"Hah!"

  She gasped.

  Yaori woke up with a lurch forward, then lay back down. Up at the ceiling, star-shaped, glow-in-the-dark stickers glowed with a dimming green hue, something she had asked Ayaka to buy when she was just a kid.

  Friday was a day when she crashed the moment she returned home. She was just too drained to care about anything else. And the room had been given the Ayaka touch, was organized, and tidied to perfection.

  Her uniform, otherwise clumped on her chair, was nicely folded on the table. Since it was afternoon when she returned home, the curtain would be open, but it was closed, the blue fabric hitting the floor. And her bag was moved elsewhere.

  She drew in a deep breath, letting out a sigh when she realized Ayaka had fixed the place up halfway through her sleep.

  ''Ghn…''

  The grogginess set in, and her breathing was still shaky.

  With her hand hovering over it, she grabbed the sides of her temple.

  Her pajamas had certain parts folded about, showing signs of her rough sleep. It seemed like her rest did her more harm than good.

  Using her other hand, she grabbed the tip of her hair, getting a feel for its shape and state.

  "Gosh…"

  Her worries, intact when she hit the sheets, did not get relieved by resting. The last moments of reverie in her head were spent obsessing over a non-existent scenario; the thought and conjured image of Raichi not being saved from the bullies, which left her breathless upon waking up.

  The image in her mind haunted her from the inside: Raichi's glasses, broken and twisted as they lay on the ground.

  Her hand that was on her temple fell to her eyes, putting a lid over them.

  She tried to remind herself it didn't happen, that it wasn't real. She knew the truth, yet the possibility felt all the more daunting.

  "S-Stop it,"

  She let out a rough sigh, letting her arms fall behind her head.

  The bed and its weight felt especially enticing after such a hard day.

  Sleeping didn't help, but forgetting the day seemed fairer, easier than the alternative. She had never found oversleeping to be such a comforting, honey-faced reality.

  Messing around in her bed, Yaori finally got up a few minutes later. Still dressed in her light pajamas, she left her room and headed for the kitchen through the corridor, dazed.

  Upon entering the kitchen, Yaori called out for her sister, her groggy voice cracking mid-shout.

  "Nee-san?"

  "Yaorii!" Ayaka cheered before Yaori even approached her. "I see you managed to wake up."

  She found her big sister by the stove, smiling at her with grace.

  The motherly yet sisterly figure, Ayaka, was dressed neatly in her casual clothes, with an apron on, a stewpot on the stove, and the ladle inside the pot held in her hand.

  Her long, chestnut-brown hair matched that of her little sister in color, but cut just past her shoulders. The warm, amber eyes of hers, as always, drew her sister right in. She exuded maturity, as expected of someone her age.

  Every morning, Yaori would wake up to a warm meal prepared by her sister, and often, a warm shower would be waiting for her by the time she returned. On special occasions, such as celebrating, Ayaka would get sweets, especially strawberry-flavored ones. And every other week, she'd be treated to a book from her favourite bookshop, which created a hard-to-pay tab that was paid out of Ayaka's pocket.

  Yaori looked up to her sister. Ayaka was everything Yaori ever hoped to be. Capable, frugal, and outstanding. She knew how to cook excellent meals, clean like a maid for hire, and was good at everything she did.

  "Um, did I keep you waiting for dinner, Nee-san?"

  "No, not at all. I ate at work, so it took some time for me to get hungry myself. Wanna throw a guess as to what I'm making today?"

  "I smell… pork!"

  "Yup, tonjiru soup!" Ayaka clapped her hands together. "Seeing you all sleepy and tired, I thought something to renew your energy would be fitting for tonight."

  Yaori felt bad for sleeping in for so long.

  "I apologize, by the way. I, um, felt pretty out of it today."

  "No need to apologize, Yaori-chan. I took care of everything, so rest assured."

  Ayaka continued to stir the soup in the pot with one hand, the ladle clinking.

  "But, you know how easily I wake up… you even closed my curtains and fixed the room."

  Ayaka chuckled at Yaori's concern. "You're saying that like you aren't aware I clear up after you every other day."

  "And you're saying that like it'll make me feel better about it, Nee-san!" She pouted. "Worst of all, you clean everything, including the… guest room! You still keep doing it, so what's the point in tiring yourself out…?"

