Path Of The Wind

Part 4:《Perhaps, it's just that》

Adem

"Perhaps a friendship has always been so young and fragile, it doesn't get old and it doesn't mature—it stays an infant with mostly everyone. That's why we all end up leaving it behind..."

I never looked at the stars the way others did. Some people used them like a map, a sort of guidance in so many fields. But not me. I didn't have the courage to leave town.

I'd always just made wishes. Big ones. If all turned their backs on me, I would still have at least one who listened, surely—even if I never said them aloud. People here would say it was naïve, but it felt better than keeping things to myself.

I realized something: I was so focused on keeping everything together, I forgot how to take care of myself. How to stop being the person everyone relied on, and just... be aware of myself.

The night wrapped around me like a cover—comforting, yet haunting.
This town was a bit suffocating, but it was also beautiful at the same time.

As I neared the hamlet, I started to crush the grass beneath my shoes and could smell the air rising from the woods—light, fresh, and detoxifying—as I blew out in relief.

Before getting consumed by the quiet livings of the forest, I left the path that led to it. Huge old trees towered over a hundred small houses. I ended up sneaking into the heart of the maze—dim lights, some broken lamps, and so many narrow streets. My thoughts were still replaying the activities from the martial arts park I'd just come from. It was a beautiful event, with glowing lights and professional fighters who showed, through their movements, how years of discipline and training made it worth celebrating.

Elija had dragged me there, of course. He couldn't stop talking about how incredible it would be, his eyes lighting up like a kid at a birthday party. And, okay, I had to admit, he wasn't wrong. The fighters moved with such grace and power that it was impossible not to get swept up in it. We'd parted ways after it ended, but I could still hear his excited chatter echoing in my head.

As I turned into the alley near the restaurant, my steps slowed, and that's when I heard Miki's barking, loud and insistent. It cut through the stillness of the night, sharp and loud—not like her at all. My stomach tightened.

Miki wasn't one to bark like that, especially not this late. The neighbors were probably already annoyed, and I couldn't blame them. If this kept up, someone might actually call the police on me.

But as soon as she saw me, her barking changed. It softened into an almost relieved whimper, and her tail waved so hard her whole body seemed to move with it. The sight of her was like a balm to my boiling nerves, her excitement pulling a small, tired smile from me. Miki always had a way of setting peace into me, even when the rest of the world felt like too much.

Miki sniffed at me, her usual excitement briefly subdued. Then, suddenly, her ears perked up, and she turned her attention toward the alley, her body tense with unease. I followed her gaze, my stomach tightening. A shadow shifted against the dim light—a figure. Human-like in shape. Someone was hiding behind the wall in the alley.

A thief? My mind raced. The restaurant was closed, its windows dark and uninviting. No one would come all this way for that, would they?

"Hello?" I called out cautiously. A response would have been reassuring—a neighbor, maybe, or someone lost. But there was nothing. Just silence.

If my instincts were right, this wasn't harmless. A thief, perhaps, or worse. My mind raced through possibilities, each one more concerning than the last. Whoever it was, they didn't belong here, and I couldn't ignore the potential threat to the neighborhood. I had to know who they were—had to stop them before they disappeared.