The memory of Friday night still clung to his body. The sensation of Hinata's fist striking his chest. A cry choked into silence. The weight of the iron door as he left the rooftop, saying only sorry. Since that night, with the weekend in between, Takemichi had not contacted Hinata once. He couldn't. Every time he opened his smartphone, Hinata's chat window filled his vision, and he would close it without typing anything. He knew he should apologize. But he didn't know how. Even if he apologized, he didn't believe anything would change. Monday morning, Takemichi sat in the last row by the window, gazing outside. The May sky was pale blue. The JR Kaminarai Line overpass lay distant. The young leaves of the cherry trees swayed softly in the breeze. The classroom was filled with the bustle before homeroom. Someone was laughing. Someone threw their bag onto their desk. Each sound reached Takemichi's ears and dissolved like sand. The seat next to him remained empty, as always. Murase-sensei took the podium. Before homeroom began, she clapped her hands—unusually—to draw attention. "[serious]We have a transfer student joining us today. In Class 2-3" The classroom stirred. "Who?" "From where?" "Boy or girl?"—voices overlapped. Takemichi kept his gaze on the window, listening to the murmur of the room. The door opened. The first thing that caught his eye was silver hair. Bound in a single ponytail at the back, lustrous and pale as moonlight. The moment she stepped to the podium, the classroom quieted just slightly. A thin frame, perhaps 165 centimeters tall. Multiple small silver rings pierced her left ear. Golden eyes swept across the entire classroom, then—as if catching on nothing—fixed on a single point on the floor. There was no warmth in those eyes. "[cold]I'm Aoki Yuu" That was all. The classroom stirred again. "That's it?" "Way too short for an introduction" "Just her name?"—even hearing such voices, Yuu did not lift her face. Murase-sensei gestured to a seat. "[serious]You'll sit next to Hanagaki" Yuu walked forward. To Takemichi's left—the seat that had been empty all this time. The scrape of a chair being pulled. The soft thud of a bag placed on a desk. Takemichi kept his gaze on the window, feeling the presence of another person arriving at his side. A seat that had existed like part of the air for so long now held someone with body heat. That fact touched his skin like something foreign. Yuu placed her things down, then glanced once at Takemichi's profile. He didn't notice. ───── Lunch break. People filtered out of the classroom. Boys carrying Yamakita bento bags headed into the hallway. Groups of friends called out toward the cafeteria. A girl asked, "Yuu, aren't you coming?" but Yuu shook her head. No one invited her again. The classroom grew quiet. Only Takemichi and Yuu remained. Takemichi hadn't opened his bento. His elbow rested on his desk as he looked out the window. The young cherry leaves in the schoolyard. The rooftops of the residential district beyond. He was trying not to think about anything, yet thinking about something all the same—that kind of time. His right thumb moved slowly. It traced the inside of his left wrist. His sleeve shifted slightly, revealing an old burn scar. The rough texture of scarred skin. Takemichi traced it without conscious thought. It was something he did every day. By the time he noticed, his fingers were already moving. At the diagonal desk in front, Yuu had opened her textbook. She turned pages, but her eyes didn't follow the words. From the corner of her vision, she caught Takemichi's left wrist. The continuous motion of his fingers. The slight forward tilt of his shoulders. The shallowness of his breathing. One by one, Yuu quietly gathered these details. The moment Takemichi pulled his left wrist back into his sleeve, Yuu returned her gaze to the textbook. She said nothing. Her expression didn't change. Only her page-turning fingers paused, just for an instant. ───── After school. After letting his classmates pass through the hallway, Takemichi stood. He left the classroom without his bag. He climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. As he ascended, sound diminished. Footsteps. Voices. The lingering echo of the chime. All of it seemed to be left behind below, fading away. He reached the rooftop's iron door. He touched the broken lock. It had become a habit to check it every day. That it was broken here, that he could enter, that this place alone was his refuge—he confirmed these things with his fingertips. He pushed the door open with his shoulder. The moment it opened, he sensed someone behind him. He turned. Silver hair caught the light of late afternoon. It was Yuu. She stood quietly, less than a meter away from him. "[cold]The lock's broken, huh" Takemichi said nothing. He searched for words to turn her away, but found none. He couldn't even ask why she was here. Without waiting for his response, Yuu passed through the iron door onto the rooftop. Takemichi followed behind her—or rather, remained there, unable to turn her away. The air on the rooftop was different from the classroom. The view opened up. More sky. The JR Kaminarai Line overpass was visible to the north. The rooftops of the residential district spread out below. The sky before evening hadn't yet turned orange. The two of them stood together near the fence on the north side. Silence continued. Yuu didn't speak. Takemichi didn't speak either. Wind blew, and Yuu's bound silver hair swayed. Takemichi stood slightly apart from the iron railing, looking toward the overpass. He had no energy to wonder why she was here, why he couldn't turn her away. There was only silence. And then—the 6 p.m. train came. A roar tore across the overpass. Takemichi's back went rigid. His body moved before consciousness caught up. His left hand gripped the iron railing. The sound of breaking bones echoed back. Someone's scream overlapped it. Which