Coincidences are a terrifying thing.

You see, people really hate change. The world around us is always stagnant, unchanging. From day to day, so many things stay the same. Things you probably take for granted. You probably wake up in the same place every day. You probably go through the same routine for who knows how long, then head to school, a job, I don't know. If it's a weekend, you'll probably find leisure in the same hobbies you've held for years.

These routines, they're everything. Your security, your comfort, whatever. Maybe things could be better, but as they are now, you feel safe.

So, a coincidence, a random happening that can turn everything on its head-- they have to be one of the worst things that can happen. Things change, and sometimes, you don't even know why. It's like… The Butterfly Effect, I think it's called. Or was it Chaos Theory? Butterfly beats its wings somewhere and things happen somewhere else, I think… Isn't there a weather report involved somehow?

Er-- It doesn't matter. Point is, I don't hate coincidences. I hate that people hate them. I hate *the people* that hate them.

But then, how many coincidences led my life to where it is? A starting point, a root cause, something. ...If I had to guess, it would've begun on that Wednesday, right after school.

I was cleaning a classroom that day. Earlier, Sakae bumped into me, and made me knock over a set of pens, which exploded--

Hm. I guess I should start there, then.

I have a group of friends.

Sakae, Rie, Nagisa. Then there's me, Kosaku, to make four. Although those three are almost squarely in the category of people who I was talking about earlier, they're nice, at least. At school, for their sake, I make sure to smile as much as everyone else, even if it's not quite as genuine.

So, Rie got shoved by Sakae, and she stumbled into me, causing me to knock her pen case off her desk. The pens scattered out across the floor like caltrops, and in an attempt to steady myself, I wobbled around in a pen-destroying waltz, crushing almost every single one as I went. The floor was thinly coated with a puddle of ink.

The teacher didn't take kindly to that, and had me stay late to mop the mess off the floor. Sakae offered to stay and help me clean, while Nagisa comforted Rie, who was nearly having a breakdown. I told him he didn't have to, and to go check in with Rie. It was fine, I didn't want to make them stay late or my sake.

After about half an hour of work washing the ink out of the floorboards, I was finally dismissed. Not because I was finished, but because the teacher supervising me was getting tired of standing around at their desk.

I checked the time. It was still pretty early. School ended pretty much just then, after all. I tossed the mop into a corner of the classroom and grabbed my bag. The teacher grumbled to herself as she locked the door behind me, and waved me off to go home. I nodded and walked away silently, afraid that I would say something that would only get me in deeper if I so much as opened my lips.

As soon as I exited the silent halls of the school, I turned to go downtown. My house was the other way, but I felt like it would be a good idea to head to the local book store. They sold stationery there, and I owed it to Rie to replace the pens I broke. She was an artist, after all. She was nearly in tears when Nagisa and Sakae walked her out of the classroom. Breaking someone's cheap ballpoints was one thing, but these were fine point pens of varying sizes, brands, colors, and probably other factors I didn't even realize were a thing.

...Being honest, it was probably a mistake to think I could even try to replace them, with my minimal knowledge of art supplies. I took a creative writing elective instead, since it felt like (and was) less work.

Regardless, I continued traversing the sidewalks, which grew more and more populated as I neared the city center. Students from all different schools walked around in groups, chatting and laughing. I hurried past, bundling my bag to my chest, and took a turn down a relatively empty street, more of an alley than a real road. Only a couple stores still did business back here. All the others had gone out of business, "FOR SALE" signs plastering the insides of their display windows.

However, the store I was looking for was back here. I turned towards the second storefront on my right, and entered Attack of the Antiques, the hole-in-the-wall bookstore that most of our town knew as the best place to buy anything related to bound paper, ever since it's closure and successive reopening as a not-an-antique store. The 'Antiques' part of the sign was covered with a sheet of printer paper, held up with blue masking tape. Scribbled over it, the new owner wrote 'Books'. I always just guessed they couldn't afford a new sign.

As I pushed the door open, bells sounded a muted jingle to announce my entrance. I'm sure that when this place was new, and still an antique store, they sounded clear and, well, not rusty, but after all this time, I guess they hadn't been maintained. The sound was more the metallic equivalent to the croak of a dying bird.

I knew where they sold stationery and art supplies. As a group, we'd all been here a couple of times when Rie wanted new pens, or that one time that Sakae burned all his notebooks for fun.

