I woke up before the alarm went off. 5:17 AM. The ceiling of Room 102 at Heights Shirakaba was white, as always. Shinji kicked off his futon and sat up. (Today. I'm definitely going to see who it is.) Fifth day since transferring. Every morning, a bento box sitting on his desk. The sender—nobody knew. Yesterday, the day before—it was already there when he arrived at class. So he'd just come earlier. Simple. Shinji washed his face and put on his uniform. Still dark outside. Beyond the window, a single streetlight glowed in the narrow alley of Heights Shirakaba, its orange light pooling on wet asphalt. He made it to Daisan Middle in fifteen minutes of walking. Before six. The school gate was already open—or rather, it was a public school, so he could just walk in. The hallway had only half its lights on. Dim. His footsteps echoed louder than expected, so Shinji found himself tiptoeing. He stood in front of the door to Class 2-1. He pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He pulled gently—locked. (Good. Nobody's here yet.) Shinji slid down the wall and sat on the floor. He'd wait here. There was no way into the classroom without using this hallway—probably. He waited. Ten minutes. Twenty. The hallway gradually brightened. The lights came on automatically. From somewhere near the staff room, he heard someone drinking coffee. Thirty minutes. Shinji hugged his knees, starting to doze. He'd woken up early yesterday too, tense, and hadn't gotten enough sleep. His eyelids were heavy. "…I mustn't run away." He told himself. Stay awake. Around the forty-minute mark, footsteps echoed from the distant stairs. Shinji's head snapped up. Around the corner—someone was coming. He stood and pressed himself against the side of the door. The footsteps got closer. His heartbeat was loud. Almost there. Almost time to find out who made the bento. The footsteps stopped. At a junction further down the hallway, the janitor stood with a rag, slowly wiping the windows. …Not it. Shinji pressed his forehead against the wall. Five minutes later, a teacher with the key to his class arrived and opened the door, surprised. "Ikari, what are you doing here so early?" When Shinji sat at his desk—the bento was already there. "[surprised]…Huh?" Again. A bento wrapped in white cloth. Today, a single small wildflower was placed beside it. How did it get in? Nobody came down the hallway. The door was locked. He'd been watching for over forty minutes. Shinji rushed into the hallway, looking around, but there was no one. Right, left, back to the classroom. The mystery only deepened. --- "Why do you have bags under your eyes?" Asuka arrived at school and stood beside Shinji's desk, looking exasperated. Her lustrous red hair swayed. Her aqua-blue eyes narrowed. Her uniform was crisp as always, her posture perfect. "I…I just woke up early," "[sarcastic]Early and you look like that? What time did you get up?" "…Around five." "[surprised]What? What for?" Shinji pointed at the bento on his desk. Asuka saw it and said, "Ah, I see." "[sarcastic]So you staked it out? From five in the morning?" "…Didn't work out though." "[laughing]Pfft—ahaha! And it was still there!?" Asuka doubled over laughing. Kids around them turned to look. Shinji's face started heating up. Then Asuka pulled out a larger lunch box from her seat and plunked it down on Shinji's desk. "[serious]Eat mine too. It's definitely better than yesterday." "[serious]I know the tamagoyaki was a little too burnt yesterday. I remade it perfectly today." Touji Suzuhara from the next seat was watching while wiping his desk with his jersey sleeve. Fourteen, from Kansai, loud voice. "[laughing]Asuka, you brought a rival bento again. Smells better than yesterday." "[angry]Suzuhara, that's not your business!" "It is. We've been watching every day." Before he knew it, kids from nearby seats were leaning in. The "Ikari Bento Showdown" that started yesterday—it was becoming the class's daily entertainment. --- When lunch break came, the classroom's atmosphere changed. Two bentos sat on Shinji's desk. The mystery bento and Asuka's. A few kids around them were saying, "Let's see which one he opens first." Shinji slowly unwrapped the mystery bento's cloth. Today: dashi-rolled egg, glazed chicken, simmered hijiki. It smelled good. Asuka went quiet for a moment. "[angry]Eat mine first! There's an order to these things!" "But…order doesn't really—" "[angry]If you eat that first, mine will get cold!" "B-both are delicious…" "[angry]That's not an answer!" "[laughing]She's desperate as hell." "[angry]Suzuhara, shut up!" Shinji cautiously picked up chopsticks for the mystery bento. One piece of dashi-rolled egg. The umami spread gently across his tongue. Asuka's face turned red. Not the red of a bad mood. Something different. But she slammed her hand on the desk. "[serious]Next time, eat mine first. That's an order." Shinji nodded slightly. He opened Asuka's lunch box. Sure enough—the burnt edges on the tamagoyaki were lighter than yesterday. The rice balls held their shape better. She'd definitely improved since she first brought one three days ago. "…You're getting better at this." Asuka looked away slightly. "[sarcastic]Of course. When I put in effort, this is what happens." But the corners of her aqua-blue eyes were smiling a little. --- After afternoon classes, Shinji was still searching for the bento maker. First floor, second, third. He peeked into the library, passed the school store, walked to the gym entrance. Someone was delivering something to him, and he couldn't stop wondering why. When he