Wednesday after school. The afternoon sun streaming through the staff room window dyed the files on the shelves orange. The voices of students heading to club activities drifted in faintly through the open window. Takagi-san sat at her desk, a lesson plan file open in front of her. But her eyes weren't following the text. She was just staring fixedly at the same line. Nishikata's words from the hallway yesterday kept spinning around in her head. ——Because we were classmates in middle school. (*That's all*) Takagi-san pressed her lips together tightly. Deep in her chest, something creaked and groaned. The fingertips turning the pages of the file trembled ever so slightly. From the entrance of the staff room, Sanada and Houjou watched the scene unfold. Sanada kept her large brown eyes locked on Takagi-san as she tugged on Houjou's sleeve beside her. "[whispers] See? I told you she's been acting strange since yesterday." "[gentle] ...Yes." Houjou nodded quietly. She, too, had seen Takagi-san's retreating figure at the corner of the hallway yesterday. "[whispers] If we leave her like this, Takagi-san's going to stay all depressed until her teaching practicum ends. I want to do something about it." Sanada's voice carried genuine urgency. Her straightforward nature—unable to leave someone in trouble alone—was rising up inside her. "[gentle] You're right." Houjou readjusted the sketchbook she held against her chest and, with a quietly thoughtful gesture, tucked her flaxen hair behind her ear. "[gentle] Sanada-san, do you like sweets?" "Eh? I do, but... ah!" Sanada's face lit up brightly. "So you mean let's just go eat something sweet for now!?" "[laughing] Fufu, exactly." Houjou let out a small laugh and gently pushed Sanada's back. Sanada nodded firmly and strode over to Takagi-san's desk. "Takagi-san!" At the sudden call of her name, Takagi-san flinched, her shoulders trembling. When she looked up, Sanada's sparkling smile was right there. "[excited] Hey, do you want to go to that café near the port? The three of us? I heard their cake is super delicious! Right, Houjou-san?" Houjou, who had walked over slowly from behind, came to stand in front of Takagi-san's desk. "[gentle] Takagi-san, why don't we take a little break? You've seemed so tired lately." Takagi-san looked back and forth between their faces. Her mind couldn't keep up with the sudden invitation. "Ah, thank you. But, I'm fine, really..." Her voice came out so small it surprised even herself. Sanada leaned forward assertively. "[serious] Your face doesn't say you're fine." At those words, Takagi-san couldn't say anything. Sanada's large eyes were staring straight at her. It felt like all her lies and brave fronts were being seen right through. "...Okay." Takagi-san gave a small nod, as if resigning herself. --- Café Harbor Bell stood on a small hill overlooking the port. White walls, a deep blue awning. Above the door, a small ship's wheel was displayed as decoration. *Clink-clank*, went the doorbell with a light, cheerful sound. Inside, the rich aroma of coffee mingled with a faint scent of the sea. From the window seats, you could take in a full view of Minatohama Port. The evening sea shimmered and swayed, reflecting the soft light. From the back of the counter, Fujiwara Yasuko appeared. The shop owner, a gentle-looking woman whose white apron was always crisply starched. "[gentle] Welcome. A party of three?" "Yes! Three cake sets, please!" Sanada answered as energetically as if she were in her own home. Takagi-san's lips relaxed just a little at Sanada's momentum. The three sat down at a window seat. Takagi-san by the window, Sanada on the aisle side, and Houjou across from her. With the cakes brought before them, Sanada promptly picked up her fork. "[excited] That teacher definitely likes you, Takagi-san. He was totally panicking yesterday too! When you were talking in the hallway, his ears were bright red!" Sanada popped the strawberry from her shortcake into her mouth as she pressed Takagi-san relentlessly. Takagi-san held her coffee cup cradled in both hands. The steam wavered unsteadily in front of her face. "...Let's not talk about that." Houjou was watching Takagi-san's hands holding the coffee cup. The dark surface of the liquid inside was trembling faintly. (*She's near her limit.*) Houjou murmured that in her heart. That was when it happened. *Clink-clank.* The doorbell rang once more. Someone entered the shop. All three of their gazes turned toward the door in unison. Standing there was— Nishikata. In his hands, he clutched a student career counseling notebook. His feet stopped dead. "Eh..." Nishikata froze for about three seconds, looking at the three by the window. Takagi-san reflexively looked down. Sanada nearly dropped her fork. "Ah!" Only Houjou quietly watched Nishikata. Her blue eyes were instantly calculating how to process this coincidence. An awkward silence descended upon the shop. Nishikata forced his mouth open. "Ah, um... is it crowded here?" Sanada immediately shot back. "[sarcastic] It's practically empty." Indeed, there were no other customers in the shop. "Ah... right." Nishikata scratched behind his ear. A habit when he was troubled. "[gentle] Sensei, why don't you join us?" It was Houjou who extended a helping hand. She lightly indicated the seat next to her. "Eh? But..." As Nishikata hesitated, Fujiwara Yasuko's voice rang out from the counter. "[gentle] Perfect timing. Sensei, just sit yourself down there." There was no escape. Nishikata sat down