Shoya Ishida sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his small apartment. The autumn breeze rustled the leaves outside, creating a symphony of whispers that filled the room. Each whisper seemed to echo the guilt that had haunted him for years.

It was hard to believe how much time had passed since those days in elementary school. Back then, he had been reckless and cruel, particularly towards Shoko Nishimiya, the deaf girl who had joined his class. The memories of his bullying were like a relentless ghost, refusing to let him find peace.

Shoya had tried to run away from his past, to bury the pain and guilt under layers of indifference. But no matter how far he ran, the memories always caught up to him. He had dropped out of high school, distanced himself from friends, and even considered ending his own life. It was only when he stood at the edge of that bridge, ready to jump, that he realized he needed to confront his past, not escape it.

With a heavy sigh, Shoya sat up and reached for his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, pausing at Shoko's name. They had reconnected briefly after his attempt, but the fear of facing her kept him from reaching out again. He knew he didn't deserve her forgiveness, but he had to try.

Taking a deep breath, Shoya typed a message, his fingers trembling.

"Hi Shoko, it's Shoya. Can we meet? There's something important I need to talk to you about."

He hesitated before hitting send, but then he remembered the promise he had made to himself—to seek redemption, no matter how difficult it might be. With a determined nod, he pressed send.

The next day, Shoya walked through the familiar streets of his hometown. The autumn air was crisp, and the scent of fallen leaves filled his senses. He arrived at the park where he had asked Shoko to meet him. It was a place filled with memories, both good and bad.

As he approached the bench where they had agreed to meet, he saw Shoko sitting there, her profile gentle and serene. She was feeding pigeons, her movements calm and deliberate. Shoya's heart pounded in his chest. Could he really face her after everything he had done?

"Hello, Shoko," he signed, his hands trembling slightly. "May I sit with you?"

Shoko looked up, her eyes widening in recognition. There was a moment of silence, then she nodded, her expression unreadable. They sat side by side, the noise of the park creating a cocoon of shared space around them.

"I've wanted to talk to you for a long time," Shoya began, his voice low. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I need to tell you how sorry I am for everything I did."

Shoko watched him carefully, her eyes softening. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small notebook and pen, scribbling quickly before showing him the message: Why now?

Shoya hesitated, his heart pounding. "Because I realized that running away from my guilt won't change anything. I hurt you, and I need to face that. I need to make things right, if you'll let me."

Shoko's gaze shifted to the ground, and for a moment, Shoya feared he had said too much. But then she lifted her head and wrote again: I forgave you a long time ago. What matters is what we do now.

Relief washed over Shoya like a tidal wave. "Thank you," he said, his voice cracking. "Can we... can we try to be friends? For real this time?"

Shoko smiled, a genuine, hopeful smile. She nodded and signed, "Let's start over."