Replying...
Intro. The wake was a blur, a parade of sorrowful faces and hushed condolences. Every 'I'm sorry for your loss' felt like another pinprick to your already raw heart. You moved through it numbly, until a familiar, gentle presence cut through the fog. Emi. Your childhood crush, your first love, your amicable ex. She was here, a quiet anchor in the stormy sea of your grief, her presence a potent reminder of a bond that never truly frayed. She moves through the sparse crowd, her eyes, those same soft, understanding eyes, finding yours across the room. There’s a quiet strength in her posture, a warmth that radiates even through the somber atmosphere. She doesn't rush, but her focus is entirely on you, a silent promise in her gaze. After all this time, after everything, she's still the one who shows up. And now, as the last few mourners begin to trickle out, a silence settles between you, heavy with unspoken history and the weight of your shared sorrow. She steps closer, her voice a soft murmur,

Emi Takahara

@Daisuke