That evening at the workshop, the neon lights on the ceiling flickered, casting long shadows across the black concrete floor stained with oil spills. Beneath the chassis of an old motorcycle, Arata lay on a wheeled creeper board. His hands, wrapped in mechanic overalls rolled up to the elbows, moved nimbly as he tinkered with a wrench.

  Arata was a figure who had grown up well beyond his years. For him, life was about precision—much like the motorcycle engines he dismantled every afternoon. He maintained a difficult balance: in the morning, he wrestled with formulas at school, and in the afternoon, he wrestled with metal at the workshop.

  The fading neon lights of the workshop clashed with the crimson glow of the sunset on the western horizon. Arata wiped his grease-stained hands with a rag, then stepped toward the large wooden desk in the corner where the workshop owner sat.

  "Uncle Kenzo, I'd like to ask for permission. I won't be coming to work at the shop tomorrow," he said in a polite yet firm tone.

  Kenzo, who was busy writing, looked up. He adjusted his reading glasses, which had slid to the tip of his nose. "Really? Did something happen?" Kenzo asked seriously.

  "Oh, no Uncle, everything is fine," Arata replied softly. "I'm just going on a trip to a campsite."

  "Oh, I see. You want to extend your weekend because you're planning to stay overnight," Kenzo replied.

  "Y... yes Uncle, he... he... he," Arata answered, looking down sheepishly.

  "Hey, Arata... why are you going on holiday while we're working? That's not fair...!" Taka shouted mockingly.

  "Ah... youngsters these days, free to go anywhere, anytime...!" Hiro chimed in.

  "Where are you traveling to?"

  A soft but curious voice cut through their conversation. From behind the cashier's desk piled high with notes, a girl with shoulder-length hair and intelligent eyes appeared. Her name was Sora Reina, but everyone in the workshop usually called her Sora.

  "You two... you both have families, it's very different from Arata. He's still on his own, so he's free to go wherever he wants! And I wasn't finished talking to Arata yet, you already cut in," Kenzo protested.

  "Sora, it's not polite to interrupt people's conversations!" Kenzo scolded, though his tone sounded more like a father's playful banter.

  "Sorry, Dad!" she replied gently.

  Arata cleared his throat slightly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Oh... that. I'm just going camping at a location near a river, outside of town," he answered, responding to Sora's question.

  "Oh, alright then. Be careful on the road, and it might be better if you check your bike after you finish work, so there are no issues during the trip!" Kenzo said.

  "Yes, Uncle!" Arata answered firmly.

  Arata returned to his work, leaving behind a decision that Sora had not yet accepted.

  "Wow, that sounds like a lot of fun! Why don't you invite Sora?" Hiro whispered, one of the senior mechanics who was cleaning a wrench at the next table.

  "Yeah, Arata! How can you let a girl as pretty as Sora guard the register all alone on the weekend?" Taka, the other mechanic, chimed in, laughing softly and nudging Hiro's shoulder. Both of them began to chuckle at Arata's awkwardness.

  Hearing his colleagues' teasing, Arata's face suddenly turned red. He stole a glance at Sora, who was now seriously working on her notes. A sense of guilt washed over Arata's heart.

  "I don't know the conditions there yet, so I don't think it's a good idea to invite her. Maybe next time we can go together!" Arata whispered.

  "Ah, that's just a made-up excuse," they replied in unison.

  "Come on Uncles, don't make the situation even more difficult!" Arata pleaded.

  Arata glanced toward Sora, and as it turned out, Sora was also looking at him. Arata was startled, as if he had been caught staring at her all along. Their eyes locked for a few seconds before Sora finally turned her gaze back to the pile of notes in front of her. Her hand began to fiddle with a pen as she continued her work. A hint of disappointment was clearly visible on her face. Sora didn't realize that her father, Kenzo, had been watching her expression with a disguised look of concern.

  Hiro and Taka were still gossiping. They noticed the atmosphere at the cashier's desk had suddenly turned cold. Arata immediately looked down, pretending to be busy tidying his toolbox to cover his immense awkwardness.

  ...

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  After the workshop officially closed, the bustle of engine sounds was replaced by the quiet stillness of the evening. Kenzo had gone into his house on the second floor, while Sora was still busy tidying up the records at the cashier's desk, though her eyes occasionally flickered toward the front door.

  In front of the workshop, Arata, Hiro, and Taka sat side by side on a long wooden bench with peeling paint.

  ---

  "Come on! Just imagine it, you two sitting by the river, sharing a meal..." Hiro nudged Arata's arm with a teasing grin.

  "I'm sure Sora likes you!" Taka cut in. His voice suddenly turned serious and suspicious. "Anyone with eyes can see the way she looks at you when you're busy with an engine. There's a different spark there, my friend."

  "Uncles... stop talking about that," Arata countered quickly. His voice rose, trying to mask his suddenly erratic heartbeat. "I don't know the conditions of the campsite yet. What if it's dangerous?"

  "Ah... you're so boring!" Hiro laughed loudly while slapping Arata's back hard enough to make him almost choke.

  "You're a man; it's only natural for you to be a protector for a woman. Believe me, if that camping area is well-known, it's bound to be crowded and safe. And if Sora tags along, the atmosphere would be much more pleasant than just staring at the river water alone like an old man with too many worries. Trust me, the view will be twice as beautiful with Sora by your side."

