Burg Terrace's box seats filled with students after school. Located in the middle of the arcade shopping street—right at the center of the street stretching south from Minatoura Station—the hamburger shop's second floor felt just far enough from the noise below. Kasumi placed a stack of printouts on the edge of the tray. The athletic festival was tomorrow. The class had been hectic with preparations, but Satoshi hadn't looked at a single test prep sheet. As class representative, that bothered her. That's why she'd called him here. That was all. There was no other reason. None at all. "You came." Satoshi climbed the stairs to the second floor. His black messy hair was slightly disheveled, and the first button of his uniform shirt was undone again. Kasumi noticed it every time. "[excited]Kasumi! Burg Terrace has a second floor!? I didn't know!" "[sarcastic]You've been here five times already. How do you manage to stay this clueless?" "[excited]Huh? Five times?" Just then, as Satoshi reached the top of the stairs, the shop manager Gan-chan poked his head out. Forty-five, flat-top haircut, big smile—he let out an "Ah!" the moment he saw them. "[excited]The usual two! Cheeseburger set for two again today?" Kasumi's movements stopped dead. "[angry]U-usual? How many times do you think we've come here!?" "Huh? Five times now? Tuesday and Thursday, and last week—" Kasumi cut him off mid-count, her hand stopping his. Heat rose to her face. All the way to her ears. "[serious]Two cheeseburger sets." "You got it!" Gan-chan left with a spring in his step. Kasumi looked straight ahead. Satoshi was grinning. "[excited]Gan-chan remembered us! We're like a team!" "We're not a team." "Huh? Why not? A shop manager who remembers our names—isn't that amazing? Better service than the Pokémon Center reception desk." Kasumi shoved the printouts in front of Satoshi. She had to change the subject. Right now. "[serious]Anyway. After the athletic festival comes the midterm. You haven't looked at a single sheet in two weeks." "I have." "Where?" "…The cover." "[angry]Just the cover!?" Satoshi reached for the menu. He glanced at it and said "Ah." "[excited]These french fries look like Dugtrio." Kasumi snatched the menu away. "[angry]Look at the printout! The printout!" She slammed the table. The high school couple at the next table flinched. Kasumi whispered "Sorry" before glaring at Satoshi. Satoshi picked up the printout and actually looked at it. For about two seconds. "[gentle]…Math is hard." "Start there." By the time the fries arrived, Kasumi had worked through the very first problem with him. Satoshi asked "Why does x show up here?" three times. Kasumi explained three times. When he was about to ask a fourth time, the fries came and he got distracted. As they left the shop, Gan-chan poked his head out from the kitchen and waved. "[gentle]Come back soon, you two!" "[angry]Not 'you two'! I keep telling you!" She walked out quickly. Satoshi followed right behind. Under the arcade's awning, the evening's orange light was streaming in. (You two. So we're "you two," huh.) Kasumi kept her eyes forward. Why did those words stick with her like this? She didn't know. She really didn't know. --- The next day, the athletic festival began. Clear autumn sky, not a cloud in sight. White lines marked the field, and each class's tent was set up in rows. In front of Class 2-3's tent, the boys had surrounded Satoshi. "Only Satoshi can do it! You're the anchor, man!" "[excited]Relay? The thing where you pass the baton and run?" "Yeah! Please!" "[excited]I'll do it! It's kinda like Pokémon racing!" Kasumi stood at the edge of the tent with her arms crossed. She wondered what "Pokémon racing" even was, but her chest bounced a little at the fact that Satoshi had been chosen. It was nothing. Just her imagination. The relay was the first event after lunch. When the third runner passed the baton to Satoshi, Class 2-3 was in third place. Satoshi took the baton and stepped forward. The next instant, a voice rose from the stands. "Huh—he's fast!?" His acceleration wasn't normal. From the first step, it was different. The reaction speed and explosive power he'd built up in Pokémon battles was flowing straight into his legs. The gap with second place closed, he overtook them, and the gap with first place began to shrink. "[laughing]This is fun!! It's like Pokémon racing, it's so fun!!" He shouted across the entire field. While running. Class 2-3's tent erupted. "He's too fast!?" "What is that!?" "Satoshi! Go, go, go!!" Kasumi gripped the edge of the tent with both hands. (Go.) She whispered it only in her heart. Speaking it aloud would be embarrassing. But she couldn't look away. From Satoshi running. His black messy hair caught the wind, his white uniform shirt gleamed against the blue sky, his profile looking straight ahead— The finish line tape snapped. Cheers erupted. Class 2-3 went wild. Kasumi realized she was already walking toward the track. Her feet had moved on their own. She reached Satoshi, whose knees were heaving— "[excited]You did it!" As she said it, she grabbed both his hands. Both of them stopped at the same time. Satoshi's hand was warm. From running, it was so warm. Kasumi's face flushed instantly. All the way to her ears. "[cold]I-I'm not happy about it or anything!!" She pulled her hand away and turned her back. She walked quickly back to the tent. Behind her, she heard Satoshi's confused voice: "…Why'd you get mad?" Kasumi returned to the tent and pretended someone was talking to her. But. She quietly clenched her right hand against her chest. It was still warm. --- That evening, the class invited him to an after-party, but