The Color of Farewell is Moss Green - Chapter 1

Ah!

By the time I realized it, it was already too late.

The smartphone I had been gripping tightly just moments ago slipped from my hand as I delivered an uppercut to my boyfriend’s face. It arced through the air before sailing over the railing of the bridge.

With a glance at the bastard crouching and clutching his left cheek, I hurriedly leaned over to peer beneath the bridge. Below, the Kanda River flowed serenely. Oh, no. That was expensive. My iPhone.

“Oww! Ow, ow, ow! Damn it, you violent woman!”

“Shut up, you cheating bastard. Want me to throw you over the bridge too?”

“Eek!”

Ignoring him, I desperately searched for my phone on the water’s surface, but it was nowhere to be seen. Damn it. I tilted my head back, staring at the sky. Goodbye, my data folder. Goodbye, my LINE chat history.

I heard the sound of my ex-boyfriend’s footsteps as he took off running.

“Get lost! Disappear! Don’t ever show your face in front of me again!”

Raising my middle finger at his pathetic retreating figure, I hurled insults at him. “You bastard! You pervert! You two-timing scumbag!” Ah, that felt good.

Once he had completely vanished from sight, I looked up at the sky again from the bridge.

Magic hour. The twilight painted a beautiful gradient, with stars beginning to flicker into view. Their reflections shimmered on the river’s surface. Ah, how beautiful. Any lingering attachment to that sniveling, cheating man had dissolved into the evening sky.

My little device, filled with memories of us—the pictures from our Okinawa trip, the goodnight texts we exchanged every night—had sunk to the bottom of this vast city’s river, never to resurface.

I remained on the bridge, gazing at the sky for a while. By the time the air had turned chilly, I had fully accepted it. This is for the best.

Memories with a man like that? I was spared the trouble of deleting them.

There might be urgent messages from friends or family, but I didn’t have the energy to get a replacement phone right away. Sorry, everyone. I’m going off the grid for a while.

※

I had no idea how long I had been staring at the river.

Tokyo’s nights are bright. The sky, having forgotten true darkness, remained faintly illuminated by buildings and neon lights. Back home in Saitama, the night was a deep, rich navy, splattered with countless stars.

The surface of the Kanda River rippled, reflecting the city lights.

(There are so few stars in Tokyo.)

A city where lights never go out. I suddenly felt nostalgic for my countryside hometown.

(Maybe I should just go back—)

As I rested my hands on the railing, lost in wistful thoughts of home, I sensed someone stopping behind me.

“Um…”

The voice was so quiet, like a mosquito’s buzz, that I didn’t even realize it was directed at me.

“Uh, excuse me… um, miss?”

I turned around, startled to find someone speaking to me.

There stood a young man with delicate features, looking somewhat timid. He seemed quite young, and he was shorter than my 165 cm frame. His skin was smooth and fresh.

A high schooler? No… maybe even a middle schooler?

But then I noticed he was wearing a moss-green apron over a white dress shirt. He looked like an employee from a nearby café.

Yes—I had been to that café a few times. Bridge, I think it was called. They served coffee with a strong, rich bitterness and minimal acidity—delicious.

I had no idea why he had approached me, so I simply tilted my head in confusion.

Seeing this, the young man also tilted his head slightly before quickly straightening up, looking flustered.

“A-ah, I’m sorry for bothering you out of nowhere! I, um, work at that café over there, Bridge, and—”

“Oh, I see. That’s fine.”

I had no idea what was “fine,” but those were the first words that instinctively left my mouth. What a terrible response.

“You’re a regular at our café, right? I remember your face… A-and, well, when I was closing up for the night, I noticed you had been staring into the river for a long time, so, um…”

His eyebrows furrowed like a worried puppy.

“I thought… you might be about to jump.”

At that moment, I must have made the most ridiculous face.

My mouth hung open, my head tilted about thirty degrees, looking utterly dumbfounded—definitely not an expression befitting a twenty-five-year-old woman.

Then, seconds later, laughter welled up inside me.

Oh, I see! So I looked so tragic, staring at the river, that he thought I was suicidal?!

Unable to contain it, I let out a chuckle.

“W-wait, uh—”

The young man’s confusion only made it funnier. Sorry, kid. But his flustered reaction was just too amusing, and finally—

“Ahahaha!”

I burst out laughing.

“Thanks for worrying about me. But I’m fine. I guess I was just spacing out. It’s gotten so dark… I should be heading home now.”

“But…”

“Really, I’m okay! I just had a rough moment earlier, and I got a little sentimental. From the outside, I probably looked pretty suspicious, huh? Ahaha, I’m really sorry—”

“No, that’s not it.”

His tone suddenly grew firm. His gaze, fixed on me, was serious.

Then he said,

“Miss… you’re crying.”

It was only then that I realized the cold tears streaming down my cheeks.