The Fading Moon Chapter 17: The Letter Under the Moon

Read chapter 17 of The Fading Moon by MananTayal on NovelPedia.

The days after Jessika's collapse felt different. Not because everything had changed. Because now neither of them could pretend anymore. The illusion that time was endless had disappeared. The future felt uncertain. Fragile. Like glass balancing on the edge of a table. One small push could shatter everything. And both of them knew it. January continued moving forward. Cold winds swept through Tokyo. Snow occasionally covered the streets. The city remained beautiful. But Mike noticed something. Jessika had become quieter. Not sad. Not depressed. Just thoughtful. As if she spent more time inside her own head. Thinking. Remembering. Preparing. The realization frightened him. Because it felt like she knew something he didn't. One evening, they sat together beside the river. The same river where they had shared countless conversations. The same river where promises had been made. The same river where their friendship had first started becoming something more. The water reflected the city lights beautifully. The moon floated above them. Silent as always. Jessika stared at its reflection. Lost in thought. Mike sat beside her. Watching. Waiting. Eventually he spoke. "What are you thinking about?" Jessika smiled. "A lot of things." "Helpful answer." She laughed softly. "Sorry." For a moment, silence returned. Then she suddenly asked: "Do you believe memories can keep people alive?" The question immediately made Mike uncomfortable. Because lately, every deep conversation seemed connected to the same fear. The same possibility. The same future neither wanted to discuss. Still, he answered honestly. "Maybe." Jessika looked at him. "What does that mean?" Mike thought carefully. Then replied: "If someone changes your life..." His gaze drifted toward the moon. "...part of them stays with you forever." Jessika became quiet. Very quiet. Then she smiled. A small but genuine smile. "I like that answer." The following weekend, Jessika called him unexpectedly. The moment Mike answered, he immediately heard excitement in her voice. "Come outside." Mike blinked. "What?" "Outside." "It's eight in the morning." "I know." Mike looked at the clock. Then at the ceiling. Then back at the phone. "Why?" "Because I said so." The line disconnected. Mike stared at his phone. Then sighed. Some things would never change. Thirty minutes later, he found Jessika waiting near a small park. She was carrying a backpack. A suspiciously large backpack. Mike immediately narrowed his eyes. "No." "What?" "What's in the bag?" Jessika smiled. "Secrets." Mike groaned. That answer never led to anything good. After nearly twenty minutes of walking, they arrived at a hill overlooking part of the city. Not the shrine hill. A different one. Smaller. Quieter. More hidden. Few people seemed to know about it. The view was beautiful. The winter sky stretched endlessly overhead. The city shimmered below. And standing alone near the edge was a single cherry blossom tree. Bare now because of winter. Yet beautiful nonetheless. Mike looked around. "Why are we here?" Jessika slowly sat beneath the tree. Then patted the ground beside her. "Sit." Mike obeyed. Mostly because experience had taught him resistance was pointless. For several minutes, neither spoke. The wind moved softly through the branches above. The city seemed distant from here. Almost unreal. Then Jessika opened her backpack. And pulled out a notebook. Mike frowned. "A notebook?" She nodded. "Very important notebook." "Why?" Instead of answering, she opened it. Several pages were filled with handwriting. Dozens of pages. Maybe more. Mike immediately became curious. "What is that?" Jessika looked strangely nervous. A rare sight. Very rare. Then she answered. "My letters." Mike blinked. "What letters?" She looked away. "The letters I've been writing." The answer confused him. "For who?" Jessika remained silent. Then slowly handed him the notebook. His heart immediately began beating faster. Because somehow... He already knew. Th