-CLASSROOM 1-B, AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, SAPPORO, HOKKAIDO, JAPAN-
-9:12 AM, NOVEMBER 23, 2016-
Ichika Komori missed it the moment she noticed it.
The seat beside the window. The way the morning light usually slipped across the courtyard. The quiet certainty that somewhere nearby, Rikuu Arakawa was standing exactly where he always stood.
Her pen paused above her notebook.
She shook her head lightly and forced herself to focus on the lesson. It wasn't like anything was wrong. Nothing had changed. They weren't classmates. They didn't walk to school together.
And yet—
Her eyes drifted to the clock.
Too early.
-SCHOOL COURTYARD, AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, SAPPORO-
-7:56 AM, NOVEMBER 23, 2016-
The low wall was empty.
Ichika stopped short.
She stood there longer than she meant to, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Students passed behind her, voices overlapping, but the space in front of her felt strangely hollow.
He's probably just late, she told herself.
But the thought didn't ease the weight in her chest.
She turned away only when the bell rang.
-THEATRE ARTS CLUB ROOM, AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE-
-4:11 PM, NOVEMBER 23, 2016-
Rehearsal started without him.
Ichika sat on the stage steps, script open on her lap, eyes flicking to the door more often than the page.
He usually arrived early. He always did.
When the door finally slid open, relief hit her before she could stop it.
Rikuu stepped in quietly, jacket still dusted with cold, expression unchanged.
"You're late," she said before thinking.
He blinked. "…Am I?"
She realized how it sounded and quickly added, "I mean—not late-late. Just… later."
"…Had something to finish," he said.
"Oh." She nodded. Then softer, "Okay."
They rehearsed as usual.
But Ichika stumbled twice.
Not on her lines—but on the pauses.
Rikuu noticed.
"You're distracted," he said during a break.
She looked up. "I am?"
"…Yeah."
She hesitated, fingers curling against the edge of her script. "When you weren't there this morning… it felt strange."
He didn't answer right away.
"I didn't think I'd notice," she admitted. "But I did."
Rikuu studied her—not sharply, not suspiciously. Just quietly.
"…You rely on patterns," he said.
She smiled faintly. "And you're part of mine now."
The words settled between them.
Not heavy. Not awkward.
Just true.
Rikuu looked away first. "…I didn't plan to be."
"I know," she said. "That's why it surprised me."
They resumed rehearsal.
But this time, Ichika didn't look at the door again.
Because he was there.
And somehow, that was enough.