next to Houjou—which meant, directly across from Takagi-san. The worst possible four-person table was now complete. Awkward. The silence threatened to freeze even the cake on the table. "...Shall we talk about class, then?" Nishikata forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. After what happened yesterday, he had to talk to Takagi-san properly. But he had absolutely no idea what to say. "[cold] ...I suppose." Takagi-san's voice was cold and curt. Her face remained downcast. Every time Nishikata searched for words, her expression grew stiffer and stiffer. As if she were putting on armor, piece by piece. Sanada, gripping her fork tightly, watched the two of them intently. The moment Nishikata tried to say something else innocuous— Sanada stood up with a loud clatter. She slammed both hands down on the table. The cups shook, rattling softly. "[angry] That's enough! Would you just cut it out already!!!" Sanada's loud voice echoed through the quiet café. Fujiwara Yasuko stopped what she was doing at the counter. Nishikata looked up at Sanada with wide eyes. Sanada's large eyes blazed brightly with anger. "[angry] Nishikata-sensei, who is it that you like!?" The shop froze over. Only the steam from the coffee dissolved thinly into the air. No one could move. That was when it happened. *Screee—*. Only the sharp sound of a chair being pulled back rang through the shop. "...Sorry, restroom." Takagi-san forced the words out as she stood up. Head still lowered, she walked briskly toward the exit. The doorbell let out a foolish *clink-clank*. "T-Takagi-san!" Nishikata kicked his chair back and stood up. "Wait!" He dashed out of the shop. The sloping road leading down to the port, bathed in twilight. Takagi-san's back was visible in the distance. "Takagi-san!" He ran. He was out of breath. The career counseling notebook tucked in his uniform's chest pocket thumped against his side with every stride. At the end of the slope, on the wide road in front of the port, he caught up to Takagi-san's back. "T-Takagi-san...!" Takagi-san stopped walking. But she didn't turn around. She just stood there, rooted to the spot, her back still facing him. Nishikata tried to catch his breath. But his heart was pounding too loudly, and the words wouldn't come. (*I have to say something.*) What? (*Not classmates.*) So what? (*I, about you—*) Nishikata's mouth started to open—and closed. The words wouldn't come. That evening ten years ago. The day before Takagi-san moved away. It was the same back then. All he could manage was "Take care." It was the same now. Takagi-san's back trembled ever so slightly. Without turning around, she spoke. "[crying] It's fine. I don't care anymore." Her voice quivered faintly. Nishikata heard that voice. He heard it, but he couldn't move. Takagi-san started walking again just like that. The setting sun dyed her retreating figure gold. Her long black hair swayed in the sea breeze, growing more distant, little by little, little by little. Nishikata stood alone in front of the port, frozen. He wanted to chase after her. But his legs wouldn't move. As if they were sewn to the ground, they wouldn't move at all. (*I did the same thing again.*) Pathetic, frustrated, his vision blurred. The sea, stained by the setting sun, burned a fiery red. --- In front of Café Harbor Bell, two figures watched that scene from afar. Houjou stood with her arms folded, quietly gazing at the sea. Sanada hung her head, biting her lip. "[sad] ...I said something weird, didn't I." Houjou shook her head slightly. "[gentle] No. It was something someone had to say." She hugged her sketchbook tightly again and quietly watched Nishikata's figure, standing alone at the distant port. "[gentle] Love is complicated, isn't it." Sanada couldn't say anything. She just stood beside Houjou, watching the sunset. The blazing orange was slowly beginning to shift to blue from the edge of the sea. --- That night. Room 202 of Corpo Shiomi. Nishikata sat at his desk, unable to move. Only the room's light illuminated the desk in white. The Japanese language handbook he had opened for lesson preparation lay untouched. (*I've just been running away the whole time.*) He thought he was just dense. But that wasn't it. He was just scared. Ten years ago, he couldn't tell Takagi-san "I like you." If he said it, and if she rejected him—just thinking that terrified him so much that he covered it up with "Take care." It was the same now. Because he was scared of Takagi-san disappearing from in front of him, he had kept running away behind the words "just classmates." Before he knew it, Nishikata was gripping his own hair tightly. (*Pathetic.*) He clenched his teeth. His jaw ached. But even so— (*I don't want to give up.*) That feeling alone flickered deep in his heart, like a small flame. Nishikata stood up and stepped out onto the balcony. The night sky was a deep indigo, with stars twinkling here and there. In the distance, the sea glimmered darkly. Frustrating, pathetic, and yet still, he didn't want to give up. When Nishikata raised his face, there were no tears in his eyes. Instead, pain and a faint flame burned quietly within them. (*This time for sure—*) He still couldn't find the words that came after. But for the first time, Nishikata faced head-on the fact that he had been running away. He couldn't forgive himself for being unable to move his legs. So—next time, for sure. The night breeze stirred Nishikata's bangs. The scent of the tide from the sea carried just a hint of summer.