III. The Hologram in the Deep Abyss
"Is your stomach a black hole or something?"
It was a peaceful dinner time. While Yoko-san’s delicious home-cooked meal was laid out on the table, Shoji, sitting next to me, was reaching for his fifth serving of white rice.
"No, I mean, it’s stewed hamburgers. I could easily eat seven servings, right?"
"What? You’re planning to go back for two more?"
I don’t know the exact amount since my mother handles the boarding fees, but this place covers three meals with a fixed rate that includes electricity, water, and heating costs. It seems pretty reasonable—apparently, other places charge extra for every little thing. Just as I was about to tell him to hold back a bit despite his hunger, Yoko-san chimed in, "We have unlimited refills here, so it’s fine. There’s still plenty of stewed hamburgers left." Naturally, Shoji responded with an enthusiastic "Thanks for the meal!" and helped himself to more hamburgers. I’m grateful for the generosity, but I can’t help worrying if this might lead to financial trouble for them.
After stuffing himself full, Shoji took the first shower and fell asleep like a log. He must’ve been exhausted from club activities. Relieved that the night would be quiet, I reached to set my alarm clock before I forgot.
"…Huh?"
The clock, which had been working this morning, had stopped at around four in the afternoon. Now that I think about it, I vaguely recall Yoko-san mentioning when she lent it to me that the battery wasn’t new and might not last long.
I stepped out of my room and noticed the living room light was still on. Peeking in, I saw Yoko-san still there.
"Excuse me, the alarm clock you lent me the other day…"
My words trailed off mid-sentence. Yoko-san was looking through discount flyers. Maybe the food budget really is tight.
"Hm? What’s wrong, Towa-kun?"
I’d been about to ask if she had any batteries since the alarm clock stopped, but I suddenly realized how shameless that sounded. I’m already grateful she lent me the clock—how could I even think of asking for batteries too?
"Uh, I’m going to the convenience store."
There’s a rule that we have to let Yoko-san know if we’re heading out at night.
"Oh, Runa just went there. We were out of milk for tomorrow’s breakfast, and she offered to pick some up. She probably hasn’t arrived yet—should I call her and ask her to grab something for you too?"
"No, I’ll go myself."
"Alright then. Be careful."
Though there’s no strict time limit, I hurried outside. It was my first time breathing the night air since returning to this town. Maybe because it’s far from residential areas, I could hear insects chirping, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. The streets gave off a different vibe from daytime as I walked along, the temperature neither hot nor cold—just pleasant.
With the clear weather during the day, I figured I’d be able to spot the Big Dipper and the seven stars high in the northern sky, or maybe the orange glow of Arcturus in Boötes or the white shine of Spica, the first-magnitude star in Virgo. But when I looked up, not a single star was visible. It seems the saying about this being a town where stars can’t be seen was true.
…Clack, clack, clack. I heard footsteps approaching, clearly different from mine. Under the dim streetlight, a single figure came into view: a oversized pink T-shirt paired with matching half-pants. Her shapely legs were obvious, accentuated by ribboned sandals. Even if this area’s safe, walking alone past nine dressed so carelessly and exposing her legs like that—she couldn’t complain if someone attacked her.
"Hey."
"Eek…!!"
Runa jumped noticeably. Then she turned around, looking at me like I was some kind of pervert.
"W-What… geez, you scared me!"
She visibly relaxed once she realized it was me.
"What’s with that outfit?"
"Huh? What’s with it? It’s loungewear."
"Translate ‘loungewear’ into Japanese."
"What? Uh, clothes you wear indoors?"
"Exactly. So why are you wearing it outside?"
Up close, the fabric looked thin, and whether it was intentional or just the design, the right shoulder of her T-shirt had slipped down.
"It’s not a big deal! Why do I have to hear this from you?"
She had a point, so I shut my mouth.
"Anyway, what are you doing out here?"
"I’ve got business at the convenience store too."
"Then either go ahead or follow behind."
"Not this again. Neither option works this time. I rushed to catch up for a reason."
"What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t get it."
"You don’t have to," I said, ignoring her protests and walking beside her. I wasn’t about to tell her I’d followed because it seemed dangerous. She’d probably just brush it off with an "Oh, whatever," and honestly, it was just my own unnecessary worry.
We spent five minutes at the convenience store. After grabbing what we needed, we headed back the way we came. Maybe Runa had given up on arguing, because she was oddly quiet on the return trip, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with me without complaint.
"Huh, was there a park here?"
Catching my eye as we passed was a sign reading "Oboro Park." The spacious, well-maintained grounds had swings, monkey bars, and a sandbox.
"This park was built after you moved away."
"Hmm… What’s that?"