  The ladle dropped from Ayaka's hand inside the pot, making a heavy splash sound.

  She slowly turned toward the stove, her other hand clenching into a fist.

  I shouldn't have done that.

  Yaori took a step back, the silence too heavy on her. She had touched a nerve by accident, something which Yaori had a fear of.

  It didn't make her afraid because Ayaka might turn into a monster or anything of the sort—quite the opposite.

  There was a difficult past hanging in between their lives and her relationship with her beloved sister. She didn't want Ayaka to think she was ungrateful, and no matter what, she always showed appreciation and considered Ayaka's well-being. Seems this time, she had crossed a line.

  "I-I'm sorry, I didn't—"

  "It's fine, Yaori-chan," Ayaka said, sharp enough to cut steel. "Old habits die hard, after all."

  "B-But I—"

  Ayaka didn't interject, yet Yaori still couldn't finish her sentence, her string of thought ripping before it could form something solid.

  The ladle started stirring again, her other hand clenching into a fist before letting go.

  "Enough gloomy talk, okay? I prepared a bath for you, better take it before dinner is ready. I'll also be preparing some side dishes alongside, so it'll take a while."

  "O-Okay."

  Yaori nodded, but it fell on blind eyes. She twitched, reluctantly making her way toward the door, looking back at her sister one last time.

  Ayaka didn't move, perhaps because she could sense the eyes on her. Yaori didn't bother insisting during a moment like this.

  She walked to the end of the corridor from where she had come.

  Her big sister was like any other human being. However, seeing her act differently was one of those moments that sent a shiver down Yaori's spine. If diving in the water would help relieve it, then she would take Ayaka on her offer, without hesitation.

  The bathroom waited across the narrow hallway. Once Yaori stepped inside, her eyes fell on the clothes Ayaka had left for her.

  A sigh escaped from her mouth—a tired, frustrated one, the third of the day. She gripped the clothes tightly, then let them fall back on top of the laundry basket where Ayaka had put them.

  The mirror was, for the most part, foggy as far as the eye could see. Beside the sink, she reached for the nearby shelf, taking a towel and a washcloth, undressing herself.

  Lastly, she tied her hair up with a clip, heading for the stool under the hanging faucet, turning the water on for the shower.

  After a solid five minutes of showering, she rinsed her body thoroughly, then moved over to where the bathtub was, pulling off the bathtub cover.

  She let herself soak gradually, the hot, steamy water wrapping around her like a blanket, easing the tension on her shoulders.

  Condensation hung onto the wall, trailing down. Dripping sounds echoed as they hit the bathtub water.

  Her eyesight was relatively bad and blurry without her glasses. Yaori preferred to close her eyes, hands resting on her chest. Despite the warmth, she was shaking a little bit. Was it the intense heat of the water? Or was it Ayaka's sorrow prior? She didn't want to know the answer.

  She opened her eyes, drawing circles on the surface of the water. Her thoughts spiraled through this past week of school.

  The book she had borrowed from Raichi still sat in her bag. She had long since taken the bookmark off of it, since she had read it by now.

  Her first few days felt like seeing the sun again after a period of rain and gloomy, cloud-filled weather. She had made a new friend.

  And yet, for his sake, she was willing to throw it away. Raichi seemed like a delicate soul, such as herself; that much was clear by his reaction after having been rejected by Haruki. That occurrence led to them making a promise.

  If any one of them were to feel down, helpless, and in need of company, they would come to the park together. However, they had only come to that the first time they went there.

  The Yaori she showed him was not the real her. She wanted it to be, yet she succumbed to her own sense of identity.

  The real Yamada Yaori didn't even know how to properly take care of herself, capable of merely studying. She was textbook smart, but not street smart, or possibly the other way around, based on perspective.

  "No. He'll talk to more people now. I won't be holding him back."

  That was her thought process. She had to handle herself. Her impotence was a personal matter, one not to be shared with Raichi, for it would be a burden.

  Then, why make the promise at all? Wasn't that the entire point?

  "Why does it hurt so much?"

  She went too far, she thought. To trust someone was one thing, but to put that loneliness on that someone's shoulders meant that she would be going astray.