reached the connecting corridor. Gehirn Square—that gray office building next to Daisan Middle—connected to the school building by this hallway. Few windows. A bit dim. A tall figure walked toward him from the other direction. Shinji looked up. Sunglasses. Gloves. Dark suit. A mouth that gave nothing away. (Ah.) His feet stopped. "Father…" It was barely a voice. Ikari Gendo. Director of the Gehirn Education Foundation that oversaw Daisan Middle and its affiliated schools—his own father. Someone he hadn't seen in years. Gendo's pace slowed, just slightly. The eyes behind the sunglasses—turned toward Shinji. Their eyes definitely met. Shinji opened his mouth. He was about to call out, "F-Father." Gendo said nothing. He passed right beside Shinji, straight ahead. Didn't look back. His footsteps faded. The door on the Gehirn Square side of the corridor closed quietly. Shinji stood there for a while. He put his hand against the wall. (He's the director, so it makes sense he'd be here. Yeah, he was just here for work. That's all.) He told himself. But the back of his eyes grew warm. He didn't know if it was anger or loneliness anymore. Just—what did it mean to say nothing? Shinji slowly walked back to the classroom. --- "Café or haunted house? Let's vote!" After school, homeroom started to decide on the class's cultural festival project. Daisan Middle's "Keyaki Festival"—held every October, third weekend, with each class competing on their offerings. Asuka's hand shot up immediately. "[serious]Café! If we add German pastries to the menu, we'll stand out from the other classes. This is definitely the way." "A haunted house would get more hype! Last year's third-year class won with a haunted house!" The class split in two. When they counted the votes—café: 16, haunted house: 16. Exactly tied. The air went flat. Asuka's gaze turned to Shinji. "[cold]Ikari. Which one do you want?" Shinji looked down. The connecting corridor was still on his mind. Gendo passing without a word. Not knowing who made the bento. He felt tired today. "E-either one is fine for me…" The classroom went quiet. Asuka pulled back her chair and stood up. "[angry]Either one is fine? You don't even have an opinion!?" "No, that's not—" "[angry]If that's not it, then what is it!? It's your own class, so why are you running away!? You're really hopeless, you know that!?" Asuka's voice carried across the room. A few kids looked uncomfortable, staring out the window. Touji glanced over, then looked away. Shinji couldn't say anything back. His mouth wouldn't move. He pulled back his chair and stood. "…I'm going to get some air." He ran. He ran again. Walking down the hallway, a voice echoed in his head. I mustn't run away—but his feet wouldn't stop. --- He pushed open the roof door. Wind came. Evening wind, cold. The sky burned orange and purple. The ridgeline of the Hakone mountains was sharp and clear. Beyond the Towada hills, the sun was setting. Shinji crouched in the shadow of the water tank and hugged his knees. Asuka's angry words repeated in his head. You don't even have an opinion. Why are you running away. You're hopeless. (She's right. I am hopeless.) He wanted someone to acknowledge him, but he couldn't say anything, so he always ran. It had been like this forever. At his uncle's house. Today too. A bird called in the distance. Footsteps. Shinji started to look up—but the footsteps stopped before he could. A presence, then—silence. Shinji slowly turned his head. No one. But something had been placed right beside his knees. A canned coffee. Warm. Still hot. Just bought. A small piece of paper was taped to the can's surface. Shinji picked it up. "Do your best." Just three characters. Small, clear handwriting. Shinji stared at the memo for a long time, unable to move. (Who is it?) The same person who left the bento? Someone else? He didn't know. He didn't know their face or name. But—someone came here. They knew Shinji was here. And they left something behind. Maybe he wasn't alone. Something in his chest swelled. Tears threatened, but Shinji held them back. While holding them back, he pulled the tab on the can. Pshhh. He took a sip. Bitter. Pretty bitter. But warm. Shinji whispered softly. "[whispers]…I mustn't run away." This time, his voice sounded a little different. --- The next day, homeroom started again. 16 to 16 again. The class went quiet. Shinji gripped his hands under his desk. He'd been thinking about it all night. Sitting on the roof with the coffee can, until the sky went dark. Slowly, he raised his right hand. It trembled slightly. "[scared]I…I think the café is better." The classroom went silent. Shinji continued. His voice almost cracked, but he finished. "With a haunted house, you can't talk to customers slowly…I think the café gives us more time to talk with everyone." A beat. Asuka crossed her arms. "[cold]…Hmph. Not a bad opinion." Touji raised his hand. "Then I'm going with that too." The café got 17 votes. "Café it is!" Applause. Laughter mixed in. Shinji's palms were sweating, but he looked up a little. His voice had moved the class. Probably the first time in his life. (I said it.) He glanced out the window. On the east side of Daisan Middle, on the sixth floor of the adjacent Gehirn Square—a figure in the window. Sunglasses. Gendo was looking down at him. Since when? What was he thinking? The sunglasses revealed nothing. Shinji met that gaze and looked forward, just a little. The applause continued in the classroom. But—the memo saying "do your best" was still in his pocket. He still didn't know who gave it to him.