replying—something about his charm, the way he planned these experiences, made it impossible to say no.

By the time I stepped outside my apartment, Harum was waiting, casually elegant as ever, his coat draped over one arm. "Good evening, Eden," he said, bowing slightly before holding out his hand. "Shall we?"

I smiled, slipping my hand into his, feeling the warmth and steadiness of his touch. "Lead the way."

Our first stop was the ropeway to Mount Hakodate Observatory. The cable cars glided smoothly over the hills, leaving the city lights twinkling far below. Harum remained quiet for most of the ride, letting the scenery speak, but I could feel the deliberate care in his presence, the way he subtly shifted closer, keeping our hands brushing.

When we reached the top, the view took my breath away. Hokkaido's cityscape stretched beneath us, each light a jewel against the dark velvet sky. The harbor glimmered, the bridges delicate threads of gold, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly beautiful.

Harum gestured toward the panorama. "It's said to be one of the most stunning night views in the world. I wanted you to see it for yourself."

I turned to him, smiling. "It is... incredible."

He didn't speak, just let me take in the view, his quiet presence a comforting counterpoint to the spectacle. I found myself imagining what it would be like to stand here with him on other nights, other years. A thought I quickly pushed aside—too complicated, too soon.

After soaking in the observatory's brilliance, Harum suggested a second stop: the historic Otaru Canal. By the time we arrived, the streets were softly lit with lanterns reflecting in the water. The stone warehouses stood timeless and proud, their façades mirrored in the gently rippling canal. Couples strolled hand in hand, the faint sound of water lapping against the edges of the stone creating a serene rhythm.

"This is beautiful," I said, breathing in the crisp evening air. "It feels... like stepping into another time."

Harum's eyes held mine. "That's the charm of Otaru. There's history here, but it's quiet, intimate. I thought it might suit tonight."

He offered his arm, and I took it, feeling the steady pulse of his presence beside me. We wandered along the canal, watching small boats drift under the softly illuminated bridges, the world narrowing to the quiet rhythm of our footsteps and the subtle warmth of being together.

At one point, he paused, tilting his head toward me with a faint smile. "I enjoy seeing you like this," he said quietly. "Unhurried, letting the moment reach you."

I felt a soft heat rise to my cheeks, not from the cool night air. "I... I'm glad you brought me," I admitted.

He gently brushed a strand of hair from my face—careful, deliberate—just enough for me to feel his touch without crossing any lines.

"I like seeing you smile, Eden," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I really enjoy spending time with you. I could get used to this. There's something about you that pulls me in, but more than anything, I'm drawn to the natural friendship we've built. I feel there's so much between us, even if you've been holding back. I'd never pressure you into anything... but when you're ready, I'll be here."

"Ready for what?" I asked softly.

"To see me as more than just a way to pass the time," he said, meeting my eyes.

For a moment, I let the words hang in the air. The night felt heavier, richer. He didn't look away, and neither did I.

"So... what does partnership mean to you?" Harum asked after a pause, his tone thoughtful, almost cautious.

I tilted my head, studying him. "Partnership?"

"Yeah," he said, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "Not just dating, but actually choosing someone. What do you expect from that kind of commitment?"

I hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Honesty, first. Stability. Someone who doesn't just show up when it's easy but stays when it's inconvenient. I've seen too many people fold when things get complicated."

He nodded slowly, absorbing my words. "That's fair. For me, it's about trust. I need someone who doesn't just share the good moments but isn't afraid to call me out when I'm wrong. Someone who sees me—all of me—and doesn't run."

I leaned back, intrigued. "And if she does run?"

His lips curved into a wry smile. "I go after what I believe in and I know my worth, but I also respect romantic boundaries."

Something about the way he said it—calm, certain—settled into me. I wasn't used to men speaking about commitment without hesitation.

"What about love?" I asked. "What does that look like to you?"

Harum's eyes softened. "It looks like showing up every day, even when the spark fades and the world gets heavy. Love is choosing the person anyway. Choosing them again and again."

I exhaled slowly, realizing my heart was beating faster. "You make it sound so simple."

"It should be," he said quietly. "The hard part is finding someone who believes the same."

We stayed by the canal a while longer, the world around us quiet except for water and lantern light. It was peaceful, almost dreamlike—another carefully curated memory by Harum, and one I found myself reluctant to leave.

As the night drew to a close, and we headed back toward the car, I felt a strange mix of emotions—warmth, affection, and the subtle ache of knowing my heart could be pulled in more than one direction.

Harum dropped me off at home around 11 p.m. As always, he got out, opened my car door, and walked me to the front steps. He paused, his gaze falling on the flowers and card waiting by my door.

"Someone really likes you," he said with a faint smile.

I waved it off casually. "Oh, my birthday's in two days—my dad must have sent flowers early."

He leaned in, giving me an intimate hug, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight, Eden," he whispered.

Once I watched him drive away, I picked up the flowers and note. Inside, the pristine white orchids seemed to confirm what I already suspected. I set the bouquet carefully on the counter before opening the card.

Boundaries are sacred, and I'll honor each one,
Yet my heart beats for you like the rise of the sun.
If you trust me, take a leap, let the world fade away,
Pack a suitcase, join me tomorrow at seven in the sea.

If you cannot, I'll respect the choice you make,
No words, no pleading, no hearts to break.
But if you come, the night will be ours to share,
For what I feel for you is beyond compare.

5000 Kahnowah, Levue, Kengahok District, Hokkaido, Japan