  She wondered— if Raichi knew the real girl, tied to her own red, strung fate, would he still go out of his way to save her? Would it be worth keeping a frail bookworm such as herself?

  In the end, she buried her face in the water, letting bubbles float back up to the surface, her hands clenched on her knees.

  Her head rose back up with a gasp for air, rolling back again.

  "...I don't know what to do anymore."

  The idea of Raichi seeing her as a stranger hurt her inside, even if it would be for his sake.

  The conditions that led to their meeting notwithstanding, putting distance between him and herself felt like losing a part of her.

  All this shower thought, over someone she had ignored the calls of. Regret pulsed through her, more suffocating than the strings tied to her.

  She sank deeper into the water, falling as low as her chin. However, she had to float above the surface, to scrape by, all in an effort to keep her sister's dream alive. Raichi's safety, too, was now hanging in the balance.

  Not long after wrapping up her thoughts, she pushed herself upright, the warmth slipping away and dropping back onto the tub. The water was left behind, yet her worries had only surfaced.

  By the time she stepped out of her own room, her hair was almost dry from the towel and the leftover steam. Post-washing sweat rolled down her forehead, and the cool air inside the hallway tickled her skin.

  The kitchen was relatively warmer than the rest of the house, and assuming dinner was ready, Yaori promptly headed for the room.

  Inside, Ayaka filled bowls up with tonjiru, setting them on the small table for two. On said table was also a plate of tamagoyaki. In addition to a bowl of rice, cups filled with barley tea, and a dish of pickles.

  Ayaka turned around with a bubbly smile on her face, clapping her hands.

  "Had a good soak, Yaori-chan?"

  "I did. Thanks for going through the trouble of preparing it, Nee-san."

  "Don't mention it. Perfect timing, actually. As you can see, dinner is ready. I was just about finishing up."

  "Really? I thought I might have dawdled too much in there, so I dried in a bit of a hurry…"

  "You're right on time, Yaori-chan. Also, are you sure you didn't make haste because you were hungry?"

  "Um…" Yaori scratched the back of her neck, laughing. "I might have?"

  Ayaka didn't waste a second, scraping a chair back as she nudged for Yaori to sit down.

  "Hehe. That's so you, Yaori-chan." She tilted her head, smirking. "Who could even resist my cooking, am I right?"

  Yaori blinked, realizing that Ayaka offered her a seat. "A-Absolutely!"

  Ayaka sat beside her on the other chair, putting aside her apron.

  They looked at each other, and Yaori could sense some brooding behind Ayaka's thoughtful eyes, likely because of the buttons she had pushed earlier. Seeing no point in dragging that topic further, Yaori brushed it off.

  The two sisters then both brought their hands together, clapping in unison.

  "Thanks for the food!"

  Yaori first took a sip of the soup, the broth coating her tongue like a thin layer of cream.

  She grabbed her chopsticks and took a big chunk out of the contents of the soup, putting it in her mouth.

  Delicious as always!

  The yellow broth, steaming hot, gave off that extraordinary umami taste, and the miso salt, softened by the tender pieces of pork and vegetables, had excellent mouth-feel.

  The carrots added the tiny bit of sweetness it needed, in addition to the earthy burdock and garnish. And the ginger left an aftertaste.

  Not missing out on the rest of the table, Yaori reached for a bite of rice, taking a big chunk, rather noisy as she swallowed it whole.

  And the tamagoyaki, with its golden layers, had a gentle sweetness and savory dashi to boot.

  Yaori didn't know much about cooking, but she knew her sister's was unmatched compared to anything else she had seen out there.

  "Sho good!"

  "Glad you like it! You seem to be in a better mood now."

  "How could I not be? Your cooking is the best, Nee-san."

  "Hehe. Hearing your compliments every day makes me as happy as you are eating them, Yaori-chan."

  Yaori continued devouring the Ayaka special. Even the pickles weren't spared. Right after a refreshing hot bath, homey goodness was like a cherry on top.

  Though memories of the day lingered, Raichi getting caught reaching out to her, then being summoned to Nishikigi's quarters, and bullies ganging up on him before heading there.

  Even if for a short moment, the heaven-sent food allowed her to collect her thoughts again.