Satoshi said he wanted to walk alone. He wandered through Minatoura shopping street by himself. The excitement from earlier still lingered in his body, but his feet moved slowly. The arcade was bathed in sunset, the stone pavement stained orange. When he reached the southern end of the shopping street, his feet stopped in front of an unusual shop. Used bookstore "Tsukiyomi-dō"—the sign was written in ink. Books were stacked on a display table outside. Looking at the cover of one, Satoshi said "Ah." It was a photo of a snake. A large, enlarged image of a green snake. (It looks like Arbok.) His hand reached out. Before he knew it, he was inside the shop. Tsukiyomi-dō was dim inside, smelling of books. Old paper, wooden shelves, dust—a unique blend. Shelves stretched to the ceiling, and the aisles were narrow. A small light glowed in the back. Satoshi sat down between the shelves and opened the book with the cover—"World Encyclopedia of Living Things." The snake page. Next page, lizards. Next, frogs. Next, beetles. With each page Satoshi turned, he checked each creature. They were similar. Similar, but different. The creatures here didn't have that distinct "type" that Pokémon did. But they were all real. They were truly alive. "…You planning to sit here till closing?" A quiet voice. Looking up, there was an old man. Tsukiyomi Genzō—seventy-eight years old, white beard, a deeply lined face. But his eyes were sharp. The shop owner, probably. "[surprised]Oh, sorry! I just—" "It's fine." The old man said only that and sat down in a chair behind the counter. He wasn't angry. Didn't seem like he was going to kick him out. Satoshi turned his eyes back to the encyclopedia. The beetle page. It looked like Kabutops. But unlike Kabutops, it couldn't talk. Just an insect. But a real, living insect. "[serious]All the creatures here look like Pokémon. But they're a little different." It was meant to be a murmur, but the old man heard it. "Pokémon, huh. Don't know 'em." "[serious]…They're creatures from my world. Each one had their own personality, and I traveled with them." The old man said quietly: "You really love living things, don't you." Satoshi stopped his hands. "[gentle]…Ever since I came here, I've been lonely. Because they're all gone." It was the first time he'd said those words aloud. The first time he'd told anyone. The old man wasn't surprised at all. He just said "I see" and went to the back, returning a moment later with a cup of tea. Steam rose thinly from it. "Drink." Satoshi took it. It was warm. The two of them sat in silence for a while. The old man organized books while Satoshi looked at the encyclopedia. That was all. But it wasn't an awkward silence. Satoshi closed the encyclopedia and turned to the old man. "[gentle]How much is this book?" "A hundred yen." "[surprised]Really? That's okay?" "Better for you to read it than for it to sleep on the shelf." Satoshi pulled a hundred yen from his pocket. The old man took it. That was all. On the way home, Satoshi held the encyclopedia to his chest with both hands. As he left the arcade, the sky began to darken. One star appeared. He was lonely. But today felt a little lighter. Maybe because he'd said it out loud. --- The next morning, Kasumi came up from the pool after early practice. After swimming multiple lengths of the twenty-five-meter pool, her body was properly exhausted every time. As she dried her hair with a towel and headed out of the changing room, two junior members of the swim team were waiting for her. "Senpai, can we talk for a sec?" "What." "Haven't you been getting really close to that transfer student lately? Burg Terrace, the athletic festival…" They were grinning. Kasumi didn't look away. "[serious]I'm just looking after him as class representative. It's part of the buddy system." "But senpai, the buddy period already ended, didn't it?" Kasumi opened her mouth, then closed it. It had ended. That was true. The week after his transfer had ended yesterday. "T-that's just… lingering sense of duty or something…" "And yesterday—you held hands on the field, didn't you?" "[angry]We didn't hold hands!! I just touched him for a second! That's totally different!!" Her voice cracked. The two juniors burst out laughing. They were trying to hold it in while saying "Yeah, yeah, that's right." Kasumi turned on her heel. "I'm leaving." Laughter chased her down the hallway. (Class representative duties. Nothing else.) She told herself this as she walked. After school, she sat alone in the library's study area. Making summary notes for the next midterm—that was today's goal. She ran her mechanical pencil across the page, made a math section, made a Japanese section—and then realized she'd picked up another notebook. She'd written "Math Basics" on it. It was a notebook for Satoshi. Her hands stopped. The pencil stopped. Sunset streamed through the window. No one else was in the library. Only the sound of Librarian Miyano turning pages in the distance. "[whispers]…It's just class representative work anyway." She whispered to herself in an empty room. But her face was hot. She closed the notebook. Opened it. Closed it again. In the end, she opened it—and wrote one page of summary notes for Satoshi. Carefully, clearly. So he wouldn't have to ask "Why does x show up?" again. When she finished, Kasumi looked at the notebook. She still didn't have an answer for why she was doing this. But her hands wouldn't stop. That was the only thing she was certain of right now. Outside the window, the sunset sank toward the Akitsu River. Satoshi was probably swinging a stick around the riverbed by now. Kasumi quietly closed the notebook and put it in her bag.