The news about Yajima spread throughout the entire team before dawn. Harumichi came to Warehouse 3 the next morning at his usual time. No one was there. The sofa sat empty. The tool shelf area. The whiteboard. No one drinking canned coffee. It was a time when someone usually showed up, but beyond the sliding door lay only air. The sound inside the warehouse was different. No footsteps. No laughter. No metal tools clanging. Only the vending machine motor humming quietly. Harumichi stepped inside. Closed the sliding door. He sat on the sofa. Ren was there. Back against the wall, operating a smartphone. Blonde hair slightly disheveled. Water-blue eyes fixed on the screen, but they lifted when Harumichi sat down. "[serious]……Read receipts. Not coming." A quiet voice. Different from the usual Ren. No laughter. Harumichi said nothing. Ren lowered the smartphone. Turned the screen toward Harumichi. Group message thread. Messages from Harumichi lined up. None had read receipts. He looked at the whiteboard. Until race day——2 days remaining. Only numbers sat there. The team members weren't coming. News of Yajima leaking information had spread. But that wasn't the problem. Trust had collapsed. Harumichi was hiding something alone. Moving something alone——that atmosphere was stopping the members' feet. Outside the window, the sea glimmered. Salt smell drifting thin. Harumichi couldn't move from the sofa. Ren stood up. "[gentle]Going outside to check something." Just that. Opened the sliding door and left. Alone. Harumichi stood. Walked through the warehouse. Sofa. Tool shelf. Ren's helmet on the shelf. Whiteboard. Everything there. Everything in its usual place. Only humans were missing. Images flowed through his mind. Previous timeline——Ren running the cliff section of Tatsumi Pass. Approaching the 7th curve. Oil spread on the road surface. Tires sliding. Hitting the guardrail. Going over. Disappearing down the cliff. He came back to stop that. Yet now the team was empty. The spy leaked everything. Takamura already knew. Ren still insisted on racing. Two days left with no moves available. The meaning of time leaping made no sense. Why did time rewind. What should have been done. Could anything have been done at all. If he failed this time, Ren would die again. That thought swelled in his chest. Swelled and swelled until breathing stopped. Harumichi stood before the warehouse's iron wall. Punched. A dull sound. Bang. Again. Bang. Again. Bang. On the fourth hit, his knuckles split. Hot sensation. But pain was distant. Far away. Couldn't feel it. Not feeling it was more terrifying. Harumichi pressed his forehead to the wall. Rough breathing came out. From the sliding door direction, faint wave sounds. Something seeping from his knuckles. Red color at the edge of vision. Can't do anything else. That phrase alone repeated in his head, but nothing followed. 　　　＊ Past noon. Stepped outside the warehouse. The wharf air was salty. Clouds filled the sky, light spreading flat. Low waves crashed with sound. Takamura was there. Standing alone near the wharf entrance. Black hair swept back. His 182-centimeter frame naturally fit between the surrounding warehouses. White teeth showing. His usual smile. Walking toward Harumichi. Footsteps quiet. Not hurrying. A thin silver bracelet on his left wrist glinted dully in the hazy light. "[gentle]Working hard alone, Sakuragi." His voice was calm. Not blaming. Sounded concerned. Harumichi stood watching Takamura. Takamura's eyes glanced at Harumichi's right hand for just a moment. Cloth wrapped to the wrist. Then his gaze lifted. Didn't touch on it further. "[cold]……What do you want." "[gentle]Didn't come because I wanted something." Takamura leaned against the warehouse exterior wall. About three meters from Harumichi. Not far, not close. "[gentle]Kisaragi's insisting on racing. Since he's decided it himself, it's hard to stop him, right." Harumichi stayed silent. "[gentle]The team kids aren't showing up today either." No change in his voice. Just stating facts. "[gentle]Sakuragi, I think——you're carrying too much alone." Said it with a smile. "[gentle]The team doesn't trust you. Not in this state. You can see it clearly, right." Harumichi couldn't say anything. Couldn't deny it. It was fact. This morning's warehouse was proof. Unread messages were proof. "[gentle]Can't stop Kisaragi from racing. Team's falling apart. No matter what you do, it feels too late already." Takamura tilted his head slightly. "[sarcastic]……Giving up makes it easier. Really." Only the last part was softer. Like he was genuinely worried. Harumichi kept watching Takamura's face. Searched for words to counter. None. Nowhere to find them. Each of Takamura's words was precise. Ren wasn't being stopped. Team wasn't coming. Information was completely exposed. All true. Takamura pushed off from the wall. "[gentle]That's all I came for." Left the wharf with the same gait he came with. Didn't look back. Just walked. Harumichi watched his back disappear. Felt his knees lose strength. Standing properly on both feet, yet his knees felt unreliable. Put his hand on the wall. Cold iron of the warehouse touched his palm. Takamura's figure turned the corner of the wharf and vanished. Only wave sounds remained. 　　　＊ Night came. Couldn't return to the warehouse. Couldn't return to his room either. Harumichi rode his bike. No destination decided, and when he noticed, he'd arrived at the Kouz River riverbed. Kouz River——flowing east-west through central Minato-Saki City, with Seagull Wharf near the mouth. At this hour, no one was on the riverbed. Sat at the edge of the ground. River flowing sound. Low, constant. Water surface faintly reflecting night light. Wind was cold. Sleeve of his jacket swayed. Floating up in sequence in his head. Takamura's smile. Yajima's voice apologizing while crying. Group message screen that wouldn't deliver. This morning's empty warehouse. Only Ren's helmet sitting on the shelf, that sight. (Maybe I should stop.) That thought came clearly as words for the first time. Until now he'd avoided thinking it. But now it was arranged clearly in letter form in his head. Should stop. Should give up. Keep quiet with Ren, keep saying don't race, and if that doesn't reach him——I can't do anything more than that. While that thought was in his head, the river kept flowing. Wind came. That moment——the voice from the dream returned. Ren's voice. The voice heard in the dream the night he time-leaped. ——Why aren't you chasing after me. Harumichi looked at the water surface. Remembered the rest of the voice. ——Don't just chase. Run together. Don't carry everything alone. River flowing sound. Harumichi stared at the water surface, thinking about the meaning of those words. He'd been carrying it alone. Always. The time leap. Takamura's plan. Ren's future death. Everything alone, moving alone, searching for the spy in the team alone——because he was alone, the spy exposed everything. Because he was alone, he couldn't stop the team from falling apart. Because he was alone, Takamura struck his weak points precisely. Because he was alone. Trembling breath came out. Cold wind comes. River sound exists. Tell Ren. Everything. Tell him. About the time leap. That Ren dies a year from now. The trap Takamura's setting. About Yajima. About moving alone until now. Everything. Whether he'd be believed was unknown. Absurd story. Time rewound, you fell off a cliff and died, such a story——no guarantee Ren would hear it and say "understood." But——there's nothing else. Harumichi stood up. Brushed dirt from his knees. Gripped the bike key. Lights of the city beyond the river. Past the mouth of Kouz River, Seagull Wharf. East from there, Shiokaze Street. Where Ren lived wasn't far from there. Going. Tell Ren. Just, another wall waited ahead. After telling Ren everything, whether Ren would believe it——another wall. The time leap story, Ren might laugh it off. Might not believe. Harumichi started his bike engine. Sound drowned out the river. Can't do anything else. This time, it continued.