  She reached for another sip of tea, the warm liquid heating her insides, all the while her sister watched attentively.

  Ayaka placed her chin on her hand, clearing her throat as if asking for Yaori's attention.

  "By the way, Yaori-chan." She began, taking a sip of her bowl. "I have something to tell you about my weekend plans. Sunday, to be more precise."

  Her chopsticks paused mid-air as she was letting them fall.

  "Sunday?"

  "Mhm." Ayaka nibbled on her rice. "It's about Mom. I will be visiting her for most of the day. She's uh, had to spend the day at the hospital. It is pretty far, and I won't be back until evening."

  "Oh."

  Mother Yamada's health was slowly but surely deteriorating, which had Ayaka concerned as of late, having eavesdropped on her without intending to. Her years of smoking on top of her mental issues had caught up to her.

  Yaori would rather not let her feelings for her stop her from pitying her mother, so she buried that topic deep in her head, somewhere she couldn't access without forcing herself to.

  "That means you would be home alone, and for almost half a day. I thought that, just maybe, it would be better if you spent the day at Hon no Sato. It's a bookshop and a library, so you could read, study, and have warm company. And I'm confident your access to food would be safer than heating our food or making your own at home."

  The thought of being at Hon no Sato, normally a comfortable place like the ginkgo tree, should bring her leisure. Yet, it felt like the opposite, making her chest tighten.

  From her perspective, being alone in the quiet of her home and sitting by herself inside a bookshop with people actively passing by and present, felt like the illusion of choice, one sugar-coated and one not.

  "I plan on talking to Tetsuya-san tomorrow. I hope he won't mind. I'm already immensely grateful to him as is."

  "Mm."

  Yaori understood where her sister was coming from. Leaving her small sister in the hands of a long-trusted shop owner, whom she is grateful to, seemed sensible and safe.

  What difference does it make?

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Both the Yamadas had ties to Tetsuya Sato of Hon no Sato. Ayaka had racked up a tab, and Tetsuya kindly let it run, saying that they could pay it whenever they could. The tab, rather than decreasing, only increased in debt, with Yaori consistently stopping there after Ayaka had lost interest in reading.

  For Yaori, it was another home. But with how she was feeling, it felt like being placed somewhere she didn't belong. The quietude of a public space felt equally pricklier than that of their home in her fragile state.

  Yaori grabbed a single piece of pork with her chopsticks, holding her shoulders back from slumping.

  "It won't be for too long, though!" Ayaka added. "Not to mention, they still regularly decorate and broaden that corner you love. Your entire shelf is effectively from there, isn't it? I figured you'd get by pretty well there."

  "R-Right." Yaori forced a nod, looking down at her piece of rice as grains fell back inside its bowl. "That sounds… nice, I think."

  Ayaka smiled, turning her head back toward her bowl, satisfied with the answer.

  With that, Yaori took one last sip and bite of her bowl, leaving the soup bowl completely dry, along with the empty bowl of rice.

  As her thoughts reflected on the upcoming days, she found it hard to face them, leaving her future self to deal with it when the moment comes.

  ??????

  "I'm going out for a bit!"

  Yaori called for Ayaka from the genkan, putting on her usual black shoes.

  Ayaka sprinted over, coming out of the kitchen in a hurry, a towel wrapped over her head.

  "A-At this hour, Yaori-chan? Just where are you planning to go?"

  "Getting some air. I was going to use a vending machine and come back, and digest all the food we ate properly."

  Her response was on the practical side of things. If the personal reasons were to be listed, however, it would be as simple as 'I felt like it.'

  The early autumn nights were starting to get colf fast. As such, she dressed somewhat accordingly, throwing on a casual late-night homewear anyone would wear when stepping out for a moment.

  She had on a soft navy hoodie, pulled over a basic white tee, and paired them with loose gray sweatpants that reached down to her ankles. It wasn't particularly warm or appealing.

  "Well, okay. Don't wander too far this late, please."

  "I won't. I'll be back shortly."

  Ayaka waved below her chest. "Have a good walk, Yaori-chan."

  "Thanks, Nee-san."

  Yaori soon stepped out and closed the door behind her, the sliding door making a soft clack.