Nodding to the employee slouched over the cash register, half asleep, I walked back to the 'School/Art Supplies' aisle.

Gazing up at the 7 foot wall, slotted from top to bottom with pens and pencils of differing types and brands, my heart sank. I had a feeling I made a terrible mistake.

Never before had a wall of just… *pens* been so intimidating. I recognized a few brands that Rie had pointed out, but I recognized them in the context of her saying, "Oh yeah, I hate these ones", so that was a no-go.

I couldn't remember the logos that were on her favorites, and the cashier (the only employee the store ever had on staff) was asleep. There was a small sketchpad you could use to sample some pens that the store recommended, but the problem was that I had no idea what I was looking for in the first place. I couldn't recognize the often-quoted 'Seven Qualities of a Good Pen', which is a thing I just made up, anyways.

I decided to go home. I was tired, and could use some rest. Not really. I was awake, but I changed my mind. I didn't want to do this right now. I could go again some other time, and hopefully I could glean some information on what I would need to buy in order to avoid incurring Rie's wrath in the meantime.

I shook my head and turned back. I already had enough pen-based trauma from this one moment in my life, no need to prolong it.

However, as I rounded the shelves, an oddly dramatic cough from behind me stopped me short. I turned around to find Rie standing behind me. She tilted her head quizzically and gestured to me with an empty shopping basket in hand.

"Kosaku? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Trying my best," I replied, downcast.

Her eyes flicked up to the pens lining the shelves. "Were you… replacing my stuff?"

"Trying to." I sighed. "I should pay for the damages, since I was the one to destroy your livelihood and all." I began fishing around in my pocket.

Rie smiled, suppressing a laugh. "That's dramatic."

"Thanks." I took out my wallet and flipped it open. "Look, can I just-- I don't know-- give you the money, go home, sit in my bed and-- well-- probably feel ashamed?"

She picked something off the shelf and began drawing on the test sketch pad. "Weren't you going to buy me new pens?"

"Yes?" I froze. "Oh no."

"Oh no?"

"You're right, if I give you the money, it's still you buying them, even if it's my money." My hand flew to my forehead.

"Sure?" Rie shook her head, her smile tinged with confusion. "I was going to say something normal, but that works too, I think." She slotted the pen she had tried back into the shelf.

"So?" I stared up at the Wall of Pens. "What am I buying? Or, well, what am I being told to buy?"

Rie elbowed me in the side, though not hard enough to hurt. "You brought this upon yourself, you know."

I shrugged. "I'd argue Sakae did that."

"Ask him for your money back later." Pens began clattering into her shopping cart, one by one. "Soooo, how much do you think you're spending?" Rie turned to me, her eyes alight with malice.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. I didn't like that look. It scared me. "I don't like that question."

"I wouldn't like it either. So, what do you think?" she grinned evilly.

I unfolded the pockets of my wallet. "I have four thousand yen and I've memorized my parents' credit card number." I glanced up. "Is that good enough?"

"No. Never. I need every penny you have." Rie shook her head.

"Like I said. Four thousands and a credit card number." I snapped my wallet closed. "No pennies in sight, sorry to disappoint."

Rie turned away from the wall of pens and gasped, her hand flying to her face. "You broke my fine-liners. You monster, only willing to spend that much." She offered me the basket. It was almost empty. The bottom was barely half covered. With every tilt, the contents rolled back and forth in a sliding clump. I raised an eyebrow at Rie, who nodded once, clasping her hands behind her.

"I'm done, though. Just this is fine," she said.

"Are you sure?" I hesitantly took the basket. "This doesn't look like much."

"Each of these pens costs a year's salary at minimum wage."

"Oh no!" I fell to my knees in mock panic.

Rie laughed, covering her mouth with her left hand. I half-smiled.

I stood back up and we took the basket to the cashier. After spending a couple minutes trying to figure out how to wake him up, he fell out of his chair in his sleep, solving our problem for us. He cursed for a good thirty seconds before he realized he had customers. He quickly plastered on a flimsy customer service smile and stood up, brushing dust off his legs. He was clearly trying to look professional, but Rie was hiding her laughter so poorly I almost felt bad.

For her, that is. She was really bad at that. Poor Rie.

In the end, the pens came out to three thousand three hundred and seventy five yen. I handed over my four thousand, dropped the change in the ornate mason jar they used for tips, and watched the drowsy cashier try to tear the receipt cleanly.

