A dream that ends in light. A friend who always walks ahead. And a message that changes everything.
Ichinose Taichi has had the same dream three times now—Touma turning back to smile at him on the road to school, then a blinding flash, then nothing. He tells himself it's just a dream. But when a message from his quiet classmate Kuze Futaba arrives out of nowhere, asking to talk, Taichi feels it: something is about to change.
In a fading seaside town where the shipyard closed and the young peop
Blue Flag: To Change the Lost Future - Isolation—an unbelievable night, tears freeze on Hell Slope
Morning light crept slowly over the still-sleeping city.
North side of Aohama City. A residential district spreading across the foothills of Mt. Tōmi.
Ichinose Taichi stood leaning against the wall in front of Mita Touma's house.
(Today, too, I'll protect Touma.)
Day four of the second term.
Taichi already knew what time Touma left the house.
On mornings with practice, it was 7:10.
On mornings without, 7:40.
Today was a morning practice day for the baseball club.
Taichi had been standing here since 6:50.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and gripped his phone.
No real reason.
Just to check the time.
7:05.
7:06.
7:07.
Taichi's heart beat a little faster.
(Is Touma not out yet?)
7:08.
The sound of the front door opening.
"...Wait, Taichi!? What the hell are you doing here?"
Touma stared at Taichi, startled.
Baseball uniform. Sports bag on his shoulder.
The usual wristband on his left wrist.
"Nothing. Just happened to be passing by."
Taichi said it as casually as he could.
But his voice came out a little too quiet.
"Passing by? Your house is that way, man."
Touma laughed and pointed in the opposite direction.
Taichi's house was two doors down from Touma's.
Same route to school, same direction.
But Taichi was standing right in front of Touma's door.
"...I was taking a walk."
"A walk? In the morning? That's not like you."
Touma clapped Taichi on the shoulder.
"Whatever. Since you're here, let's go together."
Touma started walking.
Taichi followed half a step behind.
Taichi took the road side.
As if to shield Touma from the cars.
(Touma dies in an accident.)
(Run over by a car.)
The dream from last night surged back into Taichi's mind.
Blinding light.
Touma's face, turning back.
And the headlights of a car.
"Taichi, have you been walking on the road side a lot lately?"
Touma said it without turning around.
"...Have I?"
"Yeah. I've been noticing for a while."
Taichi couldn't say anything.
Hell Slope.
The steep hill leading to Aohama High, max gradient twelve percent.
Morning light painted the asphalt white.
The two climbed the slope in silence.
"Hey, Taichi."
Touma suddenly stopped.
"...What?"
"What's going on with you lately? Something's off."
Touma looked at Taichi with a serious face.
His eyes weren't smiling.
"Nothing's off."
"It is. Every morning you're in front of my house. After school you're waiting at the gate. At lunch you're peeking into my classroom."
Taichi's heart lurched.
(He noticed.)
"...It's just coincidence."
"Coincidence, every single day, right past my classroom?"
Touma's voice grew a little harder.
"...It doesn't mean anything."
Taichi looked away.
His right hand touched the back of his neck.
(I can't tell him.)
(That he's going to die in an accident.)
(There's no way he'd believe that.)
"...I see. Whatever, then."
Touma's face fell a little, and he started walking again.
Taichi followed silently behind.
(Doubt is thickening in Touma's eyes.)
Taichi could feel it.
He was drifting away from Touma.
The harder he tried to protect him, the wider the distance grew.
(But that's fine.)
(As long as Touma stays alive.)
Taichi clenched his fist.
He entered the classroom.
Sat at his desk.
The stares around him stung.
"...Look. It's Ichinose."
"I heard he was peeking into Mita's classroom again."
"Seriously? Gross."
Whispers, deliberately loud enough to hear.
Taichi opened his textbook and hid his face.
(It's become a rumor.)
(That Ichinose is obsessed with Touma.)
(That he's like a stalker.)
Taichi had seen it on his phone yesterday.
A group chat on social media.
A photo of Taichi standing frozen in front of Touma's classroom.
Spread around for laughs.
"That guy's been close with Touma for a while, right?"
