[Naoki Aiba POV]
That morning, on my way down the stairs, I spotted Mikage and her friends near the shoe lockers.
Raindrops dripping from their four umbrellas formed small puddles on the gray floor.
Three of them were chatting as they shook out and folded their umbrellas, and Mikage stood just beside them, smiling.
Just catching sight of that expression brought back the words of the letter I had read over and over last night.
—I look forward to the day we can go eat crepes together.
Every time I reached that single sentence, a warmth spread deep within my chest.
The fact that Mikage had remembered our promise.
The fact that she had told me, a nameless stranger, that she wanted to see me again.
The happiness I felt about that remained unchanged this morning.
However, the person Mikage knew when she wrote that letter was only the version of me inside the fire.
A nameless stranger who had plunged back into the smoke and carried her out.
Not the me here at school.
Mikage suddenly looked up.
Our eyes met.
I tried to return an expression just as I always did, but I was a fraction of a second too late.
—Mikage might have already realized.
The possibility I had been turning over in my mind since last night overlapped with the Mikage standing right in front of me.
For a brief, fleeting moment, I had no idea what kind of look to put on my face.
I quickly composed myself.
Had she noticed that momentary slip?
I couldn't tell from her eyes.
Her bright ash-beige hair, heavy with the morning damp, swayed gently against her cheek. Mikage continued to look at me, her expression softening.
"Good morning, Aiba-kun."
She raised her voice slightly so it wouldn't get swallowed by the sound of the rain and the surrounding chatter.
We hadn't seen each other yesterday. Perhaps because of that, the moment she called my name, the tight knot in my chest loosened just a bit.
"Good morning, Mikage-san."
When I replied, the tension around Mikage's eyes eased slightly. There was no sign of her being on guard.
She wasn't trying to avoid me either. Even so, I found myself searching her gaze for any hidden meaning.
Did she know I was the one from the fire?
Or was she talking to me just as before, as Koharu's older brother?
Unable to be certain either way, I waited for her next words.
"Aiba-kun, um—"
Mikage started to say something.
Just then, a stream of students coming down the stairs surged between us.
I stepped back against the wall to keep my right shoulder from being bumped. The space between us widened, and a flurry of passing bags and umbrellas briefly hid her from view.
"Sorry. What is it?"
Once the crowd cleared, we faced each other again.
Mikage didn't answer right away.
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes fixed on my face. It seemed as though she wanted to say something, yet couldn't find where to begin.
Before I read the letter, I would have simply been happy that Mikage was reaching out to talk to me of her own accord.
Now, I caught myself hunting for hidden motives behind that silence.
Maybe she was trying to confirm who I was.
Maybe she was about to ask if I had read the letter.
Or maybe she was regretting having gotten so close to me in the first place.
Just as I tried to rein in my baseless assumptions, Mikage spoke.
"—No, never mind. Let's do it another time."
For a moment, my response lagged.
It wasn't that I was being pushed away.
If she said "another time," then Mikage still intended to talk.
I should have taken it at face value, yet the unease that had settled in my chest refused to lift.
Leaving enough room for her to pass, I shifted to the side.
"Sure. See you later, then."
"See you later, Aiba-kun."
At the very least, Mikage's voice sounded the same as always. Giving a slight nod, she began walking deeper into the entrance hall.
After a few steps, I almost looked back.
A part of me still wanted to know what she had been about to say. But it wasn't my place to chase after words she had chosen to leave unsaid.
I faced forward again.
—Another time.
Was it a promise for our next conversation?
Or had she merely put off something she couldn't bring herself to say right now?
The same phrase lingered in my mind, split between two entirely different meanings.
◇◇◇
By the time first period began, the rain drumming against the windows was coming down harder than it had that morning.
Water running down the glass formed thick rivulets, weaving and merging as they trailed downward. Through the distorted pane, the opposite school building lost its outline, appearing much farther away than it actually was.
Listening to the teacher's lecture, I copied the notes from the blackboard into my notebook.
I thought I was following along just fine.
Yet before I realized it, I had transcribed the exact same line twice.
I took an eraser to the paper. I must have pressed down too hard, because the surface frayed slightly beneath the friction.
"Aren't you acting kinda off today, since this morning?"
