Nishikata couldn't sleep a wink. The image of himself standing frozen at the harbor last night clung to the back of his eyelids and wouldn't let go. Takagi-san's back growing more distant. It was the same as back then. Ten years ago, and now. He hadn't been able to say a thing. *(Just a classmate)* The words that had come out of his own mouth looped endlessly in his head. That's not right. He knew it wasn't right. Nishikata threw off his futon. Outside the window, it was still dark. He looked at the clock — 4:30. Unable to even toss and turn, he just got up. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and slipped on his suit. The face reflected in the mirror looked terribly haggard. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes. It was as if he'd aged five years in a single day. Stepping outside, the early June morning was still crisp and cool. The sky was just beginning to lighten. The residential streets were quiet; the only sound was a newspaper delivery bike somewhere in the distance. Nishikata got on his bicycle and headed for Kasumigaoka High School. The hydrangeas along Sakamichi Hill glistened, wet with morning dew. Blue and purple petals swayed, heavy with moisture. He pedaled up the slope, out of breath, and came to a stop in front of the school gate. It was locked. Of course it was. It was still only 5:30. Nishikata entered through the service entrance, passed through the empty faculty room, and climbed the stairs. Through the hallway window, he could see the distant sea illuminated by the pale morning light. The gray surface of the water swayed gently, as if breathing. His feet stopped in front of the classroom for Class 2-1. He slid the door open. No one was there. The desks were arranged in neat rows, the blackboard wiped clean of yesterday's lessons, spotless. The air was still and cold, carrying a faint scent of chalk. Nishikata sat down at the second row from the window, the third seat from the front. *(This was it.)* Back in his second year of middle school, Takagi-san had sat in the seat next to his. She was always leaving little pranks on his desk. A stamp carved from an eraser. Doodles in the corner of his textbook. Sometimes, a tiny flower. Nishikata placed his hand on the desk. What she had been thinking back then — he understood it now. But back then, he hadn't understood a thing. He'd get teased, get frustrated, and that was the end of it. He couldn't even remember what color her eyes had been. *(I was dense.)* No, that's not it. Nishikata pressed his forehead against the desk. He wasn't dense. He was just scared. Scared that if he told Takagi-san "I like you," something would change. What if she rejected him? What if things got awkward between them? He'd kept running away like that, all this time. The day before she moved away ten years ago. At Uminoterrace Park by the harbor, the two of them had watched the sunset together. Takagi-san had seemed like she wanted to say something. But all Nishikata had said was "Take care." What he'd really wanted to say was something else entirely. Last night was the same. Even though he'd caught up to her at the harbor, he still couldn't say anything. He'd just watched Takagi-san's back grow distant. He felt a cold stone drop into the pit of his stomach. "…Pathetic." He said it out loud. The words spread faintly through the empty classroom. Nishikata didn't lift his head. For these past ten years, he'd always made the excuse, "I'm just dense, so it can't be helped." But last night, he'd finally understood. He wasn't dense. He'd just been scared and kept running away the whole time. Not being able to tell Takagi-san "I like you." Brushing Sanada off in the hallway with "just a classmate." It was all the same. He'd run away from words because he didn't want to get hurt. And this was the result. He'd hurt Takagi-san, he was falling apart himself, and now he was trying to run away again. *(God, I'm the worst.)* Nishikata stayed motionless for a while, his forehead pressed against the desk. How long had he been like that? Suddenly, he heard footsteps from the hallway. Steady, soft footsteps approached. The sound of athletic shoes lightly scuffing the linoleum floor. The sliding door opened quietly. He lifted his head. Houjou was standing there. Her long, flaxen hair glowed golden as the morning light filtered through it. Her deep blue eyes gazed at Nishikata with just a hint of surprise. In her hands, she carried her usual sketchbook and a plastic convenience store bag. "[gentle]…Sensei, good morning." That was all Houjou said. She didn't ask for a reason. Why he was here so early. Without asking anything, she silently sat down in the seat across from Nishikata. She took a canned coffee from the plastic bag and placed it on the desk. "[gentle]If you'd like." "Ah… thank you." When Nishikata thanked her, Houjou gave a small nod. A quiet silence filled the classroom. Houjou turned her gaze out the window. The cherry tree in the schoolyard swayed its leaves in the morning breeze. "[gentle]Sensei." "Huh?" "[gentle]At the harbor yesterday… were you able to say anything?" Houjou's voice was gentle. There was no accusatory tone. Just a manner of speaking that seemed to confirm a fact. Nishikata stared hard at the canned coffee. His fingertips traced the cold surface of the can. "…Nothing. I couldn't say anything." He answered honestly. It wasn't something he could cover up now. Houjou slowly returned her gaze to Nishikata. "[gentle]Just as I expected." She said it with the faintest hint of