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Fate, as the dictionary puts it, is "the development of events beyond a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power."
The moment Oikawa realized he'd already met Utaha before…
…it felt like his heart stopped for two seconds, then suddenly kicked back to life.
They stood on opposite sides of the street. The red light had less than ten seconds left, yet to Oikawa, it seemed to drag on forever.
Across the road, Utaha Kasumigaoka—
She wore a white strappy dress, cinched at the waist with a blue ribbon. Her bare arms were pale and smooth, almost like porcelain.
The smile on her face was like a spring breeze brushing gently across his chest. When their eyes met, she raised both hands and waved energetically, as if saying:
"Oikawa-Senpai, I'm here!"
Most girls, dressed like that, would go bare-legged to keep a pure, innocent look.
But Utaha wore black stockings.
In Oikawa's imagination, that combination should've clashed.
On her, though, it carried a strangely alluring charm.
Especially paired with her impressive figure… it stirred thoughts he probably shouldn't be having.
Oikawa couldn't quite tell— Was it just the filter he'd placed over her in his mind, or was she really this captivating?
"Captivating" almost felt like it carried a hint of something improper.
But he couldn't think of a better word for the girl standing in front of him.
The countdown ticked away.
"3… 2… 1…"
Utaha had been about to cross over to him, but when she saw him already striding toward her, she stopped.
Instead, she simply stood there.
Hands behind her back, wearing a gentle smile, watching him come closer.
Her heart was racing.
No, more than that. She felt so nervous she almost wanted to turn and run.
With every step Oikawa took toward her, that urge only grew stronger. It made her realize she wasn't nearly as bold in real life as she was online.
'Should I run? Do I run? Ah… too late now.'
Looking at his face up close—
The face she'd imagined so many times, pieced together from faint reflections in glass—
None of those imagined versions came close to the real thing.
"Senpai… you're so tall!"
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
The moment she said it, she froze.
Then came the overwhelming regret.
She'd rehearsed this meeting hundreds of times in her head.
"Oikawa-Senpai, we finally meet."
"Senpai, you didn't pretend not to see me this time."
"Senpai, it's nice to meet you."
Anything would've been better than, "Senpai, you're so tall!"
If only time could rewind five seconds. Just five.
"Shouldn't it be 'you're so handsome'?"
Oikawa's earlier stray thoughts vanished completely. He smiled and held out his hand.
"I'm Oikawa Tōru. Nice to finally meet you, even though you never told me your real name."
The tension in Utaha's chest melted away.
She placed her hand in his without hesitation.
"Senpai, it's nice to meet you."
"My name is Utaha Kasumigaoka."
Utaha Kasumigaoka?
The moment he heard it, something clicked hard in Oikawa's mind.
That's why she looked so familiar.
Why had Utako Kasumi always felt oddly familiar to him.
Because "Utako Kasumi" wasn't just a pen name, it was kinda her name.
Everything suddenly made sense.
"Senpai… even if you're trying to take advantage, don't you think you're being a bit too eager?"
Utaha glanced at their hands. They'd been holding on for nearly a full minute. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks, and even her voice trembled slightly.
"I'll report you for harassment, you know. Do you really want headlines like 'famous author arrested for indecent behavior'?"
Her words sounded like a threat, but her face was still lit with a soft smile.
Damn.
Even like this, Oikawa found her ridiculously cute.
Was this the power of contrast?
"Here. A gift for meeting in person."
"A signed copy of Your Lie in April, with a personal message."
Oikawa finally let go of her hand and handed over the prepared book.
"What a coincidence. I brought you the same kind of gift."
Utaha took out her own novel, Koisuru Metronome, the one that had won her the Silver Prize.
"Looks like we're pretty in sync."
They exchanged smiles and swapped their gifts.
When Utaha opened the book, she saw his signature on the title page, along with a handwritten note. {"A single encounter, gentle as golden winds and pure as jade dew, makes all other meetings pale in comparison."}
A smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.
She snuck a glance at Oikawa, then quickly lowered her head again.
People always tend to idealize someone they've never met.
The first time she'd talked to him, Utaha had been full of irritation. She thought he was arrogant, an overconfident nobody who insisted on arguing with her.
But as they kept talking…
She slowly realized he wasn't nearly as annoying as she'd imagined.
In fact, she'd learned a lot of writing techniques from him. And he never held anything back. Whether it was her or someone in their group chat asking about writing, he always answered in full, without reservation.
Little by little…
As their conversations grew deeper, she found herself more and more interested in him.
To Utaha, Oikawa was… strange.
Sometimes he was lively and unpredictable. Other times, oddly reserved.
But one thing was certain.
He was absolutely a pervert.
In the group chat, he made the most risqué jokes.
He'd toned it down a bit after winning the Dengeki Bunko prize, but when it came to chatting with her, his true nature still slipped through.
Utaha had assumed that meeting him in person would be disappointing.
The real Oikawa couldn't possibly live up to the version she'd built in her head.
At least, that's what she'd believed. Completely.
But now…
It seemed like the version in her imagination wasn't as perfect as she'd thought.
…
"A single encounter, gentle as golden winds and pure as jade dew, makes all other meetings pale in comparison.…"
Utaha murmured softly, hugging the copy of Your Lie in April to her chest like it was something precious.
This time, she raised her head openly and looked at Oikawa.
But when her gaze fell on her own book, Koisuru Metronome, she suddenly felt a trace of embarrassment.
Her inscription read:" Isn't all of beauty really just a mirror of yourself?"
It was adapted from a line in No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai: "Isn't all of humanity really just a mirror of yourself?"
She had altered it slightly.
But… it felt a little cliché.
Compared to his line, hers seemed almost plain.
Not just a little worse.
Much worse.
"I like it."
Oikawa closed the book and looked at her seriously.
Utaha's voice dropped. "But it's not that good. It even feels kind of cliché."
"It doesn't have to be amazing. If it's something you gave me, then as long as I like it, that's enough."
Utaha tilted her head up slightly.
In his eyes, she saw something bright, like sunlight at noon.
.
.
.