Noon.
In the Kasumigaoka household, the room with the family nameplate hanging outside the door remained immersed in a quiet, dim gloom.
Draft papers covered in messy handwriting were scattered across the floor. The faint glow of a laptop screen illuminated a document simply titled 「Volume 4」.
Tick... tock... tick... tock...
Obediently sitting on the nightstand, the alarm clock quietly ticked away the time to the bundled blanket on the bed.
Tick... tock... tick... tock...
The moment the second hand took its first step, the blanket suddenly shifted.
Then, a bare, fair, and slender arm slipped out, grabbing the offending clock and pulling it under the covers.
A few seconds later, the rolled-up blanket wriggled a few times, followed by a sleepy, languid voice drifting out.
"Mmm... it's already past noon..."
Rustle...
"So sleepy..." Reluctantly kicking off the covers, Utaha sat up, her hair a messy bird's nest. Her wine-red eyes, scanning the room, were still heavy with an inescapable drowsiness.
Last night, she'd lost track of time chatting with Machida Sonoko about the new book until 11 or 12 PM.
Originally, after checking the time, she'd planned to just sleep.
But the moment she lay down, ready to turn off the light, the excitement from their conversation kept her mind racing with images and ideas.
Eventually, unable to sleep despite her exhaustion, Utaha had gotten back up, plopped into her computer chair, opened a document, and started typing furiously.
Thus, the girl who'd planned to sleep at midnight ended up writing until 2 or 3 AM. Barely two seconds after hitting the bed, she was out cold, sleeping straight through till past 1 PM.
Lazily dragging her legs, feet unsteady on the plush carpet.
Rubbing her eyes with one hand, adjusting the slipped strap of her camisole nightgown with the other, Utaha shuffled into the attached washroom.
Unlike a certain online singer who rented a two-story detached house,
Utaha, also studying alone in Tokyo and supporting herself, lived in a standard "one-room, one-bath with kitchenette" studio apartment.
Calling it a "kitchen" was generous—it was really just a small nook in the hallway between the genkan and the main room, equipped with a single-burner induction cooktop and a small sink. The fridge had to squeeze in next to the washer and dryer.
But for a high school girl who couldn't cook and survived on takeout and convenience store food, it was more than enough.
After a quick wash and a shower, Utaha walked out, towel-drying her hair.
I'm kinda hungry.
Wondering what to eat, she opened the fridge.
Inside, aside from a few bags of dry sliced bread, there was only coffee.
The corners of her mouth dipped in disappointment, but she still pulled out the cold, dry bread.
Shuffling back to her room, she yanked the curtains open. The sudden bright sunlight made her squint.
Tossing the bread onto the small central table, she plopped down on the carpet.
Gritting her teeth, she tore open the packaging, then held her phone in one hand, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, while taking slow, absentminded bites with the other.
Plain toast, without anything on it, was inherently dry.
Coupled with the fact that she hadn't even had a sip of water since waking up, her throat grew drier with every bite.
Midway through eating, she suddenly set her phone down and instinctively reached out to the empty space beside her.
"Hmm?"
Not feeling the familiar weight, Utaha blinked, confused, and turned her gaze toward her outstretched hand.
Landing on the empty spot, a flicker of confusion and bewilderment crossed her wine-red eyes.
The next second.
"Oh, right. It's not lunch break at school anymore."
After muttering that, she quietly withdrew her hand, a trace of loneliness coloring her expression as she stood up from the carpet.
Walking to the fridge, she grabbed a can of coffee, then returned to her room in silence.
When did I get so used to your presence?
Accompanied by the cold coffee,
Utaha forced down the tasteless toast to fill her stomach.
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, she glanced at the laptop on the table, then quickly looked away.
Tilting her head back, she stared at the stark white ceiling.
Suddenly, she spoke aloud.
"Strawberry milk really is better."
Her neck feeling tired from holding the pose, she lowered her head, her gaze falling on the toast wrapper on the table.
Yeah, not buying this brand next time.
The pastry bread he likes is much better.
Unconsciously recalling a certain classmate who always had melon pan for lunch, the corners of Utaha's mouth lifted slightly.
Come to think of it, she'd initially wondered, "Doesn't he get tired of eating the same bread every day?"
But after she tried buying melon pan for lunch once, she finally understood why he didn't.
Maybe it's just because I like it.
"The weather's so nice."
Glancing at the blue sky outside, she stood and slowly walked to the glass balcony door.
Raising her right hand, palm pressing lightly against the cool glass, she smiled softly at her own reflection.
"You always say it's bad for me to stay cooped up at home. Fine, I'll listen to you this time."
"Where should I go? Hmm, Yoyogi Park it is."
After all.
You told me before that you really like the scenery this time of year.
I want to see the scenery you like too... right, Aragaki-kun?
.....
Humming softly, dressed in a light blue camisole dress and a sheer white cardigan, Utaha walked lightly along the park path.
A gentle breeze brushed her flawless cheeks. Unconsciously smiling, she reached up to gently hold back a stray strand of hair dancing by her ear.
Tilting her face slightly, she watched the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves.
'The scenery really is beautiful right now, Aragaki-kun.'
Letting out a soft, accidental chuckle, she lowered her gaze and resumed her light steps, heading toward the nearby lakeside observation deck.
Just a few steps later,
a wave of playful laughter, carrying a very familiar voice, drifted into her ears.
Instinctively looking up, the next second, a familiar figure crashed into her wine-red eyes.
"That's..."
A hint of joy she hadn't even noticed herself blooming on her features, Utaha murmured,
"Aragaki... kun?"
So, Aragaki-kun came here too. Just like me.
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