"You need some help there?" I asked.

"No, I'm just--" He yawned aggressively. "I'm just tired. I'm a professional," he said, tossing another hand-shredded receipt into the trash.

Rie took the pens, dropped them in her bag, and we left. The cashier's head dropped right back onto the desk as soon as we turned away from the register, and he went back to sleep.

The door ringed shut, and we walked out into the empty side street.

"Well?" I asked. "Are you going to extort any more out of me anytime soon?"

Rie tapped a finger to her chin and looked up, wondering. "Hmm… I think I'll just keep this favor dangling over your head. It's even more powerful like that."

"What are you, a loan shark?" I cracked my neck, punching my right hand into my left. "Look buddy, youse behind a couple thousand on those pen payments. We can do this the easy way… Or the hard way."

Rie raised an eyebrow. "You really don't look intimidating."

"To you. I bet I'd be terrified to see myself act like this." I shrugged and let my arms fall to my sides. "For now, my debt's paid, right? I have homework to do."

Rie nodded. "And…" She looked to the side, embarrassed. "Thank you. I really appreciate that you tried to help, especially on your own."

"I gave up right before I saw you, actually." I turned away. I didn't like compliments back then. I still don't.

"Hey!" She poked my shoulder, annoyed. "Let me finish complimenting you. Not a lot of people would go that far for a friend, so… Thanks."

I shrugged. "Yeah… You're welcome, I guess."

We walked out to the main street of downtown in an uncomfortable silence. With a wave, Rie turned right and walked away. I live in the opposite direction, which I was thankful for, because walking together would've been uncomfortable right after that kind of send-off.

I began to walk home, deep in thought.

Rie's words wouldn't stop ringing in my head.

'Not a lot of people would go that far for a friend.'

That's true, probably. I only acted out of the desire to satisfy my own guilt, and I doubt most 'friends' worry about things like that so much. I shook my head. It hurt me to listen to her speak highly of me, even if it was just a couple words.

I really don't like accepting undeserved compliments.

On a side note, I don't like accepting most compliments.

The person who's usually being complimented is the Kosaku they see at school, who talks with Sakae and Rie and Nagisa about nothing in particular and always smiles a half-smile, because any more would be too clearly forced.

I can't say I think of that guy as the same as me. Everything I do as him, all the helpful stuff, is to try and ease the guilt of making the people around me think they're friends with this false persona. They're friends with no one.

I guess… I'm really the sort of person who cares more about the reasons behind an action than the result, you know?

However, when you think like that, but also can't stop questioning what a 'normal' reason is, you probably aren't going to like most of the things you do.

I know I don't.

What's done is done, though. I try to not worry about what he did that day when I'm not acting out the role. It's too much stress for what it's worth.

I took the final steps up my house's driveway and stepped onto the porch. I reached for my keys.

I did not find my keys.

I probably cursed a lot.

My parents weren't getting home until late that day, and unless I had a way inside, I'd be-- well-- *outside*. Just to be sure, I checked my pockets again, but it didn't seem that I had made a mistake. I didn't have my keys. I sighed, my head falling forward and tapping the face of the closed door.

I'd done this before, on three separate occasions. Fortunately, though, that gave me an idea where to look. Every single time, they eventually turned up in the lost and found at the park I passed through every day, to get to school. I turned back and trudged away. The sun's glare was beginning to wane. According to my phone, it was 6:00 PM, almost time for dinner. I couldn't eat unless I found a way inside, too. I sighed again.

I reached the neighborhood park at my long journey's end (five minutes walking). The sun's orange glow cast shimmering reflections over the pond at the park's center, the ripples moving in sync with the grass waving in the breeze. A darkening sky and the sparse trees planted around the park framed the image, bringing it together.

It was a frustratingly nice day at an annoyingly beautiful place for me to have to get on my hands and knees and scrape around in the dirt to search for the tiny glint of my house key, especially as the day grew darker and darker. I tossed my school jacket over a nearby bench, dusted off my hands, and crouched down.

Fortunately, the ground wasn't muddy. The grass was damp, but that was fine. The weather must've been cool enough to let dew collect earlier than usual, but at worst it would stain, not soak my legs with muck. I pressed my palms to the grass, brushing them with dew, and began to crawl around on my hands and knees.

Thinking of stains, actually, this would be a mess if I ended up not finding my keys. There was no way I could attend school in a ragged, dirt-stained uniform, and if I waited until my parents got home, I wouldn't be able to clean myself up and sleep before school started.

