Chapter 160: Chapter 159 - Listening
Kizuna Community Counseling Center had become something Kuro couldn’t wait for anymore.
Get into the library.
Organize the books.
Prepare the counseling room.
Fill the water pitcher.
Check the waiting area.
It was all simple, silent work.
Ordinary.
But somehow it served as a reminder that someone was coming in bearing the weight nobody could see except themselves.
Having realized his mistake from last time, Kuro now paid even closer attention.
Not to whatever he was going to say.
But to how easily he might misunderstand someone.
"I’ve seen you being unusually silent."
Kuro smiled and said.
"Am I?"
"What’s that for?"
"Practicing something."
"Practicing something?"
"Listening before answering."
Haruka smiled slightly.
"That’s great."
"You do the same today."
---
It was rather quiet at the center.
The rain from the night before had left trees glistening under the morning sun.
Young mothers returned a couple of books.
Office workers participated in the stress management classes.
Children quietly chattered in the reading room.
Nothing special occurred.
Until 10 a.m. arrived.
The door opened.
In came an elderly man.
Probably in his late seventies.
Gray suit was neatly pressed, yet showed signs of wear.
A small pocket watch was attached to his breast pocket.
He brought nothing but a walking cane with him.
Receptionist greeted him with a cheerful tone.
"Welcome, Mr. Takeda."
"Do you remember me?"
She laughed happily.
"You are here every Saturday."
"I guess."
His voice was gentle.
Like the sound of old storybooks.
Haruka came walking past the reception desk at that moment.
"Good morning, Mr. Takeda."
"Haruka."
"It’s good to see that you still pretend to work here."
She laughed.
"Well, I’ve learned from the best."
The old man smiled.
Glancing at Kuro.
"New face."
"Yes."
She gestured toward him.
"Kuro."
The man extended a hand.
"Kazuo Takeda."
"Nice meeting you."
Kuro bowed politely and shook his hand.
"Pleased to meet you too."
Mr. Takeda stared at him.
"You’ve got such gentle eyes."
Kuro blinked.
"...Thank you."
---
Briefly exchanged some phrases more, Haruka took Kuro aside and told him.
"Mr. Takeda isn’t our counseling client."
"He isn’t?"
She shook her head.
"Counseling finished nearly three years ago."
"Why comes he here every week then?"
Gently smiling, she answered his question.
"Because he loves chatting."
---
Her response surprised Kuro.
"Chats?"
"Sometimes..."
She glanced at the elderly man.
"...that’s all."
---
Mr. Takeda walked slowly toward the library section.
Not looking for a book, he just stood in front of the shelf and carefully examined each title.
As if saying hello to his old acquaintances.
Kuro helped sorting books around the area.
Silence lasted a few minutes more.
Finally...
Mr. Takeda chose a novel from the shelves.
"Have you read it?"
Kuro nodded.
"I have."
"But I was surprised by the ending."
Takeda smiled.
"Me too."
Quietly chuckling.
"My wife solved the mystery already by third Chapter."
"Have you read with your wife?"
"Yes."
His smile was lingering for a bit.
And then turned slightly sorrowful.
"Wife used to solve all mysteries before me."
Just nodding.
Kuro remained silent.
Neither asking nor trying to continue the talk.
He wasn’t feeling uncomfortable.
On the contrary...
Mr. Takeda kept on talking.
---
"For eight years now she’s not by my side anymore."
His tone was calm.
Not cold.
Simply accepting.
"We’ve been married for fifty-two years."
Looking down at the book he held.
"You know..."
"Funny, isn’t it?"
"I always try to reach another cup for her."
Kuro quietly listened.
"It’s still my habit."
Sorrowfully laughing, he added.
"And my daughter says I have got really forgetful."
He shook his head and quietly replied.
"No, it’s not."
"I remember."
Kuro silently watched him.
His eyes were still staring at the book shelf.
Like searching there for his memories.
---
"Grandson moved abroad now."
"He calls every Sunday."
"I always say I’m fine."
Mr. Takeda gave a faint smile.
"As an old man one learns to lie skillfully."
And again Kuro said nothing.
"...Why?"
The elderly man glanced at him.
"Because kids tend to be worried."
"And parents..."
Quietly chuckling.
"...even old parents..."
"...don’t want their kids to worry."
Kuro quietly nodded.
"I see."
---
Another silence followed.
Lasting more than a minute.
It was peaceful in the library.
Birds chirping in the sunny courtyard outside.
Elderly man quietly put back the novel he chose.
"You see..."
He began.
"People think being lonely is the same as being alone."
Sorrowfully smiling he added.
"But it’s not."
"It’s having a lot of stories..."
"...to discover with time passing that there’re fewer and fewer people who remember them."
Kuro felt this sentence hit his heart hard.
He wished to say something.
Comfortable words of compassion.
But there seemed nothing appropriate.
Instead...
He stayed silent.
Remaining standing besides the elderly man.
Listened to his words.
Kuro didn’t feel compelled to choose the right words for his answer for the first time since the start of his volunteering.
Maybe...
There weren’t any.
Or maybe it was unnecessary to say anything.
Looking outside the library window at a single falling leaf, Mr. Takeda softly said,
"Wouldn’t mind if we sat down together for a while?"
Kuro brought a chair for him.
"Glad to."
The man smiled.
"So am I."
Their conversation had just begun.
Kuro drew closer to the window, pulling his chair with him.
Mr. Takeda took his place in the chair opposite his, placing his hands on the cane.
Neither of them hurried to say something.
The library was quite silent.
Besides the ticking of the wall clock, all that could be heard was the turning of pages occasionally.