From the desk beside me, Togo whispered quietly.
"We're in the middle of class."
"I know that. But it's not like you to write the same thing twice."
"...You were watching?"
"Just happened to catch it. Besides, you've been staring out the window the whole time."
"I was just wondering how hard it was raining."
"Enough to stare at it nonstop?"
Before I could fire back, the teacher glanced in our direction.
Togo promptly dropped his eyes to his textbook, acting as though nothing had happened.
I turned back to the blackboard as well.
A few minutes later, Togo scribbled a quick note in the margin of his notebook and angled it toward me.
Lack of sleep?
Instead of nodding, I wrote back along the edge of my own page.
A little.
It wasn't a lie.
Last night, even after putting the letter away in my drawer, sleep wouldn't come. I had gotten out of bed multiple times just to reread the stationary.
Togo seemed convinced and didn't pry any further.
I pulled my focus back to the teacher's explanation and tracked the chalk across the board.
Even so, after just a few lines, Mikage's silence from this morning drifted back into my thoughts.
Only she knew what she had meant to say. I didn't want to force it out of her, which was why I had resolved not to push from my end.
I knew that, yet I kept turning those unuttered words over and over in my head.
A heavy spray of rain lashed against the window.
The thin streams tracing the glass shattered, merging with another trickle before washing away.
◇◇◇
Even as lunch drew to a close, the downpour showed no sign of easing.
Perhaps because I had spent the entire morning guarding my right shoulder, the joint felt dull and tight.
A faint chill brushed along the nape of my neck.
The windows were shut. It wasn't as if the classroom was particularly cold, either.
Assuming the rain had simply dragged the temperature down, I didn't pay it much mind.
There was still a little time left before the bell.
Staying in my seat would only keep my thoughts running in circles. Deciding to stretch my legs, I stood up from my desk.
Because of the storm, the doors leading out to the courtyard were locked tight.
Without any particular destination in mind, I simply wandered through the halls.
Normally, the corridors were packed during lunch break, but today most students seemed content to stay in their classrooms. The view outside the windows was a blur of white mist, obscuring even the far edge of the courtyard.
Guarding my right shoulder, I made my way slowly down the hallway.
Moving around helped loosen the tension in my shoulder slightly, but it did nothing to dispel the deep, heavy fatigue weighing on my body.
As I rounded a corner, I spotted a student walking toward me from the other end.
Short, neatly styled dark brown hair.
A pair of slightly drowsy-looking eyes fixed directly on me.
It was one of Mikage's friends.
She appeared to be coming from the direction of the library, cradling a book slightly larger than a paperback in her arms.
We had crossed paths in the infirmary before.
Even after that, she had glanced my way several times while hanging around Mikage. There were multiple occasions where she would look at me, then immediately shift her gaze toward Mikage. They were evaluating eyes, as if she were trying to confirm something, though I could never quite read the emotion behind them.
Neither of us slowed down as the distance between us closed.
Assuming we would simply pass by each other, I edged slightly toward the window to keep my right shoulder clear.
Her gaze shifted up toward my face.
Her pace seemed to hitch for the briefest fraction of a second.
Yet she said nothing.
I passed by her without a word, either.
It had been nothing more than a passing encounter.
Even so, that almost imperceptible hesitation in her step and the steady look she had given me lingered strangely in the back of my mind.
◇◇◇
By the time afternoon classes began, the chill I had felt during lunch had disappeared.
In its place, a dull, throbbing heat settled behind my eyes.
Whenever I looked at the blackboard, it took an extra beat for the letters to come into focus. I figured it was just the aftermath of barely sleeping last night. Telling myself that, I continued taking down the teacher's notes.
All the while, the rain gradually drained the light from the world outside.
Partway through fifth period, an announcement crackled over the intercom.
All club activities for the day were canceled. Students without urgent business were instructed to head home as soon as classes concluded.
The moment the broadcast cut off, a chorus of voices rose across the room.
Everyone was busy checking train delays or figuring out who was walking to the station together.
Beside me, Togo turned around.
"You heading straight home today?"
"That's the plan."
"Want to walk to the station together, then?"
"Sure."
After tossing out his confirmation, Togo turned back toward the front.
I turned my eyes back out the window.