My eyes caught a small shine in the grass. In a flash, I snatched it up out of the dirt.

Oh. It was a 10 yen coin. Change was useless to me. That much wouldn't even put a dent in my gigantic debt. I tossed it over my shoulder and kept looking.

On the bright side: losing my keys was bad, but if I had to lose them anywhere, and crawl around on my hands and knees to find them, there were worse places than a park at sundown on a weekday. Here, no one would think I was doing anything illegal, probably. Not that anyone would wonder. At this time of day, there was no one around--

"Are you looking for something?"

I froze.

Someone was around.

I slowly got to my feet. "Yes?" I asked.

"So? What is it?" they asked.

I turned around. Behind me, a girl in an unfamiliar school uniform stood with her arms crossed, watching me with a calculating look. I unconsciously took a step back, worried I was about to be accused of some crime or another.

"Who… are you?" I asked. "I'm not committing a crime."

"I'm a good person. I'm here to help." She paused, and raised a single finger. "I am acting on the presumption that you saying, 'I am not committing a crime' is some sort of elaborate joke, and not a poorly-framed lie, however."

"I'm not *trying* to do anything illegal."

"But you are?"

"I'm not. I think." I waved a hand around at the grass. "Look, nothing illegal on the ground."

"You aren't making yourself sound any more innocent."

"But I am."

"I know." She gestured for me to continue, rolling her wrist. "So? What are you looking for?"

"Oh, right…" I nodded. "I lost my keys, so I'm locked outside."

"I see." Unknown Girl X crouched down and started scanning the grass.

I watched her from above as she began searching the park, just as I had moments before. "Uh…"

She looked up at me and waved for me to join her. "Come on. We're looking for your keys, aren't we?"

"I-I guess we are. Huh." I shrugged and kneeled down to join the search.

For five minutes, we slowly trawled the park in silence. I was constantly shooting confused glances at the stranger, but she seemed riveted to the work. On the other, for me, endless thoughts of "Who is this? What does she want from me? Is this part of an elaborate scam?" kept me from focusing on the task at hand. Finally, the silence was broken, with an odd declaration.

"Ariko," she said, without looking up.

"What?" I asked. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"It's my name. It can be difficult to work with a stranger, so I should at least tell you that," Ariko said.

"Got it… Should I introduce myself too?" I asked.

"If you want to. I don't mind." She shrugged.

"I sort of do," I muttered. "Kosaku. Or, yeah, that's my name. Kosaku." I sat up on my knees and waved a more official greeting.

"I see." She met my gaze out of the corner of her eye.

"I hear," I responded in an instant.

"I refuse to make this into a pattern of stating the five senses with a pronoun in front." She turned back to her side of the park.

"Makes sense." I smiled and returned to my side, slightly more focused than before. "So, what are you doing at an empty park at sundown? If you don't mind me asking."

"I could ask the same," she pointed out.

"You actually did, remember? I'm not committing a crime, at least."

"Ah. Right."

"It is." I nodded.

"Then, for a real answer… Hm," Ariko said, "Soul-searching."

I frowned. "For real?"

"Not really. Was out of souls to search."

I frowned even deeper. "Oh."

"I was joking," Ariko said.

"When?"

"The second time."

I shrugged. "I have no clue when that was anymore."

She sighed. "The soul-searching part."

"Was a lie?" I asked.

"Was the truth," she answered.

"What's that mean? You sit here, stare at the water and occasionally wax philosophical out loud to the water?" I sat up and slowly flourished an arm towards the pond. If I knew any fancy quotes, this was where I would've recited them.

"Close enough. Considering my plan is to publish, however, I'd prefer to write in a notebook than talk to a pond, though." Ariko glanced back at me and rolled her eyes.

"Hey, well, you do you." I dropped my arm in disappointment.

"I will, thank you." She held an arm to her chest and gave a slight bow.

"No problem." I could feel myself smiling from ear to ear.

...This person was fun.

"So," I continued, "any earth-shaking revelations today?"

"No."

"Yesterday?"

"No."

"Oh, then tomorrow--!"

"Maybe."

I fell silent, my stupid jokes dying in my throat. After a moment of hesitation, I continued, with a slightly more serious tone.

"I guess I can't ask what it is, then." I clicked my tongue. "Since you haven't thought of it yet."

