Ever since that night, something had been caught in the depths of my chest. If I had to describe it, it was like having a pebble lodged inside a shoe. I could still walk. But it was definitely there. And I had no idea how to remove it. That image I saw at Le Double——standing on stage, spinning words without hesitation, another version of myself——kept surfacing in Shun's mind again and again. During class, while eating dinner, before bed. It wouldn't disappear. But I didn't exactly want it to, either. I wasn't sure how to put it into words. Then came a morning like any other. When I entered the classroom, thin April sunlight streamed through the windows. The air still held a slight chill, carrying the scent of a spring classroom. The smell of chalk, rubber-soled indoor shoes, and the sweet aroma of canned coffee someone had brought mingled together in the air. Shun took his seat and opened his desk drawer. A single sheet of paper lay at the very front. A career path survey form. At the top of the sheet: the name of Hozumi-ga-oka High School, grade, class, and name fields. Below that, printed in neat rows: "First Choice," "Second Choice," and "Future Outlook (Free Response)." It was blank. Yesterday and the day before, I'd opened it, looked at it, and put it back in the drawer. Today was no different. Every time I tried to write something, my pencil tip would stop. It wasn't that I couldn't write anything. For instance, I could write "interested in higher education" and it wouldn't be a lie. I could write "humanities track" and it wouldn't be wrong. But those were just words to fill the blanks, not words that said anything about who I was. (It's not a matter of how to write it. It's a matter of what to write.) Telling myself this, Shun pushed the paper back into the depths of the drawer. That was when. "Hey Shun, how are you writing your motivation statement?" A bright voice came from above. I turned around. Akari from the seat next to mine had her survey form spread out on her desk, and she was looking toward me. Her pale chestnut-colored medium-length hair caught the morning light just slightly, and her emerald-green eyes were directed at me. I thought she was smiling, but looking closer, while the corners of her mouth were properly turned up, something else was floating in the depths of her eyes. Shun caught that shift reflexively. Akari had excellent grades and plenty of friends. She shouldn't lack for people to consult about her future. So why was she asking him? (That's strange.) Even thinking this, Shun answered honestly. "It's less about how to write it... and more about what to write, isn't it?" Akari made a confused face. "The format is determined by the form itself, right? If you don't know what to write for your first choice, you can't write anything." "...I see." For a moment, Akari fell silent. Just for that moment, the brightness she'd been wearing peeled away. She didn't look forward, nor did she look at Shun—her eyes fixed on a single point in empty space. Like she was searching for something, but didn't expect to find it. That single second sank quietly into Shun's chest. Akari quickly restored her expression and laughed. "You're right!" Dimples appeared on both cheeks—a bright, cheerful laugh. "Seriously, there's so much to write I feel like my head's going to explode. You really do think seriously about things, don't you, Shun?" "No, that's not really..." "Don't be modest. Oh, but what if the person asking is someone who's already decided what to write?" "I haven't decided." "Then we're blank-page buddies!" Akari laughed cheerfully. But that laugh was still slightly faster in tempo. The breath that came after she finished laughing was just a little deeper than usual. "...Blank-page buddies." When Shun repeated her words back to her, Akari let out a small laugh. "Something about the way you repeat things with such a serious face is actually funny." "No, I'm not trying to be funny or anything." "That's what makes it funny!" As Akari continued laughing, Shun didn't know how to respond and stayed silent. But it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. Their exchange didn't really mesh, yet somehow it kept a rhythm. Shun thought it was strange. The chime announcing homeroom rang, and both of them faced forward. --- After school. Stepping out of the entrance to Hozumi-ga-oka High School, spring's evening spread out beyond the hill. With his eyes on the flow of students heading toward the station, Shun began walking south alone. His destination was Kuresomu Alley. Le Double——the Cafe Beyond Time and Space hidden at the end of Hozumi-ga-oka's old town——crossed his mind again. Last night, he'd taken out the coaster from his uniform pocket and stared at it for a while. A small circular piece of paper with a copper-colored crest engraved on it. He had no memory of Lizette handing it to him, yet it was definitely there. Maybe he could go again. He hadn't exactly thought that, but his feet naturally remembered the way. About twelve minutes' walk from the south exit of the station, the scenery began to change. The line of brand-new commercial facilities broke off, giving way to a dense area of wooden buildings saturated with the air of the Showa era. Stepping into the alley——Kuresomu Alley——barely two meters wide, the quality of the air shifted subtly. The humidity was slightly higher, and the scent of potted plants and old wood mingled together. Beyond the latticed window of the antique shop "Kaitoudou," the proprietor Tsumura Kozo was appraising something. He held an object up to the light, his brow furrowed. From the Japanese sweets shop "Yuzuki," the sweet, steamed aroma of chestnuts drifted through the air. The used bookstore "Ketsurou" remained silently closed as always. Through the glass, Miyauchi Kiriko, the proprietor, could be seen turning pages in the back. This alley had a slightly different flow