A few more minutes passed before Mr. Takeda chuckled.
"You know..."
"You remind me of my grandson."
Kuro tilted his head in confusion.
"Really?"
"He used to sit there quietly too."
"Or rather..."
"My wife always complained."
"She said that..."
"He’s too quiet,"
The man smiled warmly.
"But I always told her..."
"Quiet guys hear things that others don’t."
Kuro smiled.
"I don’t know whether that’s true."
"It is."
Mr. Takeda stated firmly.
"I’ve been living long enough to know."
---
The old man looked out through the window.
"When you are young..."
"You believe that time goes slowly."
"And you’re eager to grow into an adult."
"One day..."
"You look into the mirror."
"And for some reason..."
"The young guy disappeared."
He chuckled quietly.
"I sometimes feel like twenty-five."
"My knees have other ideas."
Kuro couldn’t help but laugh.
"They seem to be more sincere."
---
Silence stretched for several minutes.
But this time it wasn’t awkward.
Rather, it seemed as if both of them understood that silences were also part of any conversation.
After a while, the man began to speak.
"Tell me..."
"What is it that you miss the most?"
Kuro fell into thought.
"Your wife?"
The old man smiled.
"That’s definitely the answer."
"But that’s not what I was looking for."
He scanned the library.
"What I miss the most..."
"I miss being needed."
Kuro was silent.
"When I was younger..."
"I worked."
"I would fix various stuff."
"Whenever my kids had questions..."
"They would come to me for advice."
"My wife asked me to help with groceries."
"My grandson asked me to teach him chess."
He smiled.
"Each day..."
"Somebody would need me."
His smile slowly faded.
"Now..."
"Now everyone is telling me to go and rest."
"They say..."
"Don’t worry about that."
"We’ll take care of that."
He chuckled quietly.
"They mean well."
"But..."
His fingers squeezed the cane slightly.
"Sometimes it seems like kindness hides old folks behind the screen."
---
Kuro couldn’t help but look down.
He had never thought about it like that.
People frequently talk about assisting the elderly.
They rarely ask whether it hurts to no longer be needed.
Mr. Takeda continued.
"My daughter visits weekly."
"My grandson calls me every Sunday."
"They are amazing people."
"I appreciate them so much."
He smiled.
"But gratitude..."
"...does not solve loneliness."
---
There was no need for any speech.
Kuro remembered the lesson that Haruka gave him.
Silence is important.
Not every moment needs to be filled.
Right?
And, indeed...
Mr. Takeda found his words eventually.
"I started visiting here after my wife died."
"At first..."
"I thought that I needed counseling."
He laughed quietly.
"I might have been."
"But now I realize..."
"I don’t always need answers."
"What I actually needed was somebody..."
"Somebody who would listen to stories that have not been heard by anyone else."
---
Finally, Kuro managed to say something.
"I’m happy to have heard your stories."
The old man smiled.
"So am I."
"You see..."
"I have told my stories to my family members."
"They listen."
"But they are busy."
"They’ve heard them countless times."
He looked around the silent library.
"You listened as if you heard them for the first time."
Kuro scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Yeah."
Mr. Takeda chuckled.
"They were new."
---
It was eleven o’clock when the clock struck loudly.
An hour had already gone.
Neither Kuro nor Mr. Takeda seemed to be aware of that.
Haruka saw them sitting there talking.
She smiled quietly and kept moving along her path.
She didn’t need to interrupt anything.
---
After some time, Mr. Takeda started getting to his feet using his cane.
"My daughter will be here in a bit."
Kuro stood up.
"Thanks for spending time with me."
The old man shook his head.
"No."
"You helped me."
He adjusted his jacket and added,
"Young people usually believe that they should come up with clever statements."
"That isn’t necessary."
"In most cases..."
"All you need is attention."
Kuro nodded.
"I’ll bear that in mind."
"I hope so."
---
The silver car stopped nearby.
A middle-aged woman got out.
"Dad."
The man smiled.
"There you are."
He turned towards Kuro.
"Thank you for keeping him company."
Kuro bowed politely.
"It was my honor."
Father and daughter started moving towards the car.
However, Mr. Takeda suddenly stopped.
He turned around.
"Kuro."
"Yes?"
The old man smiled even wider.
"I want to tell you that..."
"I believe this is the first time in a long while that..."
"I didn’t feel like I was speaking to somebody expecting me to finish soon."
For some seconds, Kuro couldn’t figure out how to respond.
Therefore, he just smiled.
"I’m glad to hear it."
The old man nodded once and went inside.
As soon as the car went out of sight, Haruka came closer to Kuro.
"You haven’t said much."
Kuro smiled.
"That’s because he hasn’t either."
He pointed towards the place where the car had gone.
"And yet..."
"He’s gone much happier than he has come."
---
Kuro recalled all of the things that they had discussed.
No answers to loneliness.
Nothing to ease the feeling of sorrow.
Just listening.
Haruka put her arms behind her back.
"Do you understand..."
"Why it is so important for you to stay silent?"
Kuro shook his head.
"Because Mr. Takeda already knows how to live with his memories."
"All he fears..."
"That his memories would vanish with him."
She smiled gently.
"You’ve given him a witness."
The words lingered in his head.
Another witness.
Listening to someone wasn’t only about accepting the pain that they had.
It also meant remembering the important parts of their lives.
That evening, after he had returned home, Kuro took a notebook in his hands.
He flipped its pages until he reached a new one.
He wrote a simple sentence on it.
Sometimes the best present you can give someone... is attention.
He closed the book without putting anything else down.
Perhaps, it was the end of the journey.
