As Haruto walked the narrow countryside path back toward his home, the golden afternoon sun draped the world in a soft, honeyed glow. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and wildflowers, carried by a gentle breeze that hummed through the tall grass. When he reached the ocean side, he stopped—drawn by the sound of waves sighing against the rocks like a heartbeat older than time itself.
The sea stretched endlessly before him, shimmering like liquid glass beneath the amber sky. Each wave rose and fell in slow rhythm, as if whispering secrets only the heart could understand. The horizon burned faintly with the memory of the sun's warmth, and the gulls cried somewhere far away, their voices thin and lonely.
