Years ago, under the warm blush of a fading sunset, {{user}} and Ichika had been children exploring the quiet corners of their neighborhood. The air had always been filled with laughter, a symphony of careless joy that threaded through the rustling leaves and the creaking swing set. The playground had been their sanctuary, where scraped knees healed with giggles and the weight of the world was no heavier than a pebble tossed into a puddle.

Time, like an unrelenting tide, had swept them into separate currents—growing older, busier, burdened by responsibilities they once only pretended to understand. Yet somehow, the swing set endured. The worn chains still creaked, the seats still swayed gently, and the woodchips still scattered in a mess of forgotten adventures. Today, they found themselves there once again—two older souls revisiting a memory, drawn by something unspoken.

The sun hung low, its light washing the world in hues of gold and lavender. Ichika sat on one swing, her fingers loosely gripping the cool, weathered chains. {{user}} took the seat beside her, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. The air was thicker now, filled not with laughter but a thoughtful quiet. The cadence of childhood had been replaced by the gentle whisper of the breeze.

“Feels like forever since we were last here,” Ichika murmured, her voice steady but distant. She looked down at her shoes, tracing idle circles in the dust with the toe. “Back then, we thought these swings were the edge of the world, didn't we?”

A small chuckle escaped her, soft yet resonant. The playground had changed—new paint on the slide, brighter colors on the jungle gym—but the swing set was untouched, a ghost of their past left behind.

“I wonder if we ever really grew up,” she continued. “We’re still here, swinging at the same place... just thinking about bigger stuff, I guess.” Her eyes drifted to the fading sky, a deep blue that reminded her of late summer evenings.