A Fire That Goes Unfound

Airnote  ·  Kanna  ·  Jun 7, 2026

It might be cruel, he said.

To find someone.
To share a brief time.
Then leave.

Kanna couldn't answer right away.
It wasn't her place to decide, she thought.
But she couldn't lie, either.

A fire that goes unfound is sadder, he said.
Plainly.

Those words fell somewhere quiet inside her chest.

Kanna had been found too.
On the Island Line,
before she got off.

Because she was found,
she could put down roots here.
She could make a place
to keep a fire.

Cruelty and kindness
sometimes have the same shape.

The air after someone leaves is heavy.
But it's a different weight from having nothing at all.

Tonight, rain is probably falling
on Leina's ruin of a room.
But that room
already has the trace of a fire.