After Uguisu-senpai knocked some sense into me, I finally realized that I could support Takamine from the shadows without inserting myself into the main story. I waited in the library, chatting with Uguisu-senpai, until my phone started ringing. Taking it out, I saw a message from Yuka:
"I'm sorry for everything…"
What did she mean by this message?
I put my phone back in my pocket, excused myself to senpai, and went up to the rooftop.
"Yuka?" I called out, looking around, but she was nowhere to be found. There was only one girl standing there, gazing off into the distance.
This girl…
"Hey," I called out to her.
She turned to look at me, her eyes filled with a sadness I couldn't quite understand.
"Do you know where Yuka is?" I asked.
The girl stayed silent, ignoring me, and continued looking away. After a moment, I walked up beside her and leaned against the railing.
"Did something happen?" I asked.
She didn't say anything but gave a simple nod.
When I looked at her, something stirred in my memory… I felt like I'd seen her somewhere before. But where? Did we meet before? What was this feeling?
Without thinking, I asked her, "You're the girl I met at the entrance ceremony, right? I have this feeling we know each other from somewhere…"
"Himeya…"
I froze.
Did she just… call my name?
"You…"
She looked at me with those deep, turquoise-blue eyes, gazing at me with an intensity that reached into the past.
"Did you forget?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Did you forget about me?!"
What…?
"How do you know me?" I stammered.
"Sumire," she whispered.
"Sumire…?"
"Kawasaki Sumire…" she said, and her name echoed in my mind, stirring up old memories.
That's right… She was the girl I knew in elementary school, the one who played piano…
"Sumire? It's really you?"
Suddenly, she threw her arms around me, her emotions spilling over as she cried against my chest. I didn't know what to say, so I just held her, letting her release whatever she'd been holding inside.
After a while, we sat down together on the rooftop. The sky, once a clear blue, was now a warm golden hue, painting the rooftop in a soft glow. I hadn't realized how much time had passed.
"I thought you were in Okinawa, Sumire," I said.
"I was," she replied softly, "but for some reason, I was transferred here. I ended up at the same school… as my sister."
"It was a shock finding out that Yuka is actually your older sister, you know?" I said, giving a small smile.
She laughed lightly. "Pfft… Himeya-kun, you're still the same."
We shared a brief, comfortable silence, both of us lost in the weight of our unexpected reunion.
"So… all this time, you never forgot me?" I asked hesitantly.
Sumire's smile softened, and for a moment, we just sat there watching the sunset. The quiet felt comfortable, as if the years of distance had faded, leaving only the two of us, side by side again.
"I can't believe it," I finally said, breaking the silence. "You were always that quiet, shy girl, playing piano in the music room… Now here you are, looking so different. It's like you've really changed, Sumire."
She gave a small laugh, glancing down. "I guess I have. We all have, right?"
There was a sadness in her tone, but I couldn't quite place why. I continued, "Life took some strange turns, didn't it? I never thought I'd end up at this school, and I definitely never thought I'd see you here."
"Yeah, fate has a way of surprising us," she replied softly, looking away. "Sometimes in ways we aren't prepared for…"
I chuckled, still feeling amazed. "It's a good surprise, though. I'm glad to have my old friend back."
Sumire nodded, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Me too, Himeya."
After a brief silence, she hesitated, then said, "Actually… I wanted to talk to you about something. It's about Yuka."
The memory of Yuka's message flashed in my mind: *"I'm sorry for everything…"* I felt a strange twinge of concern as I recalled her words.
"What is it?" I asked, glancing at Sumire.
She took a deep breath, looking thoughtful. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Yuka has been struggling. She's going through a lot."
"Struggling?" I repeated, surprised. "She always seems so strong. Like she's got everything under control."
Sumire shook her head slightly. "She might seem that way, but… Himeya, she puts a lot of pressure on herself. She feels like she has to be perfect, that she can't let anyone down."
I frowned, feeling a bit of guilt. Had I missed something? Yuka and I had always been close, but maybe I hadn't seen the weight she carried. "I didn't know," I said quietly. "I guess I just assumed she was fine."
"She cares about you, Himeya," Sumire said, her voice barely a whisper. "More than you realize."
Something in her tone made me pause. I looked at Sumire, wondering what she meant, but before I could ask, she quickly looked away, hiding whatever emotion had flickered in her eyes.
"I think," she continued, gathering herself, "Yuka just needs someone who can understand her, someone who can see past the strong face she puts on."
"Yeah," I nodded, feeling a new determination. "I'll be there for her. Thanks for telling me, Sumire."
She smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes. "It's nothing. I just thought you should know."
I watched her, wondering if I'd missed something. There was a distant look on her face, a hint of longing I couldn't quite read. She had changed—she was still the same Sumire I knew, but she seemed older, as if she'd gone through things I couldn't fully understand.
"You know," I said, trying to lighten the mood, "you're so different from how I remember you. Back then, you barely said a word to anyone, but now…" I trailed off, smiling. "It's like you've become someone totally new."
Sumire let out a soft laugh, her expression bittersweet. "People change, Himeya. Sometimes, we have to. But… maybe not as much as it seems."
For a moment, her gaze softened, lingering on me with an intensity that made my chest tighten. But then she quickly looked away, hiding whatever had surfaced.
As she turned her gaze back to the horizon, I couldn't help but wonder what she meant. I felt like there was something just beyond my reach, something I wasn't seeing. But before I could think on it further, Sumire spoke again.
"Just promise me you'll be kind to Yuka," she said softly. "She really needs someone right now."
I nodded, feeling the weight of her request. "I promise, Sumire. I'll make sure she's okay."
She smiled, but there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes that I couldn't quite place. "Thank you, Himeya. Yuka… really cares about you."
Her words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, it felt like there was something unsaid, something just beneath the surface. But Sumire's expression remained steady, hiding whatever it was she was holding back.
The sun was dipping lower, casting the rooftop in the warm, fading light of evening. "Well," I said, feeling the need to break the quiet, "I'm glad you're back, Sumire. It's good to have you here again."
"Yeah," she replied, her voice soft. "It's good to be back."
As the light faded, we sat together in comfortable silence, watching the last hues of the sunset disappear. And although I didn't understand it at the time, there was a heaviness in the quiet between us—a silent emotion Sumire kept locked away, hidden behind her gentle smile.
And as I sat beside her, oblivious to the feelings she was carefully concealing, I realized only one thing: I had two friends by my side who each held their own burdens, and somehow, I was now at the center of them both.