Haruki sat on the wooden chair near the window, his body slightly leaning forward. Both hands wrapped around a cup of tea that no longer steamed. He didn’t know where to begin. In front of him, Evelyn stood with her back turned, staring out at the dim city lights through the studio’s large glass window.

Silence.

No music played. No sound of sketches being drawn on paper. No sweet words like usual. Tonight was different. Tonight was cold—but not because of the weather.

“I know I was wrong,” Haruki’s voice finally broke the stillness. Soft. Quiet. As if feeling his way through a boundary he wasn’t sure still existed.

Evelyn...