timeline's memory was this, which night's scene—he couldn't tell. Multiple images flashed behind his eyelids, then vanished. The train sound receded. Three seconds, or five. Takemichi's fingers remained white, clenched around the railing. Yuu watched his reaction head-on. After the train sound completely faded, silence lingered for a while. Then Yuu slowly opened her mouth. "[whispers]You're still fighting somewhere, aren't you" Something drained from Takemichi's entire body. As strength left him, a sensation like turning to stone ran through him simultaneously. Two contradictory sensations overlapped within him. No one had seen through it. For months—not Hinata, not Murase-sensei, not anyone—had chosen these words. A transfer student, met only hours ago, without any weapon, simply by watching—had stripped it bare. Heat came to Takemichi's eyes. It stopped before spilling over. He couldn't speak. He had no strength to deny. No words came to affirm. Takemichi simply held the iron railing, facing forward. Yuu didn't press further. The two of them stood side by side, silently watching the sunset deepen. The sky turned orange. That color slowly shifted to red-violet. Something inside Takemichi moved slowly within this silence. Here, he didn't have to play the role of an ordinary high school student. He didn't have to smile. He didn't have to say everything's fine—for the first time, he felt this in a place. And from today, Yuu was on that rooftop. Whether that was terrifying or a relief, Takemichi couldn't tell. ───── From the next day, Takemichi began speaking to Yuu of his own accord. In the morning, when Yuu took her seat, he asked, "How far did we get in math yesterday?" Yuu answered, "Page 43." It was brief, but the fact that she had answered loosened something in Takemichi's chest, though he barely noticed it himself. After school, they stood together on the rooftop again. Silence was frequent. Yuu never spoke of her past. Takemichi didn't speak at first either. But in the downward gaze hidden within Yuu's golden eyes as she looked at the sky, he sensed the exhaustion that comes from continuous defeat. On Wednesday's walk home along Komatsuhara Central Street, Takemichi pushed his left sleeve up slightly. "[serious]This scar is from a battle I lost a year and a half ago" Yuu looked at his wrist. The old burn scar. Her gaze lingered there. "[serious]It should be a finished battle, but my body remembers it. Every time I hear that sound, every time that face appears—I feel like I'm still there" Yuu said nothing. She didn't deny it. She offered no words of sympathy. She simply listened. That quietness gave Takemichi permission to continue. Words came out. Scattered, unorganized. It was the first time he'd shown this face to anyone. Hinata felt the change with certainty. When they passed in the hallway on Tuesday during lunch, Takemichi's profile was different. Wednesday morning, when Takemichi spoke briefly with Yuu, his expression was different. Not a forced smile. A natural expression, tension released. How many times had Haruki failed to draw it out? On the rooftop, crying and screaming, yet still unable to draw out Takemichi's true face—it existed only before this unknown girl who had transferred in. The word jealousy wasn't enough. Something deeper, quiet and sharp, pierced Hinata's chest soundlessly and wouldn't come out. ───── Wednesday after school, only Hinata and Yuu remained in the classroom. As classmates left one by one, Hinata was putting away the blackboard erasers. Yuu's hand was on her bag on the desk. The moment they were alone, Hinata walked toward Yuu. Hinata was smiling. Her clear blue eyes looked directly at Yuu. Her voice was gentle. "[gentle]You've gotten close with Takemichi-kun, haven't you, Yuu-chan" Yuu saw in an instant that her eyes weren't smiling. "[cold]...You like him, don't you" Hinata's smile froze for a moment. Then it slowly changed into a different expression. Not a smile. Something rawer, more exposed. "[serious]It's not about liking or anything like that" Hinata's voice dropped. It trembled. Anger and sadness and fear mixed together, and she couldn't tell where it came from. "[serious]I've always been by his side. Always. You don't understand how much that person—" The words stopped midway. She knew that if she continued, she would break. Hinata bit her lip. Yuu remained silent. She picked up her bag and moved toward the classroom door. As she passed Hinata, Hinata's voice flew after her. "[sad]Don't get close. Don't break him any more than he already is" Yuu's feet stopped. Just for an instant. Then she continued walking. She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. A faint pain crossed her profile. Hinata's words had struck Yuu precisely where they mattered. Don't break—those words overlapped with Yuu's own past. Yuu too had been on the verge of breaking. She remained here, still on that verge. Because she knew that, Hinata's words hurt. The pain confirmed that the sensation of hurt still existed within her. Walking down the hallway, Yuu verified this. Inside the classroom, Hinata was alone. For a long time, no one came. ───── Late at night, Takemichi's home. His mother was already asleep. The 2DK apartment was quiet. Takemichi sat on the floor of his six-mat room, still in his school shirt. The ceiling's water stain in the upper right was visible in the electric light. In the distance, the JR Kaminarai Line's last train passed. The moment the sound reached him, his vision went dark. Someone was collapsed. The color of blood. The grinding of bone. Which timeline's scene was this, was it something that actually happened, was it the residue of a future that had vanished—he couldn't tell. Multiple images overlapped, then vanished. Takemichi kept his back against the wall and steadied his breathing. It was a practiced motion. He'd done it dozens of times. But each time he grew accustomed to it, som