"They're childhood friends, apparently. But lately he's been crazy."
"Touma's probably creeped out, huh?"
Taichi wanted to cover his ears.
But he couldn't.
The voices poured into his ears without mercy.
Lunch break.
Taichi ate alone.
At his own desk in the classroom.
Around him, people ate happily in groups.
Only Taichi was alone.
(We used to eat together all the time.)
(On the roof.)
(Not anymore.)
Taichi set down his chopsticks.
No appetite.
He closed his lunchbox and put it in his bag.
Looked out the window.
On the field, the baseball club was doing voluntary practice during lunch.
He could see Touma.
Giving instructions to the team as captain.
That figure was dazzling.
(Touma really is amazing.)
(Nothing like me.)
Taichi slumped onto his desk.
After school.
Taichi stood in front of the school gate.
Waiting for baseball practice to end.
(I won't let Touma walk home alone.)
(I'll protect him from the danger of cars.)
Taichi checked his phone.
A message from Futaba.
"Could you come to the greenhouse after school today? There's something I want to talk about."
Taichi stared at the message.
(What does Futaba want with me?)
(Is it about Touma?)
(Or something else?)
He typed a reply.
"Got it. But I'm walking Touma home first, so I'll come after."
Send.
Taichi leaned against the gatepost and waited.
Thirty minutes later.
Baseball practice ended.
The players came out of the field.
Touma was among them.
"Taichi, you were waiting again?"
Touma looked at Taichi, exasperated.
"...Not really. Just passing by."
"Passing by again. You pass by every single day."
There was a slight edge in Touma's voice.
"...Let's go home."
Taichi started walking.
Touma sighed and followed.
The two descended Hell Slope in silence.
Road side: Taichi.
Sidewalk side: Touma.
"Hey, Taichi."
Touma spoke up.
"...What?"
"You're hiding something from me, aren't you."
Taichi's feet stopped.
"...No, I'm not."
"Liar. You always touch the back of your neck when you lie."
Taichi realized his right hand was at the back of his neck.
(Shit.)
"...I'm not touching it."
He lowered his hand.
"...Hey, Taichi. Did I do something wrong to you?"
Touma's voice was trembling.
"...You didn't. You didn't do anything wrong, Touma."
"Then why are you avoiding me so much? No — avoiding's not right. It's the opposite. You're clinging to me. You've been weird lately."
Touma grabbed Taichi by both shoulders.
"I think of you as my best friend. So tell me. What happened?"
Taichi couldn't look at Touma's face.
(I want to tell him.)
(If I could, how much easier would it be.)
(But if I do, then what?)
(That he'll die in an accident.)
(That kind of dream talk.)
(Who would believe it?)
(Would Touma laugh?)
(Or would he worry?)
(Either way, he'd think I've lost it.)
"...There's nothing. Really."
Taichi gently removed Touma's hands.
"...I see."
Touma smiled weakly.
"I'll go on ahead, then."
Taichi turned his back on Touma.
"Taichi."
Touma's voice stabbed into his back.
"I believe in you, you know."
Taichi didn't turn around.
He started running.
(He believes in me.)
(Touma believes in me.)
(And yet I can't believe in Touma.)
(I can't tell him about the precognitive dream.)
Tears spilled from Taichi's eyes.
But he kept running.
The wind blew the tears away.
The greenhouse behind the school building.
Evening light dyed the glass orange.
Taichi caught his breath, then opened the door.
A thick smell of soil and grass.
Inside the greenhouse were Futaba and Masumi.
"Ah... Taichi."
Futaba turned around.
Loose chestnut braid.
Big, light-brown eyes.
A small bandage on her palm.
"Thank you for coming."
Futaba smiled.
But the smile was somehow lonely.
Masumi stood against the wall, arms crossed.
Her narrow black eyes fixed on Taichi.
"...What did you want to talk about?"
Taichi spoke, trying to stay calm.
"Um... I'm glad things seem to be going well with Touma lately."
Futaba said it while fidgeting with her fingers.
"...I see. That's good."
Taichi said what he didn't mean.