  Her hands reached for her elbows as the cold air surrounded her like a blanket. The lamps along the sidewalk lit up the dark blue street with a muted orange.

  Their neighbourhood was fairly lonesome this hour of the day. No cars passed by, and many shops had closed up. The cicadas, highlights of this past season, had dwindled in number and volume.

  She tugged her hoodie sleeves down over her hands, walking down the road at her own slow pace.

  The pattern of the sidewalk trimmed below her feet as she made her way over to the narrow crossroads, which, when going left, split to the children's park.

  Her steps slowed when her eyes recognized the metal wiring of the park. Even wandering in the dark, she could make out the outline of the yellow ginkgo tree.

  Standing in front of the gate, a few steps would be all it would take for her to be inside its walls. Her fingers curled, clutching the fabric.

  However, it was like an invisible wall stopped her from moving at her hip, her foot floating mid-air.

  Maybe not tonight.

  If she went in now, sitting on that bench in the quiet of the night, it was very possible that memories would swallow her whole, for the park of comfort could be turned over its head. Instead, the vending machine glowing down the street felt more inviting, and she turned on her heel towards it.

  Yaori approached the blinking light of the old vending machine, digging into her pockets for some change.

  The coins in her purse jiggled softly coming in contact with one another.

  She fed one of the bills into the slot of the vending machine.

  Unfortunately, the machine spat it right back out.

  "Huh?"

  The bill needed some messing around with, perhaps some smoothing against her palm.

  Trying again, the bill got rejected a second time.

  Her nerves clumped up as she tried pressing it against a corner, an attempt to brute-force the bill into working by straight-up flattening it into oblivion.

  A second later, the machine rejected the bill, beeping multiple times.

  Yaori jerked back, eyes furrowing.

  "Wh— come on!"

  Yaori's hand clenched into a light fist, grunting.

  She reacted on impulse as she let her frustration take over, swatting the panel edge of the machine.

  An agonized sound escaped her lips, and a metallic crack rang out, scratching her ears.

  "—Oouch!" Right away, the impact spot above the ridge of her index finger knuckle burned like hot acid. "Stupid machine! Stupid me! Why did I do that!?"

  A second passed, and a throbbing pulse of pain climbed up her wrist. The sting felt like it was blooming, the familiar feeling of scraped skin.

  The scrape soon looked much more like a wound, the rose-red color gathering and spreading.

  She blew on the spot over and over like a piping hot bowl of soup made by her sister. It didn't do any good.

  As she spaced out looking at the now horrible wound on the back of her right hand, her gaze fell below the vending machine.

  "Gosh…"

  When she straightened back up, she put her hovering hand cradling against her chest. The chilly air created quite a contrast against her burning, raw skin, which caused her to hiss in pain.

  Among the ambient sound of faraway cicadas and the humming of the vending machine, a boy's voice sounded loudly from her left, making her head turn in its direction.

  "Yamada-san!?" The boy called out.

  "I-It's you!"

  A tall, boyish figure approached her, his one hand in his pockets, and the other, holding a cup of supermarket coffee.

  Most notably, even in the dark, his blond hair was hard not to notice.

  Kimura Hiroshi, a high-ranking member of the student council, classmate, and popular kid, stood in front of her.

  Hiroshi seemed to find her reaction comedic somehow.

  "Haha. You sound more surprised to see me than I am to see you."

  Yaori kept her right hand tucked under her sleeves and in her pocket before Hiroshi would be able to see it.

  "W-Well, I didn't expect to see anyone out here, much less someone I recognize."

  "You recognize me?"

  "Why wouldn't I? We're classmates."

  "That's fair."

  Kimura Hiroshi was a dear friend of Raichi's, that much was clear to her.

  Though she didn't talk to anybody in class, observing them had always been some sort of hobby for her. Hiroshi had always seemed like the type of guy who could get along with everyone. It did explain why Hiroshi talked to her like she hadn't been ignoring him the entire previous term.

  "Are you having trouble with that thingamajig?"

  "The vending machine? Yes, a little bit." She showed him the bill with her left hand. "It's not accepting it."

  "Oh? Lemme see."

  "Here."