Deeper inside was what looked like an artificial hill. Perhaps it was a large multi-play structure—stairs, a slide, ropes, and rocks surrounded it, all things kids would love.
"It’s an observation platform. See the triangular roof up top?"
"Oh, you mean that gazebo-like thing?"
"It used to serve as a lookout point for stargazing. Though now, even if you climb up, all you’ll see is the factory nightscape."
I’d heard that the ever-active factories had been cleverly repurposed, drawing visitors from other prefectures to enjoy the industrial night view.
"You haven’t seen it yet?"
"Well, tonight’s my first time coming out here at night."
Runa fell silent, her face turning pensive. Once she’d gathered her thoughts, she started walking off on her own.
"Come with me for a sec."
"Huh? W-Where are we going…?"
Without explaining, she led the way, and I followed. She stopped in front of a building along the coast. It stood about thirteen meters tall, its skeletal frame uncovered by outer walls. Looking up, I could see a platform-like stage at the very top.
"This is…"
"It’s an evacuation tower for disasters."
The structure had stairs leading up from two sides. Without a word, Runa stepped onto the first step of the left staircase.
"You take the other side. Just climbing’s boring, so let’s race."
"Wait, huh?"
"Ready—"
"Hold on, hold on—"
"Go!!"
Ignoring me, Runa bolted up the stairs. The clanging of her sandals echoed as I scrambled to keep up. After climbing sixteen steps five times, I reached the top, panting embarrassingly hard.
"Yep, I win. How about a penalty—diving into the sea from here?"
"Haa… Don’t be stupid. This is like five stories high. You’d either die or get hurt."
"Yeah, true. I’d never do it either—I’m too scared."
Unlike me, whose physical fitness test results were abysmal, Runa apparently did well, so while her breathing was heavy, it wasn’t ragged.
"The sea breeze is chilly no matter the season, huh?"
On the platform were about twenty cube-shaped objects. I’d thought they were chairs, but Runa opened one like she was used to it. It turned out to be a supply box, and she pulled out a blanket to drape over herself.
"Is it okay to just use this stuff or climb up here?"
"Probably not. But this is my favorite spot. Look."
She moved to the edge of the platform and gripped the railing. Following where she pointed, I saw a dazzling factory nightscape unfold before me.
Smoke spiraled upward from chimneys, and the massive steel tower of a paper mill loomed like a fearsome dragon. The refinery’s lights shone with an otherworldly brilliance, their reflections shimmering on the water alongside the swaying shadows of tanks. Red, orange, green, purple, yellow—the colors, so different from typical city lights, dazzled my eyes. It felt less like a fantasy and more like a scene from a near-futuristic world.
"Whoa…"
No wonder they call it a factory nightscape and people come from other prefectures to see it. It was twice—no, three times—more impressive than I’d imagined.
"It’s pretty, but it definitely feels like man-made light, doesn’t it?"
Runa’s hair fluttered in the wind. The glow of the nightscape faintly illuminated her face, and her melancholic expression looked strangely mature.
"…Why’d you bring me to your favorite spot?"
If she just wanted to show me the factory nightscape, the park earlier would’ve sufficed.
"You hate me, don’t you?"
She’d never said it outright, but her attitude made it clear. Runa neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, she gazed at the nightscape with those sad eyes again.
"…Hey, do you think the Grim Reaper exists?"
"What’s with that all of a sudden?"
"Well, doesn’t that smoke from the chimney kinda look like a scythe?"
"Hmm, does it?"
I tilted my head, brushing it off, but she pressed on, "I’m asking if it exists or not."
"I think there might be something like a god out there, so I can’t say for sure the Grim Reaper doesn’t exist either."
"They say the Grim Reaper leads people to death, right? Meeting something like that would be terrifying—most people would freak out."
Was she saying that to me, or just talking to herself? The dry smile on her face looked forced.
"Why’re you bringing this up?"
I couldn’t grasp her intentions at all. Then, she turned her whole body toward me, her gaze shifting from the nightscape to lock onto mine.
She stared at me head-on, not bothering to brush the hair falling over her face.
"I didn’t want to see you, Towa."
My heart jolted.
Her calling me by my name so formally had always grated on me—I’d hoped she’d call me by my first name like she used to. But the "Towa" she uttered was so frail, and her words stung.
"If I’d known ten years ago that you’d come back, I would’ve begged my mom not to let you board here, no matter what. If I’d realized sooner we’d be at the same school, I would’ve absolutely taken the entrance exam for a different high school."
Despite her sharp tone, she clenched her fists weakly.
"Don’t come near me. Don’t let me hear your voice. Don’t show me your face. Don’t call my name."
Her desperate words came one after another. Why was she saying all this? I clenched my fists too.
"Sorry, but no."
