The town I returned to after so long looked just a little bit smaller than the scenery in my memories.

In the shopping district in front of the station, several signs remained unchanged from the old days. The candy store on the corner had closed down before I knew it, replaced by a small cafe. The bus stop timetable was new, but the infrequency of the buses was as constant as ever.

The wind blowing from the sea carried a faint scent of salt. Beyond the town, lush green mountains stretched out, their ridgeline not having changed a bit from the one I gazed at so many times as a child.

It's nostalgic, I thought. But that wasn't all.

Years have passed since I left this town. The things I can remember are gradually becoming blurred, and the scenery that was once taken for granted is now part of a distant memory. And yet, walking down the road leading from the station to my parents' house, I felt as if something I should have forgotten was quietly breathing back to life deep in my chest.

I didn't know what it was.

I just felt like walking a little further.

After dropping off my luggage and taking a breath, I headed out into the town while it was still a bit early for dusk. I had no destination. I walked along the coastal road, turned into side alleys when the mood struck, and tried to remember what used to be there whenever I found a familiar building.