  After grabbing the bill, Hiroshi put a great amount of effort into examining it. For some reason, though, he pocketed the bill at lightning speed, his expression as flat as stone.

  "H-Huh? But that was my—"

  "Hiroshi reached for his other pocket, bringing his arm out before Yaori could finish her sentence.

  In his hand, he held another bill of the same amount.

  Yaori's gaze went up from his hand to his face, blinking with her mouth left agape.

  "This should do. That specific machine is very stubborn. The whole world could come to an end by the time it spits out something decent."

  "You know?"

  "Yup." He nodded. "Used it plenty of times."

  Yaori paused for a moment before taking the bill from his hands. Hesitating, she backed up a step or two, bowing in appreciation.

  "Thank you."

  "Anytime."

  Her reflection shone through the glass, on the spot her eyes landed, the price tag and button under the hot tea she had been eying.

  "Soo, uhh…" Hiroshi muttered, his feet going back and forth on the ground.

  "Yes?"

  Yaori spoke over her shoulder as she pressed the button, and the hot tea made clacking sounds against the bulge on the outer side of the machine.

  "While I am here, would you mind if I asked a question or two? It's been… bugging me for some time now."

  Yaori's fingers shook. "Um, it depends."

  "T-Then…!" Hiroshi stopped himself from raising his voice. "You can tell me to stop when I say something I shouldn't, okay?"

  "...I think I know where this is going." She laughed, almost pitying herself. "Feel free."

  Hiroshi was Raichi's best friend, and, seeing as he was given the best seat to hear all the conversations the bookworms had behind him, his dilemma was increasingly obvious.

  Her hot tea in her hand, Yaori turned around to face Hiroshi, who shifted his weight and exhaled through his nose.

  "It was… about you and Raichi, as you might expect. You seemed pretty close at the start of this week. You two are uh, good, right? Did anything weird happen between you two?"

  The tea almost dropped from her hands. To put her other, injured hand on the can and heat it felt all the more enticing, yet she had to keep it hidden under her sleeve for a little while.

  She had braced herself for any Raichi-oriented question, and so it hit gentler than she expected it to, as bizarre as it was.

  "I mean, we're friends." Her voice trailed off. "Trying to be, at least."

  Hiroshi let out an ambiguous sigh, easy to confuse for a laugh.

  "Was that supposed to be reassuring?"

  Her foot shuffled back and forth as she thought to herself, the tea swirling inside.

  "He's… easy to talk to. More than I expected, since I am not good with people."

  "Could've fooled me." Hiroshi shrugged. "You two got along like you've known each other since kindergarten."

  "T-That's not true!" Her cheeks heated. "We haven't even known one another for a week."

  "Yamada-san… you think I don't hear your talks behind me? And I've known him since middle school. Believe me when I say, that's not how he talks to people. He doesn't talk to people, period." Hiroshi tapped his coffee can. "He was… softer, for lack of a better word."

  Yaori's hand squeezed the can, causing a bulge to appear on the metal's surface.

  "Softer?"

  "Yeah, softer, indeed." Hiroshi echoed, chuckling afterward. "He's not one to lower his guard. His reach has always been small. Suzuki and I had friends all over the place despite cherishing our trio, yet his position would often make him stick out like a sore thumb."

  "Stick out?" The words slipped out of her mouth.

  "Yes. Back in middle school. Even when in a common group, me and Suzuki would be the only one talking to him. The other friends next to us had such little interest in talking to him to the point that I'd argue they don't remember his name. It was simply his standing in class that made this happen, as unfortunate as it is."

  The hot tea in her hand was quite the contrast to how freezing Yaori felt hearing about Raichi's isolation.

  "That's… so sad to hear. He hadn't told me."

  "Heh. I wasn't supposed to tell you in the first place." Guilt gnawed in Hiroshi's eyes. "After all, Raichi wouldn't see it as worth telling, either."

  Why would Raichi not confide in anybody if it bothered him, especially to someone who has been friends with him for years, Yaori thought.

  The last time she had been in a similar dilemma, her sorrow had crushed her inside under its weight, leading her to sit under the ginkgo tree and her inevitable encounter with Raichi.

  "Then, that means he had gotten accustomed to having limited company."