(Futaba and Touma getting along.)
(That serves my purpose.)
(But I can't honestly be happy about it.)
"But... I wonder if I'm just being used by you, Taichi."
Futaba said it looking down.
Her voice was shaking.
Taichi's heart jumped.
"...What?"
"I mean... you're always watching Touma. I wonder if I don't matter to you at all."
Tears welled in Futaba's eyes.
"Wait a minute. That's not true."
Taichi's voice rose.
"But you won't tell me the truth, will you? You're hiding something, Taichi. I can tell."
Futaba's tears ran down her cheeks.
"What are you making Futaba say?"
Masumi glared at Taichi.
A quiet voice.
But the tone was sharp.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Futaba isn't your tool. You use her for all she's worth, and once you get close to Touma, you'll throw her away. That's the plan, isn't it?"
"No! That's not it!"
Taichi shouted.
"Then why won't you tell us? What you're thinking, Taichi. I want to believe in you."
Futaba looked at Taichi through her tears.
(She wants to believe.)
(Futaba is telling me she wants to believe in me too.)
(And yet I can't tell her about the precognitive dream.)
(If I did, what would Futaba think?)
(She'd think I'm crazy.)
(Or would she worry about me?)
(But Masumi—)
(Masumi would never believe it.)
"...Sorry. I can't say it right now."
Taichi forced the words out.
"...I'm sorry. It's my fault. For pushing you to tell me. I'm sorry."
Futaba ran out of the greenhouse, crying.
"You're the worst."
Masumi shot Taichi a glance.
Cold eyes.
"Do you have any idea how much Futaba cares about you? You don't understand anything."
That was all she said before chasing after Futaba.
Taichi was left alone in the greenhouse.
The setting sun reflected off the glass and stung his eyes.
(The worst.)
(I'm the worst.)
(I hurt Futaba.)
(Masumi hates me.)
(Touma doubts me.)
(It's all my fault.)
Taichi crouched down on the spot.
He almost cried.
But he didn't.
(I don't deserve to cry.)
Taichi stood up.
He left the greenhouse.
Night.
Taichi lay on his back on his bed in his room.
Staring at the ceiling.
His phone buzzed.
He reached out and picked it up.
A message from Touma.
"Come to the bottom of Hell Slope. Now. We need to talk."
Short. One line.
Taichi sat up.
(Touma called me out.)
(He wants to talk.)
(About what?)
(About Futaba?)
(Or about what I've been doing?)
A bad feeling spread through Taichi's chest.
But he had to go.
He threw on a jacket and left the house.
Hell Slope.
At night, the streetlights lined the slope at even intervals.
Their light dimly lit the asphalt.
Taichi descended the hill.
His heart was pounding.
(What is Touma going to say?)
(That I'm hiding something from him.)
(Is he going to say it again?)
At the bottom of the slope.
Under a streetlight, Touma stood.
Arms crossed, waiting for Taichi.
"You came."
Touma's voice was low and serious.
"...What did you want to talk about?"
Taichi stopped three meters short of Touma.
"You're hiding something from me, aren't you."
Touma cut straight to it.
Taichi's heart tightened.
"...No, I'm not."
"Don't lie. You follow me every day. You stare at me. I heard Futaba was crying because of you, too."
Touma's voice grew stronger.
"...Futaba?"
"Masumi contacted me. Said you made Futaba cry. What happened?"
Touma took a step closer.
"...Nothing. Futaba just misunderstood on her own."
"Misunderstood? Would Futaba cry like that over a misunderstanding?"
For the first time, Touma directed real anger at Taichi.
"...There's nothing I can do about it."
"Nothing you can do? What the hell does that mean? You were using Futaba to get close to me, weren't you?"
Taichi's heart nearly stopped.
(Touma knows.)
(That I was using Futaba.)
"...No. That's not it."
"Then why is Futaba crying like that? What did you do to her?"
Touma grabbed Taichi by the collar.
"I believed in you. And you won't tell me anything. You hurt Futaba. What are you even trying to do?"
Tears welled in Touma's eyes.
(Touma is crying.)
(Because of me.)
(I made To
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