The secondhand bookstore was half-buried behind a row of vending machines and rusted signage, the kind of place you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for quiet.
Lately, I'd been coming here more often—not for the books exactly, but for the silence that came with them.
I brushed my hand along the edge of a cracked shelf, fingers landing on a dog-eared volume of poetry.
"Don't think I've seen this one before," I murmured.
The words weren't familiar, but the cover was worn with love. I flipped through a few pages and paused.
A message from ChattyBreeze had stuck with me all week: bookstores smell like peace.
I slipped my phone out of my pocket, thumb hovering before I tapped open Chatterfield.
[ChattyBreeze]: bookstores smell like peace
[MidnightEcho]: the dusty kind or the cafe kind?
[ChattyBreeze]: dusty. always dusty
[MidnightEcho]: agreed
The screen glowed faintly in my hand.
I leaned against the shelf, a sliver of quiet pressing in around me. It felt steady. Like we were still here. Like nothing was changing, even though everything probably was.
I made my way toward the counter, still holding the poetry book. The guy at the register—mid-thirties, kind-looking, hoodie that had definitely seen better days—looked up and smiled.
"Find something good?"
I nodded, setting the book gently on the counter.
"Yeah. Kinda surprised it was still here."
He rang it up, chuckling.
"Stuff like this sticks around until the right person finds it."
I gave a soft laugh.
That wasn't something I would've responded to before—not out loud, anyway.
"I guess today's my lucky day then."
"Looks like it," he said, handing me the book in a paper bag. "Come back anytime."
I nodded again. "Thanks. I will."
Small words. Easy ones. But they didn't catch in my throat the way they used to. Not anymore.
Chatting had taught me that—even if no one saw it happening.
The sidewalk still glistened from a light drizzle earlier in the evening, catching orange light from the streetlamps overhead. I stepped over a puddle, plastic convenience store bag in one hand, phone buzzing in my pocket.
Work had ended late again.
"Typical Wednesday," I muttered, swinging the bag a little.
Earlier that day, before work, I met up with Yuki, Mika, and Hana outside the school gates.
We didn't have anything specific planned—we just ended up wandering toward the station, grabbing snacks, and killing time before I had to clock in.
They walked me halfway to the store, chatting the whole way.
While we waited near a vending machine, the girls clustered around me like always. Yuki had noticed it first.
"You're on your phone a lot lately," she said, poking at my arm.
"It's just messages. Nothing big."
"Since when do you answer messages faster than you answer in class?" Hana added with a grin.
Mika smiled gently. "It's kind of cute, though. Like you're hiding a secret pen pal."
"Or a whole secret life," Hana teased. "You've barely looked up from that screen all week."
"Yeah," Yuki chimed in, pretending to squint at my phone. "At this point, I'm half convinced you're dating your wallpaper."
I rolled my eyes.
"You guys are seriously overthinking it. He's probably a bot," I joked.
But truthfully, I wasn't sure anymore. I was a little tired, but it wasn't the bad kind. It was that soft kind of tired—the one that came from doing something normal, something stable.
At home, I dropped my bag on the floor, headed to my room, and sat cross-legged on my bed.
I brushed out my hair and opened Chatterfield without even thinking.
[Midnight Echo]: tired?
[ChattyBreeze]: not in a bad way. just that warm tired where you know you did okay today
[Midnight Echo]: that's the best kind
[ChattyBreeze]: i haven't written anything in my notebook lately. the words just kind of float
[Midnight Echo]: sometimes floating is okay. not everything needs to land
I set the phone down beside me and smiled at the ceiling.
"He always says stuff like that," I said softly, almost to myself. "Like he's writing it for someone else to hear it too."
It didn't feel like loneliness. Not tonight.
Two rooms. Two screens. Two souls accidentally finding rhythm.
MidnightEcho is typing...
[ChattyBreeze]: are we weird for liking this so much?
[MidnightEcho]: maybe. or maybe everyone else is just missing out
A pause. Then both their status indicators go still.