NOTE: this story is the past story of Ron and does not represent the original timeline or the stuff that will gonna happen in chapter 6, but still its important to read before continuing with the series.
Ron had not gone to the park in a long time.
Weeks had passed since that day.
School continued. Classes moved forward. Teachers explained lessons that Ron barely heard. Life kept walking like nothing had happened.
But something inside him had slowed down.
Every Sunday morning felt strange now.
The sunlight still entered his room the same way. The dust still floated quietly in the air. The sketches were still pinned to his wall.
Yet the room felt heavier.
Ron sat on his bed with a pencil in his hand, staring at an unfinished drawing.
It was Ruby.
The sketch showed her sitting on the bench with a small smile and a flower in her hand.
But he had never finished the eyes.
He could not.
Ron sighed softly and placed the pencil down.
From the kitchen, his mother called, "Ron? Breakfast is ready."
"I'm coming," Ron replied quietly.
He walked to the kitchen slowly.
His mother placed a mug of warm milk in front of him, just like she always did.
She studied his face for a moment.
"You're thinking about the park again," she said gently.
Ron did not answer right away.
After a moment he nodded.
"Yes."
His mother sat across from him.
"You don't have to rush yourself," she said. "Some memories take time."
Ron looked down at the mug.
"I keep thinking about the last moment," he said quietly.
The memory returned clearly.
Ruby running through the park.
The white flower in her hand.
The sunlight.
And then everything breaking apart.
Ron clenched his fingers slightly.
"I should have said something that day," he whispered.
His mother shook her head softly.
"You were there," she said. "Sometimes that is all we can give someone."
Ron did not argue.
But the feeling inside him remained.
A quiet weight.
School felt distant.
Ron sat by the window in history class while clouds drifted slowly outside.
Kenta leaned over his desk.
"You're spacing out again," Kenta said, tapping Ron's notebook.
Ron blinked and looked back at him.
"Sorry."
Kenta studied his face carefully.
"You went to the park again, didn't you?" Kenta asked.
Ron nodded once.
"Yes."
Kenta leaned back in his chair and sighed.
"I figured."
Ron turned his pencil slowly between his fingers.
"It still feels like she's there sometimes," Ron said quietly.
Kenta did not laugh.
For once, he was serious.
"That bench meant a lot to you," Kenta said.
Ron looked out the window again.
"Not the bench," Ron replied.
Kenta raised an eyebrow.
"Then what?"
Ron paused before answering.
"The moments," he said softly.
Kenta scratched the back of his head.
"You know… people say time makes things easier-"
"It doesn't erase anything."Ron shook his head slightly
Kenta nodded slowly.
"I guess that's true."
The bell rang.
Students stood up and began leaving the classroom.
Kenta grabbed his bag.
"Come grab some fries," Kenta said. "You shouldn't sit alone all day."
Ron gave a small smile.
"Maybe another day."
That evening Ron walked through the park again.
The same path.
The same trees.
The same bench.
The wind moved softly through the grass.
Ron sat down quietly.
The wood creaked slightly under his weight.
He opened his sketchbook.
Inside were dozens of drawings.
Ruby listening to music.
Ruby laughing.
Ruby looking at the sky.
Ruby holding flowers.
He turned the page slowly.
The unfinished drawing appeared again.
The one from that day.
Ron took his pencil.
His hand trembled slightly.
"I never finished this," he whispered.
The wind brushed past him gently.
For a moment he felt the same calm feeling from the old days.
Like the park remembered.
Ron began drawing slowly.
Carefully.
He finished the eyes.
Ruby's calm smile returned on the page.
Ron stared at the drawing for a long time.
Then he closed the sketchbook.
The sky above the park slowly turned darker.
Stars began appearing one by one.
Ron leaned back on the bench and looked up.
"You know," he said quietly, "I still come here sometimes."
The wind moved through the leaves.
"I don't expect anything anymore," he continued.
His voice was soft.
"I just want to remember."
The park remained quiet.
A few white petals drifted past the bench.
Ron noticed them and frowned slightly.
"That's strange," he murmured.
There were no white flowers nearby.
Yet the petals floated gently in the air.
The wind carried them across the grass.
Ron watched them disappear into the darkness.
Something about the moment felt familiar.
But he could not explain why.
He stood up slowly.
"I'll come again next Sunday," he said quietly, almost like a promise.
The wind answered with a soft whisper through the trees.
Far away, beyond the world Ron knew, something had already begun to change.
And soon, without realizing it, his path would cross with Luna's.
Again.