  "I wouldn't word it like that, but I guess so." Hiroshi's thoughtful gaze went across the street, coffee reaching for her mouth. "I'm… sorry for dragging this out. You must be busy as is."

  "No, please, don't be." Yaori's determined gaze met his. "I'm still confused, and would like to know more. The reality that I know very little about Sato-kun is… an eclipsing feeling."

  Despite having a top reputation of her own, Yaori considered herself an observer. Observing meant not being involved, like a neutral country in a war. For that, Raichi was an exception.

  Being involved with him made her truly realize that out of anyone in her life, he was the most complex. After seeing him at the park, she had been drawn to him like a magnet, she realized.

  "I can only interpret that as… you saying you want to grow closer to him and learn more about him, am I right to assume that?"

  "U-Um!"

  Her cheeks flushed a deep red when Hiroshi reflected her choice of words back at her. The vending machine whirred behind her as the cold breeze clashed against her chest.

  Hiroshi put his free hand on his chest, where his heart was.

  "I'm not trying to tease you or anything with that," He took a rapid triple sip of his coffee, exhaling. "It just… caught me off guard, is all."

  Yaori took a sip of her tea in turn, eyes fixated on the can itself.

  "I realize that now."

  The next thoughts in her mind remained ill-defined, unable to mould into words. She wouldn't have to do anything, however.

  "It's so strange, haha." His laugh didn't hold any power behind it, devoid of taste. "You know, talking about him like this. It is something I would usually do with Suzuki, and maybe his parents if they rope me along, sometimes. Dawned upon me just how small his circle actually is."

  Yaori's eyes wandered up to him, guilt-ridden and hesitating. "Does it— does it bother you at all?"

  "Huh? Bother me?" He tilted his head.

  "That I'm asking you. About him. Do I come off as… meddling?"

  Hiroshi thought to himself for a moment, then turned his back to her, free arm behind his head. His one foot shuffled back and forth.

  "It's not you meddling, more so that I might… be overstepping, like I was leaking something private."

  For personal reasons, the line between privacy and social life was rather blurred for Yaori. And because of that, she couldn't know just how sensitive or how understanding Raichi could be of Hiroshi's retelling. If it weren't for Hiroshi's remark, it was probable that she'd still think a boundary was transgressed, and that she wasn't any different from her gossipmongers.

  "You mean…?"

  "Yes, truthfully, I did think I might be making a mistake by telling you this at first, but…" Hiroshi still had his back to her. "I think, Raichi wouldn't mind. Not if it was… you."

  Her heart skipped a beat as she stiffened, even if a little. That warmth going down to her chest wasn't caused by her sip of tea.

  "You think so?"

  A sip of coffee followed, and Hiroshi took a gradual turn to face her again, eyes drifting down to the coffee can.

  "If you haven't realized by now, then you should know, Raichi's a picky guy." He stared off into space before shaking his head. "Picky in… his choice of books, movies, and notably, people. He wanted me and Suzuki to stay around, because he desired it. Do you know where I am going with this? I think you should be able to tell."

  "You're saying…"

  Hiroshi shrugged, not confirming or denying Yaori's thought process despite not having a clue about what she could conclude from it.

  "Think of it what you will, but I trust your judgment."

  Yaori's petite fingers tightened around the now warm can, her mind swirling with thoughts like the tea in her hands.

  She nodded.

  "Then, can I ask just one more thing?" The words alone took all the air out of her chest. "I've been wondering for a while."

  Hiroshi's brows furrowed. "Shoot away."

  This next step required a precise choice of words, as if one slip-up might put their forming quiet bond in jeopardy.

  She drew a shallow breath, eyes unable to meet his.

  "It's about before, years before." Her teeth connected in an effort to suppress the pain, hand pulsing again. "Wh-when, Sato-kun wasn't here, in Uji."

  "W-Wasn't here?"

  "He mentioned it once, back when we first met. He said he had been away for a while, and when he merely said it in passing, I didn't think much of it then. I did wonder, now that you talked about him."

  Her courage, drawn from the depths of her heart, made it possible for her to look him in the eye again as she raised her head, now in sight of a Hiroshi who was listening with all five of his senses, mouth agape.

  "Before he left… what was he like?"

  As if it wasn't convenient enough, the vending machine stopped breaking ice and shut its noise for good, her voice cutting in the looming night.