"You *can* ask," Ariko said, a tinge of smugness in her voice.

"I just won't get an answer." I smirked.

"Exactly."

I stood up, spun around and snapped my fingers in a flash. "Nope! Gotcha! There would be an answer. It would probably just be 'I don't know', but that still kind of counts!"

Ariko leaned back on her arms, smiling at me with her head tilted listlessly over her shoulder. "I could ignore you. I'd imagine most strangers would, at some point."

My overconfidence behind the stupid, dramatic gesture I just made drained away in an instant. I looked down and put my hands in my pockets, deflating. "Yeah… I've been talking a lot considering we're, you know, strangers. Er-- Sorry." I slowly exhaled, but didn't quite sigh. It wasn't a comfortable realization to have, exactly. I doubt anyone gets a kick out of genuinely annoying someone they find interesting.

"No, I don't mind. It's… refreshing." Ariko fluttered a hand from side to side, dismissing my statement.

"For real?"

She nodded. "You're talking a lot, but…" She mulled over her words, sitting upright and pulling at her bangs. "You speak your mind in full, don't you? It's nice to hear."

"Huh." I furrowed my brow. "I really am great."

"Do people respond well to that sort of thing?" Ariko asked.

"What sort of thing?" I ask.

She spun a finger in the air. "Hmm… When you compliment yourself so much."

I shrugged. "Hey, if no one else will, then you've gotta take matters into your own hands."

"And no one else will?"

"Yeah, I--" My conversation with Rie came back to mind. She said something… 'Most people wouldn't go this far for a friend', I think. I didn't think she was right, and I didn't know if it counted as a compliment, but, well…

I coughed to cut myself off. "Mostly. Sometimes."

Ariko hesitated. She turned to me and watched me for an instant, then nodded, contented with whatever she had realized.

"I won't pry. Apologies for asking," she said.

"No-- Don't worry about it," I said. I spotted a glint in the grass. "Hey, is that--"

I leaned down to pick it up. It was an old, dirt-encrusted 500 yen coin. Definitely not able to open my door for me, but still pretty cool. Maybe I could unscrew the hinges.

"Your keys?" Ariko asked, standing up.

"Nope. I found something better." I presented the coin to her with a smug grin.

"Ah, a tiny metal frisbee."

"No, it's a 500 yen coin." I sighed. "Let me be excited."

"Is it good luck?" she asked.

"Hm?" I glanced down at the coin again. It seemed too gritty to grant anything but a couple drinks from a corner store, not to mention good luck.

"Finding small denomination coins is supposed to be good luck, isn't it? Does that apply with this amount, too?"

I tilted my head. "I don't know. It's always about, like, 5 yen coins, right? So, I guess I'd feel better about picking those up, but I'd rather have 50 yen. Maybe even 10 or 20."

Ariko waved a finger from side to side in the air, like she was admonishing a child. "But you wouldn't pick those up off the street, would you?"

"No." I shook my head definitively. "Especially not 10 yen. Those are my least favorite." I shrugged, dropping the money into my pocket. "Whatever. It's a coincidence, anyways. Those sorts of superstitions are just for fun, right?"

"It's just a coin-cidence, you mean," Ariko said.

I took the coin back out of my pocket and threw it into the pond, where it sunk into the depths with a satisfying 'splish'. Goodbye, money. A burial at sea.

Ariko winced. "And, that was for?"

"After hearing that joke, I couldn't keep the money in good faith." I drooped my head sadly. It was a tragic event.

Ariko raised her eyebrows. "Yes, you could've."

"That's true. I wanted to do it, though."

She sighed. "And with that, every future where that coin led your windfall victory in the next lottery has been erased in an instant."

I raised a palm in objection. "Hey. If I wanted to gamble, I'd do it either way, 500 yen or not."

"Still, it could be a good luck charm. Like…" She tapped her cheek. "Old men like to gamble with rabbits' feet on their keychains, right?"

"I'm not an old man, and I don't have a keychain." I paused. "Also, I don't know if that's true."

Ariko lifted up her right hand, where my keys spun around her pointer finger. "It would probably be easier to keep track of these if you had a keychain, though."

I nodded awkwardly, slightly embarrassed I had relied on this stranger so much. "Thanks."

"I haven't returned them yet."

"Sorry," I said, "I take it back." She tossed the keys to me underhand, and I grabbed them out of the air as they clinked together. "So, now I can thank you?"

