The Fading Moon Chapter 14: The Photograph That Couldn't Fade

Read chapter 14 of The Fading Moon by MananTayal on NovelPedia.

Winter settled over Tokyo. The city transformed beneath cold winds and pale skies. Trees stood bare. Breath became visible in the morning air. And every day seemed a little shorter than the last. For most people, it was simply another season. For Mike, every passing day felt precious. Because every day meant more time with Jessika. And every day reminded him how quickly time moved. A week after the first snowfall, Jessika's treatment schedule became more demanding. Hospital visits increased. Doctor appointments became more frequent. Some days she felt strong enough to walk around the city. Other days she barely had enough energy to leave her room. The changes were small. Gradual. But impossible to ignore. Mike noticed all of them. The way she became tired more quickly. The way she occasionally paused while climbing stairs. The way her smile sometimes disappeared when she thought nobody was watching. Yet despite everything... She never stopped fighting. And somehow, that made Mike love her even more. One Saturday morning, Mike arrived outside Jessika's house carrying his camera. When she opened the door, she immediately looked suspicious. "No." Mike blinked. "What?" "I know that look." "What look?" "The planning look." Mike sighed. Apparently she could read his mind now. Jessika crossed her arms. "What are you planning?" Mike held up the camera. Her eyes widened. Then she smiled. "Oh." Immediately she understood. "Photos?" Mike nodded. "Photos." Jessika's smile grew brighter. For the first time all week, she looked genuinely excited. An hour later, they were wandering through one of Tokyo's older neighborhoods. Small streets stretched between traditional buildings. Tiny cafés hid between shops. Winter sunlight painted everything in soft golden colors. It was perfect for photography. At least according to Mike. Jessika claimed every place was perfect for photography. Mostly because she wasn't the one carrying the camera. The day quickly became one of their happiest. Mike photographed everything. The streets. The sky. The old buildings. The winter decorations. And most importantly... Jessika. Every time she laughed. Every time she smiled. Every time the sunlight touched her face. Click. Another photograph. Click. Another memory. Click. Another moment frozen forever. Eventually Jessika noticed. "You've taken more pictures of me than the city." Mike looked away. "No." "Yes." "No." "Mike." "...Maybe." Jessika laughed. The sound echoed through the quiet street. Mike immediately lifted the camera. Click. "Did you just photograph me laughing?" "Maybe." "You absolutely did." Mike smiled. "Maybe." By afternoon, they arrived at a small park. The trees stood bare against the winter sky. A light breeze moved through the area. Several children were playing nearby. The atmosphere felt peaceful. Jessika sat on a bench. Mike sat beside her. For a while neither spoke. Then Jessika looked toward the camera resting in his hands. "You really love photography." Mike looked down. The statement felt strange. Because for years he had ignored that part of himself. Buried it. Pretended it didn't matter. Yet now... Now it felt alive again. Because of her. "I do." The answer came quietly. Honestly. Jessika smiled. "I knew it." Mike laughed softly. "You always act like you know everything." "I do know everything." "No." "Yes." "No." "Yes." For several seconds they stared at each other. Then both started laughing. The familiar rhythm of their relationship remained unchanged. Even as everything else changed around them. As evening approached, the sky slowly darkened. Streetlights illuminated the park. People gradually headed home. The air became colder. Jessika wrapped Mike's scarf tighter around herself. She had borrowed it weeks ago. And apparently had no intention of returning it. Not that Mike minded. Eventually, they stopped near a small bridge overlooking a narrow river. The water reflected countless city lights. The view was beautiful. Jessika leaned a