of time. He'd felt it when he came yesterday. Maybe it had always been that way, even before. He walked toward the dead end. There was a wooden wall. The copper plate sign was gone. Where it should have been yesterday, there was only an old, weathered wooden wall stretching out. Shun stopped. He looked away, then looked at the same spot again. It hadn't changed. He looked once more. Still just a wall. He reached out and touched it with his fingertips. The dry feel of wood. His finger caught on a crack. There was no door anywhere. (Maybe it's not the right time to come.) He tried to convince himself of this. But he couldn't tell if that was genuine acceptance or just resignation. He took the coaster from his pocket and gazed at the crest. It was still too early for streetlights, and the crest looked like nothing more than an engraving. The amber glow was nowhere to be seen. Shun sighed and began retracing his steps. Then, near the entrance to the alley, he nearly collided with someone. "Whoa!" The voice came first. Then he saw the face with dimples. Akari's eyes were wide open, looking at Shun. She had her school bag in hand. Still in her uniform, she seemed to be heading somewhere. "Shun? What are you doing here?" "...That's what I should be asking." The two of them looked at each other for a while. Neither asked why. It was the same for both of them—asking would mean having to explain themselves. What was stranger was how naturally this odd coincidence was accepted without surprise. "...Heading home?" "I suppose so." "Want to walk to the station together?" The two naturally began walking in the same direction. Akari talked a lot. About today's math quiz, about how Nishina-sensei——the forty-something female teacher in charge of career guidance——had told the class during after-school homeroom to "think about it early," about how the steamed buns at the school store were apparently ending their season today. Topics came one after another. Shun listened while offering short responses and nods. "...Do you like quiet places?" The words came out before he realized it. Akari turned to look at him. "Huh?" "I mean..." "When I was a kid, my house wasn't very lively, so I've always liked quiet places like this alley. Just... for some reason." Even he was surprised. He'd never told any of his classmates something like this. Why now? Why this? Akari was quiet for a while. She didn't press further. She didn't say "is that so?" or "really?" Just a pause, and then quietly: "That's nice." "...That's nice?" "Having a place you really like, and knowing it." The way she said it loosened something deep inside Shun's chest. Not accusatory, not envious——just "nice." Something in his chest came slightly undone. He couldn't quite put it into words, but it was like one of the taut strings inside him had suddenly gone slack. Shun carried that sensation with him for a while, unsure what to do with it. --- At that moment, the two of them were walking near the entrance to Kuresomu Alley. Akari suddenly stopped. "That alley from before... I'm curious about it." "...Should we go back?" He didn't know why he'd said that. But Akari was already walking. The two entered Kuresomu Alley side by side. The slanting light of dusk cut the alley diagonally. The light caught the latticed window of the antique shop, dyeing it orange. The sweets shop had already closed its doors, but the sweetness of chestnuts still lingered in the air. And when they reached the dead end. The copper plate sign was there. In the slanting light of dusk, the hand-carved letters floated into view. Cafe Beyond Time and Space = Le Double =. Shun stopped. When he'd come alone, there had been only a wall. Yet now there was a door. An old wooden door with a tarnished brass doorknob. (When I was alone, it wasn't here.) He looked at Akari. Akari was also looking up at the sign. She could see it. She definitely could see it. "What is this...?" Akari's voice had become small. The light, cheerful tone from before had faded, leaving only her natural voice. "It's a cafe, I think." "You know about it?" "I came here once before." Akari looked at Shun. A slightly surprised expression. But she didn't seem frightened. "Is it okay to go in?" "...Apparently the door only appears in front of people who need it." "That's a scary cafe." That single comment loosened the slightly taut air. Shun gave a wry smile and reached for the door. Karan-kara. The sound of the door chime. The interior was far larger than the exterior suggested. Lantern-style indirect lighting filled the space with warm orange light. Eight counter seats, four tables. Seven clocks hung on the walls, each moving at a different speed. One slow, one fast, one at a standard pace. No background music. Only the sound of a coffee mill and the ticking of clock hands. "Wow," Akari let out a small voice. Behind the counter, Lizette looked at the two of them. Her flax-colored hair was loosely gathered, white blouse with an apron. Her jade-green eyes quietly welcomed them in. Her expression was calm, unsurprised. As if she'd known all along that this would happen. "Welcome." "Do we need a reservation or something?" "Those who need to come will come." "...This is a scary cafe." She said it in a small voice, but Lizette must have heard. Yet Lizette only raised the corners of her mouth slightly. Not angry, not denying——just a smile that existed there. When the two sat down at the counter side by side, Lizette began preparing coffee. The sound of beans being ground. The sound of hot water being poured. Careful, ritualistic movements. Soon, two white porcelain cups were placed before them. On the surface of each, a faint amber light flickered. Temporal layer liquid——a nearly colorless liquid in which the energy generated at the branching points of human lives, the energy of the paths "not chosen," was concentrated——dissolved in coffee. Last time, Lizette had