I had been treating the things Mikage saw as two distinct people.
The me from the fire, and the me here at school.
In truth, though, they were the exact same person.
The real question was whether Mikage could see it that way, too.
That wasn't something I could decide for her.
I had no choice but to wait until she was ready to say the rest of what was on her mind.
◇◇◇
The final bell rang.
Looking up, I saw everyone around me immediately packing their bags to leave.
The notes written toward the end of class still remained on the blackboard.
I checked my notebook.
The final section was missing entirely.
Relieved that the teacher hadn't erased the board before leaving, I turned back to the chalk writing.
"Aiba, want me to wait for you?"
Togo stood beside my desk, his bag already slung over his shoulder.
"No, go on ahead. I'm going to take a few more minutes."
"Got it. Don't take too long, either. Sounds like the rain's only going to get heavier."
"Will do."
Togo gave a casual wave and headed out of the classroom.
The rest of our classmates filed out one after another, bags in hand.
Flicking my eyes between the blackboard and my notebook, I filled in the gaps.
By the time I wrote down the last line, the room had fallen completely silent.
I packed my notebook and textbook into my bag.
Sliding the strap over my left shoulder, I pushed myself up from my desk and noticed that the heaviness in my limbs had worsened since lunch. The lack of sleep was really catching up to me now.
Shaking it off, I walked out of the classroom.
The school building was deserted and quiet. Even the distant echoes of voices were quickly drowned out by the relentless roar of rain beating against the windows.
By the time I made it down the stairs to the first floor, a dull ache had settled across my back on top of the stiffness in my right shoulder.
A few students still lingered by the shoe lockers. Every time the glass doors slid open, gusts of wind swept inside, scattering a fine spray of rain across the tiles.
I slipped off my indoor shoes and changed into my street shoes.
—The moment I straightened up, my vision tilted slightly.
I caught myself with my left hand against the shoe locker.
The dizziness passed almost immediately, so I went ahead and shut the locker door.
It was just lightheadedness from being tired.
Grabbing my umbrella from the rack, I popped it open with my left hand.
The instant I stepped outside, a wall of heavy rain hammered against the fabric above me.
Wind-driven rain whipped against the hem of my uniform trousers, and shallow puddles rippled frantically at my feet.
If I caught the right train, I might actually find an open seat.
Once I got home and crashed, this heavy feeling would probably clear right up.
Adjusting my grip on the handle, I headed for the school gates.
A few paces in, a chill remarkably similar to the one from lunch crept down my spine.
Telling myself I was just cold from the wet wind, I kept my feet moving.
Rainwater pooled along the curbs, rushing violently into the storm drains.
A passing car sent a massive wave of water splashing onto the sidewalk, prompting the nearby students to scramble back from the road in unison.
I took a step closer to the building wall as well.
The motion instantly brought back the memory of students surging between Mikage and me this morning.
—Let's do it another time.
Even now, I didn't know what she had meant by that.
Even so, I had no intention of pulling away just because I was in the dark.
The next time I saw her, I would greet her by name just like I had today.
If she decided she wanted to share what she had held back, I could just listen to her then.
I reached the intersection.
The buildings across from the traffic light were blurred and indistinct through the gloomy rain. The station was supposed to be just past them, but from here, neither the rooftops nor the transit signs were visible.
I came to a stop at the red light.
Streetlamps and car headlights cast long, bleeding reflections across the rain-slicked asphalt.
The overlapping streaks of light wavered on the water's surface, until it was impossible to tell where one ended and another began.
The me inside the fire.
The me here at school.
How Mikage chose to look at those overlapping reflections wasn't up to me.
The light switched to green.
I shifted my umbrella and stepped forward.
Partway across the crosswalk, I noticed I was steadily falling behind the rest of the pedestrians.
There was no need to rush. Once I reached the station, I could rest.
With that thought, I let the crowd pull ahead without trying to match their pace.
By the time I reached the other side of the street, their silhouettes were already fading into the downpour.
My body felt heavier than usual.
Still, it wasn't enough to stop me in my tracks.
Once I got home and slept, I would probably be completely fine tomorrow.
Reassuring myself, I tightened my grip on the umbrella.
The station that was supposed to be waiting through the rain was still nowhere in sight.