The Fading Moon Chapter 8: The Night of Truth

Read chapter 8 of The Fading Moon by MananTayal on NovelPedia.

Mike couldn't remember how long they remained there beneath the shrine tree. Minutes. Hours. Maybe both. Time felt meaningless. The city lights sparkled below like distant stars, while the moon hung silently above them. Jessika's hand remained in his. Neither spoke. Neither moved. The truth she had finally revealed hung heavily in the air between them. For weeks, Mike had sensed that something was wrong. Now he knew. And somehow, knowing hurt far more than not knowing. Eventually, Jessika broke the silence. "You should go home." Mike looked at her. "No." Jessika laughed softly. The sound was weak. Tired. "You don't have to stay." "Yes, I do." "Why?" The question came out quietly. Almost fearfully. Mike stared at her. Because the answer seemed obvious. Because he cared. Because the thought of leaving her alone right now felt impossible. Yet somehow the words became trapped inside his chest. Instead, he simply said: "Because you're my friend." The moment the sentence left his mouth, he regretted it. Not because it was wrong. Because it wasn't enough. Jessika smiled sadly. "Right." The single word felt like a knife. Mike looked away. Coward. That was what he was. A coward who could admit his feelings to himself but not to the person who mattered. A coward who waited until things became complicated. A coward who was running out of time. That night, after they left the shrine, Mike walked Jessika to her neighbourhood. The streets were quiet. Most stores had already closed. Only a few restaurants remained open. For once, neither of them argued. Neither teased the other. The silence felt different now. More fragile. As they stopped near her street, Jessika looked at him. "You don't need to worry." Mike almost laughed. The statement was ridiculous. Of course he was worried. How could he not be? "You expect me to believe that?" "A little." "No." Jessika smiled. At least this smile looked more genuine. "You always were stubborn." Mike raised an eyebrow. "Always?" She froze for a moment. Then laughed softly. "Okay, maybe not always." For a brief moment, things felt normal again. Like before. Like the secret didn't exist. Like the future wasn't terrifying. Then Jessika suddenly stepped forward. And hugged him. Mike froze. His entire body stopped functioning. His brain stopped working. Everything stopped. The hug lasted only a few seconds. Yet it felt much longer. When she stepped back, her eyes were shining. "Thank you." Mike stared. "For what?" "For treating me normally." The answer shattered him. Because suddenly he understood. People knew. Teachers. Doctors. Family. Everyone probably looked at her differently. With sympathy. With pity. With sadness. Yet she didn't want pity. She wanted normal. And somehow, without realizing it, Mike had given her that. Jessika smiled one last time. Then turned and disappeared down the street. Leaving him standing alone beneath the streetlights. Watching. Waiting. Wishing he had said more. The next few weeks became the happiest and most painful weeks of Mike's life. After revealing her secret, Jessika changed. Not completely. But enough. The walls she had built around herself began to disappear. She became more honest. More open. More vulnerable. And as a result, they grew closer than ever before. They visited bookstores together. Explored hidden streets throughout Tokyo. Watched movies. Shared meals. Took photographs. Created memories. So many memories. Almost as if both of them knew how important those memories would become. One evening, they sat beside the river where they had once made their strange promise. The water reflected thousands of city lights. The night air felt cool. Peaceful. Jessika leaned against the railing. Mike stood beside her. "Can I ask you something?" Mike nodded. "Sure." She looked toward the moon. "What do you think happens after people disappear?" The question immediately made his chest tighten. He hated questions like that now. Because every question carried hidden meaning.