Ariko waved assent as she climbed to her feet. "Feel free."

"Eh. Maybe next time." I shrugged.

"Next time, I won't help you look. Not with that attitude," she said.

"Next time, I hopefully won't lose my keys." I grabbed my jacket off the bench where I had left it and pulled it on. "I should go, then. Thanks."

"Is it 'next time' so soon?" Ariko asked.

"I never said what it was next time for," I said. I frown. "I never got to ask what you were writing, though. There goes my easy-out conversation starter."

"Use it next time," she said.

"Next time I talk to you?"

"Next time you talk to anyone, if you feel like it."

I smirked. "I'll consider it." With a wave, I turned away and headed back along the path home.

The whole way, the smile never fully faded from my face. I wasn't sure why I was so comfortable talking to Ariko. I definitely thought it was something worth thinking about, but later. I didn't want to have a lengthy internal monologue keep me on the road for longer than I had to be.

I once again trekked up the driveway and stepped up onto my porch. At the door, I reached for my set of keys, which I had for sure this time, and let myself in. After blindly grabbing something to eat in a Russian Roulette of dietary needs, I ducked upstairs into my room.

I live in a small room, sort of like an attic space. It wasn't like I was being shut away up here, though. It was plenty tall enough for me to stand to my full height, at least at the center, and it made the room feel snug. A row of windows overlooking the street let the air feel fresh, never stuffy, and offered some natural light. An optimal room, if I had to say so myself.

I slogged my way back to the far end of the room and flopped back into my bed. It used to be further into the corner, because I thought it would be neat to sleep with the ceiling so close above me, but when I thought about the possibility of waking up to having a spider crawling just a foot above my face, I immediately dragged the bed frame over to the middle. It was stupidly loud, and scored the floor in an unsightly way, but my parents weren't home, so I got away scot-free. The day they find out about the scarred dents in the floor is the day I die. Probably.

I tugged off my jacket, tossed it over my desk chair, and threw my wallet and phone out of my pockets and onto the floor. With a clatter, they came to a stop. My wallet flopped open, displaying its empty interior. I winced. Right. I was poor now. Even for a high school student without a job, having absolutely no money was kind of bizarre.

Where did that money go again…?

Right. I spent it all on getting Rie new pens.

My eyes widened. Hey... I met her outside of school. I didn't say anything weird, did I? I put so much effort into how I acted at school, if I ruined it all with some stray comment…

I owed it to her to be nice. To all of them. I mentioned it a while ago. We were, by all definitions, friends, and we did things friends would, and talked about things friends would, but I just didn't feel like I was really a part of it. They were good people, for sure, but the way that we hung out, everything, it all felt wrong to me.

Even so, they let me stay with them anyways, even if it was unwittingly. Despite how distant I really was. I owed it to them, as the nice people they are, to let them feel like they had the good friend they deserved.

And, well, I suppose that 'friend they deserve' was rather liberal with his expenses.

I groaned, shoving my face into a pillow. I was hoping to buy myself… something. I can't remember what, but I was in the mood for an online shopping binge.

You know, maybe I should've kept that five hundred yen…

Throwing it away was a waste of money. Literally.

Though, to me, the small laugh I got out of it was enough. Normally, I would never do something so stupid, but being around that weird girl somehow made throwing away a decent amount of money feel worthwhile, entertaining. If I were on my own, I would've been that much richer, but I didn't have any regrets. Talking to her was worth it.

I know, I know. How gracious. "Talking to you was worth about as much as two drinks and a candy bar." I wouldn't say it in person.

...Well, I might. Especially around her, for some reason. She seemed weird enough that I wouldn't hesitate to say almost anything that came to mind.

"Soul-searching, huh…" I thought out loud.

It was an amusing phrase, but one that still made me curious. Something about it, the way she spoke, it felt like-- like something I wanted to hear -- maybe something I needed to hear. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I just felt it. It had to be true.

"Next time," I muttered, "I'll ask why."

Next time.

That was odd, too. How casually she said that. Like it was preordained that there would be a next time, and we were both just waiting for it to come. Was she some kind of oracle? Probably not. But even if she wasn't, I couldn't help but believe this particular premonition.

My phone buzzed again. Usually, we'd all meet up after school, but it seemed that Sakae, Nagisa and Rie were all busy, which meant I could go home on my own. But… She was at the park?

Tomorrow, maybe, I could afford a detour before going home.