  "Before he left… haha. He told you that?" Hiroshi combed his hair, looking away. "That he went to Nara?"

  "O-Only that he went. It was like I wasn't meant to hear it at all, plain small talk."

  "Uh-huh." Hiroshi responded like he believed it and denied it at the same time.

  Not tripping over her nerves was hard, as was the curiosity that surrounded the profile of Raichi. If she had made communication between the two of them easier, she wouldn't have had to resort to asking Hiroshi, who seemed to be taking his sweet time absorbing the information.

  "Is it wrong of me?" Yaori paused. "To ask that of you, I mean."

  "No, it was just… you know, encountering you in the first place was not on my bingo card today, so," Hiroshi cleared his throat, waving his hand in front of his face. "Forgive my surprise. I did not expect to be talking this much about Raichi in one day. Much less with someone other than Suzuki."

  "Take it easy, please."

  Despite making her patience clear to Hiroshi, her hurting hand would say otherwise. If the conversation were on its terms, the first priority would be to find some gauze and ice as soon as possible.

  "Truth be told, I was wondering how much of himself Raichi let you see. The answer was much more than I expected. As for how much he's changed, it is up for interpretation. But being our age, it can be boiled down to a few things."

  "Boiled down to what?"

  "Simply put, how were you back in middle school?" Hiroshi glanced away, his head turning toward the end of the street back where Yaori came from. "Even if you were in Raichi's shoes, you'd still be a little child. The part of your life where you're the most free."

  "I-In other words…" Yaori could connect the dots.

  "He's matured, much like any of our peers. From experience, he knows who is worth talking to. That's what's changed about him. Making the effort to talk to someone this way, it is… new for him."

  "Matured." Her mind latched onto that word more than the rest.

  You would expect someone like Raichi to be immensely popular, yet according to Hiroshi's account of his past years, circumstances led him to adopt a closed-off status.

  Yaori could relate to him, in a way. Entering high school, all of her previous friends eventually cut ties with her. If Raichi were to do the same, she wondered, would her reaction be any different?

  "Either way, you know what, Yamada-san?" Hiroshi finished his coffee by taking one last sip. "No matter what happens, I'm rooting for you."

  "R-Rooting? For me?"

  Hiroshi nodded, a wry smile finally appearing on his lips. "Hm. I can tell you two haven't been getting along as much as you used to the first few days. I believe he won't stop himself from trying, if you just return the sentiment once. He needs it."

  "K-Kimura-san…!"

  Hiroshi's consoling words had her on the verge of crying for a moment, lips curling and eyes tearing up, before she held herself back.

  If Raichi were to cut ties like she thought, Yaori was certain she wouldn't take it well. No, she'd weep for days on end. She was that attached to him. Now, having a common friend in Hiroshi, gratitude overwhelmed her.

  "T-Thank you, Kimura-san!" She laid both her hands on her chest, with the tea clasped in one hand. "I'm extremely thankful!"

  "Hahaha! What's with the formality all of a sudden? No need for all that!"

  "Hehehe." Yaori couldn't help but giggle, the same type of laughter one would have in the process of healing. "Guess so."

  "We're friends now, aren't we?"

  "...Yes, indeed we are."

  Her cheeks were flushing, and heat went up to her ears, not only because of the cold, but also the nature of this conversation.

  The sleeves of her hoodie fell down to her waist as her arms were curled up toward her heart. In the midst of palpable warmth, her eyes closed on their own.

  However, as she fell deep in thought, Hiroshi's footsteps could be heard reaching closer, and when she opened her eyes, she was met with Hiroshi looking down at her chest, worried out of his mind.

  "Oi, Yamada-san! What happened… to your hand?"

  Hiroshi raised his arm, a hesitant finger pointing toward her wounded hand.

  Strong winds swept over them, her hair blocking her vision.

  He stood there, waiting for a response.

  The pulsing crimson pain in her hand couldn't contain her smile.

  "Oh, that?" Yaori laughed, not an ounce of sorrow going through her head.

  "Y-Yes, that! Are you…?"

  "It's nothing!" She laughed again, brows furrowed. "You um, needn't worry about that! I'll… be fine."