Chase more sunsets with you

Chapter 4

Carl's POV

The fourth day of our time together arrived with a soft drizzle that was typical for the late afternoon in Quezon City. I'd hoped the weather wouldn't deter our plans, and fortunately, it didn't. Haruki and I had agreed to meet again at the Sunken Garden, despite the light rain that seemed to add a gentle, misty quality to the surroundings.

I arrived a bit early, the sound of raindrops tapping on the pavement mingling with the distant murmur of students. As I walked toward the garden, I felt a bit of fatigue tugging at me, a reminder of how I'd been pushing myself lately. I brushed it off, though, focusing on the excitement of seeing Haruki again.

When I reached the garden, I found Haruki already there, sheltered under a large, leafy tree that provided some cover from the rain. He was engrossed in a book, but he looked up with a smile as soon as he saw me.

"Hey, Carl!" he called out, waving enthusiastically. "You made it!"

"Of course," I said, trying to sound cheerful. I approached, shaking off the raindrops from my umbrella. "I wouldn't miss it."

Haruki's eyes seemed to linger on me for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he quickly masked it with a bright smile. "It's nice to see you. I've been looking forward to today."

I set down my bag and sat beside him on the grassy area that was still surprisingly dry despite the rain. "Me too. I thought we could try something different today. I brought some new art supplies."

Haruki's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "New supplies? What did you bring?"

I pulled out a set of watercolor pencils and a few new sketchbooks. "I thought we could experiment with these. They're pretty versatile, and I think they'll be fun to use."

He took the materials eagerly. "This sounds great! I'm excited to try them out."

We settled into our usual spot, the rain providing a soothing backdrop as we began to sketch and paint. The air was cool and fresh, and the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves above created a calming rhythm.

As we worked, our conversation meandered from art techniques to our favorite artists. Haruki seemed particularly interested in the concept of fleeting beauty, a topic I'd mentioned briefly before.

"Do you ever think about how art captures moments that are gone so quickly?" he asked, his eyes focused on his work. "Like, the sunset we saw the other day. It was beautiful, but it was only there for a short time."

I nodded, feeling a pang of unease as I thought about the fleeting nature of moments, both in art and in life. "Yeah, that's one of the things I love about art. It's like freezing a moment in time, so you can hold onto it even when it's gone."

Haruki looked thoughtful. "It's interesting how art can make something so temporary feel eternal. It's a way of preserving beauty, even if it's just for a while."

I couldn't help but reflect on the irony of our conversation. The idea of fleeting beauty resonated with me in a way that was both poignant and unsettling. I tried to push the thought aside, focusing instead on the enjoyable task of experimenting with the new supplies.

We spent the next hour immersed in our art, the rain providing a gentle, rhythmic backdrop. Haruki's sketches were coming to life with vibrant colors, and I found myself inspired by his enthusiasm and skill.

"Your work is really coming along," I said, admiring his progress. "You've got a knack for capturing the essence of the scene."

Haruki smiled, clearly pleased. "Thanks, Carl. I've been enjoying this a lot. It's relaxing."

As we continued, the conversation shifted to a new topic. Haruki had mentioned earlier that he wanted to teach me some Japanese phrases. He seemed excited about the idea, and I was more than willing to learn.

"Alright," he said, grinning. "Let's start with some basic phrases. How about 'hello' and 'thank you'?"

I nodded, eager to learn. "Sure, let's do it."

Haruki took a deep breath and began. "To say 'hello,' you can say 'こんにちは' (Konnichiwa). It's a general greeting that you can use any time of the day."

I repeated the phrase, trying to get the pronunciation right. "Konnichiwa. Got it."

"Very good!" Haruki said, looking pleased. "And for 'thank you,' you say 'ありがとう' (Arigatou). It's a polite way to show gratitude."

"Arigatou," I repeated, feeling the unfamiliar sounds roll off my tongue. "I like how it sounds."

Haruki laughed. "You're doing great! Let's try a few more. How about 'goodbye'?"

"For 'goodbye,' you say 'さようなら' (Sayounara). It's a bit more formal, but it works well."

I practiced the new phrase, enjoying the challenge of learning something new. "Sayounara. This is fun."

Haruki seemed genuinely pleased with my progress. "I'm glad you think so. It's nice to share a bit of my language with you."

As we continued to practice, the conversation flowed easily between us. We joked about the difficulties of learning Japanese, and I tried to teach Haruki a few Filipino phrases in return. It was lighthearted and fun, a welcome distraction from the growing fatigue I felt.

Despite my efforts to maintain a cheerful demeanor, Haruki seemed to notice that I was not quite myself. His concern was evident in the way he occasionally glanced at me, a shadow of worry in his eyes. But he didn't press me for details, and I was grateful for his understanding.

The sun began its slow descent, casting a golden light over the garden. The rain had stopped, leaving the air crisp and refreshing. We continued to paint and sketch, our artwork reflecting the soft, ethereal quality of the evening light.

As the sky turned shades of orange and pink, Haruki paused and looked around. "You know, this place has become one of my favorite spots. There's something so peaceful about it."

"I feel the same way," I said, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of our time together eventually ending. "It's like a little sanctuary from the busy world."

We packed up our supplies and prepared to leave as the sun set behind the horizon. Haruki looked at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Carl," he said softly, "I know you've been pushing yourself a lot lately. If you ever need to talk or if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

I was taken aback by his concern but managed a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired. But thank you for saying that. It means a lot."

Haruki nodded, accepting my response without pressing further. "Alright. Just remember, I'm here if you need anything."

As we walked back toward the campus, the sky darkening and the first stars beginning to appear, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for Haruki's presence. Our conversations, our shared moments of creativity, and his quiet support had made these days together something truly special.

We said our goodbyes at the edge of the campus, and I watched as Haruki walked away, his silhouette gradually blending into the darkness. I couldn't help but feel a mix of longing and contentment, knowing that our time together was precious and fleeting.

As I turned and walked back to my own place, I felt the weight of my fatigue but also a renewed sense of purpose. Despite the challenges I faced, the moments shared with Haruki had become a source of strength and joy.