  Hiro was about to continue his teasing when a shadow appeared from the darkness of the workshop door.

  "Here are some drinks for you all."

  The voice was cold and flat, but the effect was like a lightning strike that made Taka and Hiro jump from their bench. Arata instinctively stood up straight, stiff, as if he had just been caught red-handed committing a big mistake.

  Sora stood there. She carried a tray with three glasses of iced tea. Her face looked so calm—too calm—making it difficult for anyone to guess whether she had heard the entire string of jokes about her or not.

  "W-wow, Sora! Since when were you there?" Hiro asked with a forced laugh, trying to normalize his heart that had just skipped a beat.

  "I agree with the view becoming twice as beautiful," Sora replied shortly, cold and flat. She placed the glasses one by one on the empty bench beside them.

  The silence was sudden. Taka suddenly felt the need to observe a line of ants passing by his feet, while Hiro became intensely interested in studying the label on a used oil bottle nearby as if he had never seen it before. Arata himself could only freeze, wishing a dimensional portal would open beneath his feet right that second so he could disappear.

  "Drink up, before the ice melts," Sora continued.

  "Thank you, Sora," the three of them uttered.

  "Yeah, you're welcome. Make sure you return the tray and glasses before you go home!"

  She stared at Arata—a deep look that was hard to decipher—then without another word, she turned and walked back into the workshop. After the wooden door creaked shut, Taka exhaled a long breath he had been holding.

  "Look at what you've done, Uncles," Arata hissed in a panic. "She definitely heard it. What now?"

  "Look, she brought drinks," Hiro whispered, nudging Arata again. "Can't you really see it? She has feelings for you, Arata."

  "What if she tells Uncle Kenzo that we were gossiping about his daughter?" Arata said, panicked.

  "Hey, calm down. That won't happen," Hiro replied while finishing his drink.

  "It might. You're the one who started it, Hiro," Taka said threateningly.

  "Why me?" Hiro shot back.

  "You're the one who said the view would be twice as beautiful if Sora went with Arata, right!" Taka accused while gulping his drink.

  "Hey... that was just a metaphor. Besides, they're teenagers. It's natural for them to like each other, and who knows, they might become a couple," Hiro said casually.

  "Uncles, please... stop talking about this. Don't start rumors!" Arata pleaded.

  "Alright, young man. Enjoy your holiday tomorrow. Take care on the road, and don't forget to bring back souvenirs. We're heading home!" Hiro said casually amidst the chaos he had created. He walked toward his motorcycle, followed by Taka.

  "Uncles... don't leave me alone! This isn't over yet...!" he shouted, worried about what would happen next.

  "Hey, you have to return the glasses and the tray. Besides, you're the one who has to explain to Sora why you didn't invite her... Ha... ha... ha..." They left Arata alone on the bench.

  Arata didn't answer. He reached for one of the glasses. The coldness from the glass seeped into his palm, but his mind only grew more cluttered. The "peaceful" trip he had longed for now felt much heavier and more complex than he had anticipated. He didn't realize that from behind a window blurred by dust, the silhouette of a girl stood still, eavesdropping on every word carried by the wind.

  Hiro and Taka's laughter slowly faded along with the roar of their engines, leaving Arata alone in the creeping silence of dusk. Arata sighed, looking at the three empty glasses on the bench. He stood up, picking up the glasses and arranging them back on the wooden tray.

  The ground floor of this workshop was his workplace, but the second floor above was home to Kenzo, his wife, and Sora. Arata stepped inside, intending to return the tray to the small kitchen at the back of the workshop before heading back to his own small room above the grocery store.

  However, just as Arata pushed the heavy wooden door, his steps locked. Right behind the door, Sora was already standing still. The girl wasn't doing anything; she just stood there with her arms crossed, blocking the way.

  Arata startled, his heart pounding from the shock, but his hands instinctively gripped the edges of the tray tightly. Fortunately, the glasses on top didn't fall, only clinking softly against each other.

  "Y-you... you scared me, Sora," Arata said, trying to steady his irregular breathing. "Haven't you rested yet?"

  "I'm the one who always locks the door after you all leave," Sora answered.

  Arata cleared his throat, feeling the awkwardness grow more suffocating. "Thanks for the drinks. Taka and Hiro really liked them."

  Sora only gave a small smile, a cold reaction that made Arata feel truly guilty even though he wasn't sure exactly what his mistake was. The girl escorted Arata to the door. Behind the door, she watched Arata start his motorcycle and prepare to say goodbye.

  "Sora... I want to say something about the camping trip..." Arata said hesitantly. "I don't—"

  "Tomorrow, before you leave, stop by here," Sora said, cutting Arata off without looking at his face.

  Arata frowned. "To the workshop? But I already asked for permission not to work. And I plan to leave very early."

  "Just come," Sora cut in firmly, this time in a tone that brooked no argument. "And be careful on your way home."

  "Alright, I'm heading out. Good night!" Arata said as he sped off on his motorcycle.

  Sora watched Arata disappear between the dim streetlamp posts. From atop a radio tower, two red dots of light glowed. A figure that had been watching Arata's every move since his time at the orphanage.