a smile. It wasn't a smile of blame or exasperation. It was somehow wistful, yet tinged with kindness. Nishikata understood the meaning of that smile, just a little. Houjou had known from the start that he wouldn't be able to say anything. And that was precisely why she had come here now. Houjou opened her sketchbook. She flipped through the pages with a soft rustle, then stopped at a certain page. "[gentle]Your classes, Sensei… I think they're very good." The sudden change of topic threw Nishikata off. "Huh…?" "[gentle]You properly pick up on your students' words, don't you? That sense of timing you have — I think it's a natural gift." Houjou spoke matter-of-factly. "[gentle]And also… that back of yours, standing frozen at the harbor yesterday." Nishikata's shoulders twitched. "[gentle]That was a very honest back. Afraid of hurting someone, but with something you want to convey, and so you become unable to move. I think a person like that is far more sincere than someone who just carelessly blurts out words." Houjou's voice was as quiet as ever. But each and every one of her words slowly seeped deep into Nishikata's heart. "[gentle]Your clumsiness, Sensei, isn't a flaw. If anything…" Houjou paused for a moment. Her blue eyes looked straight at Nishikata. "[gentle]…I think it's very charming." Nishikata forgot to breathe. Houjou continued. "[gentle]I think I like you too, Sensei." It was a quiet, but clear voice. The air in the classroom seemed to stop for an instant. Nishikata couldn't say anything. Just meeting Houjou's gaze took everything he had. Her way of saying it wasn't a definitive "I like you." It was "I think I like you" — phrased like a conclusion she'd arrived at after careful observation. That, in turn, conveyed the seriousness of her feelings all the more. It wasn't a joke or a whim. He understood immediately that these were words Houjou had thought through properly, confirmed within herself, and then spoken aloud. Houjou's blue eyes didn't waver in the slightest. "…Houjou-san." When Nishikata finally managed to force his voice out, Houjou shook her head slightly. "[gentle]I also understand perfectly well that you're in love with Takagi-san, Sensei." The words pierced his chest. "[gentle]So, my story ends here for today." With that, Houjou closed her sketchbook. Her expression was calm. But in that single moment when she averted her gaze out the window, her eyes seemed to be holding something back. Watching her profile, Nishikata finally understood. Houjou hadn't come here to confess her feelings. She had come here to confess, and then to bow out of her own accord. *(She's telling me to go to Takagi-san.)* Two feelings welled up in Nishikata's chest at the same time. Guilt, and the feeling that he still loved Takagi-san. He wanted to respond to Houjou's sincerity, but the path he had to take was already decided. "…Thank you." He forced the words out. Houjou stood up and pointed at the canned coffee. "[gentle]Please drink it while it's warm." Saying just that, Houjou left the classroom. Only the sound of the sliding door closing remained quietly behind. Nishikata wrapped both hands around the canned coffee on the desk. It was warm. That warmth, right now, hurt just a little. *(This time for sure, I won't run.)* Nishikata said it out loud. The words spread faintly through the empty classroom. He still hadn't figured out exactly what he should say to Takagi-san. But running away was over. He took a sip of the canned coffee. It was bitter. But that bitterness was exactly what he needed right now. Nishikata stood up and took a deep breath. Outside the window, the morning sun had risen considerably. He could start to hear the voices of students who had arrived early scattered across the schoolyard. Thirty minutes before homeroom. In the hallway heading to the faculty room, Nishikata ran right into Takagi-san. The moment he turned the corner, Takagi-san was standing right there. In her hands, a file of lesson plans. Her black hair was tied back in its usual single ponytail, but the area under her eyes was a little red and swollen. She averted her gaze, as if to hide the traces of a night spent crying. "[cold]…Good morning." Her voice was businesslike. A voice that had locked all emotion deep inside. Saying just that, Takagi-san tried to quickly walk past. "Takagi-san." Calling out to stop her was almost a reflex. Takagi-san paused for just a moment and, without turning around, said: "[cold]Do you need something?" Nishikata searched for words. He still hadn't sorted things out. Yesterday's events, this morning's events — everything was still a jumbled mess. "Um… after school today, do you have time?" Takagi-san didn't turn around. "[cold]What for?" "…I want you to come to the rooftop." Nishikata's voice was direct. He wasn't running away. Hearing that voice, Takagi-san slowly turned around. Her eyes looked straight at Nishikata's face. Looking into Nishikata's eyes, Takagi-san seemed to sense something. He was different from yesterday. Those eyes that had always been downcast were now looking at her without running away. For some reason, her chest ached. "[gentle]…Alright." Saying just that, Takagi-san walked away for good this time. Nishikata stood frozen, watching her back until it disappeared down the hallway. *(This time for sure.)* He said it once more in his heart. He still hadn't found the words. But he wouldn't run. That, at least, he had decided. Morning light streamed through the hallway window. The distant sea shone quietly again today.