Being avoided for no reason pisses me off, and I can’t accept it. But I didn’t feel like yelling at her.
"I don’t get you at all right now, Runa. The fake smiles you plaster on at school, how you’re always helping out at home, the fact that you can call me by my name but won’t—none of it makes sense to me."
But I don’t think any of it’s meaningless. There’s got to be a reason behind her words and actions. Or at least, I want to believe there is.
"Runa, are you hiding something?"
As I asked, the blanket she was wearing fluttered in the wind. For a moment, it looked like the Grim Reaper’s cloak she’d mentioned.
"Hiding something? …Of course not!"
After raising her voice, Runa threw the blanket at me. While I was distracted pulling it off my head, I heard her sandals clacking again. By the time I yanked it off and looked, she was already racing down the stairs.
"Hey, don’t run off…!"
I leaned over the railing to peer down. Before I could chase her, she’d reached the ground in no time.
"I hate you from the bottom of my heart, Tsuzumi-kun! So I’ll never call you by your name, and I’ll never show you my true feelings—especially not you…!!"
What was she yelling about? I scratched my cheek, flustered. Leaving me behind, she started walking away. After a couple of steps, she looked up at me again.
"But just one thing! Thanks for worrying and coming to the convenience store with me."
With that, she ran off. I let out a deep sigh and leaned against the railing.
"What was that about?"
It felt like she’d seen right through me from the start.
…Oh, I get it. That’s why Runa brought me to her favorite spot—as a thank-you.
She’s honest yet dishonest, and I can’t figure her out.
But if she’s going to run, I want to chase her until I can see the true feelings buried deep inside her. Something brighter than the factory nightscape seemed to sparkle within me.
Runa had always been timid. The strongest memory I have of her is, without a doubt, her sobbing.
"Ugh…"
I don’t know who said what to her, but today, too, Runa was shedding big tears.
"How long are you gonna cry?"
"But everyone’s precious Usakichi got sick…"
"Didn’t the teacher say they couldn’t find anything wrong with it?"
"But it was all limp and cold. It’s my fault. Because of me… Waaah!"
Runa started bawling again, like a waterfall. Her handkerchief was already dirty from earlier, so I wiped her tears with the sleeve of my preschool uniform.
"It’s not like Usakichi lost its energy because of you."
"But even the goldfish we had before—right after I became its caretaker…"
"That was because someone put bread crumbs from lunch in the tank. It wasn’t your fault, Runa."
"Maybe, but…"
She didn’t look convinced and sniffled again. The preschool kept animals for life lessons, and caretaking was done on rotation. For some reason, though, the creatures Runa doted on tended to weaken over time. Not all of them—Usakichi’s decline was unexplained, and it’s at the vet now, but the female Usako we had before lived out its year-long term and is still thriving with its owner.
I think the goldfish and Usakichi just had bad luck pile up, but the other kids overreacted, saying, "When Runa-chan gets close, they all die!" No matter how much I told her not to worry, she felt the most responsible.
"…When I start liking something, it ends up unhappy…"
As Runa’s eyes welled up again, I was struggling to find the right words when someone gently patted her head, saying, "That’s not true."
It was Nakata-sensei, our teacher for the "Suzuran Group." A male teacher popular even with parents, he always looked out for Runa, who was starting to drift from the class.
"Teacher…!"
Her sobbing stopped as if it’d been a lie, and a smile returned to her face. She was really attached to Nakata-sensei—napping next to him, holding his hand without me noticing. I didn’t like that much.
"Come on, it’s snack time. Let’s go, Towa-kun."
We’d been talking at the edge of the classroom and were ushered back to our seats. The clock was nearing five.
"Getting snacks twice is so nice, huh?"
While Runa cheered up, I sulked.
"Do you like Nakata-sensei or something?"
"Yeah, I like him. He’s super nice to me."
"Huh, I see."
I pouted and stuffed a cookie in my mouth. At this hour, only a few kids, including us, were left in the class. We could play freely until pickup, and after quickly eating her snack, Runa started drawing with crayons again.
"This is your face, Towa."
"It sucks."
"That’s mean!"
But her first drawing had been of Nakata-sensei. Why was I second? It left me feeling complicated again.
"Are you reading that book again, Towa?"
I’d spread a book of Greek mythology on the table. During extended care, we could bring our favorite books, and this was always mine.
"Yeah. It’s easy to understand and fun."
"Then show me too."
"Sure. How about this one?"
"‘The Sad Love Story of Orion and Artemis’?"
The tale of two lovers who could never be together was bittersweet, but Runa seemed to like it, rereading the page multiple times.
"Orion and Artemis were in love, huh? Are ‘like’ and ‘love’ the same thing?"
"So, are you in love with Nakata-sensei or what?"
"…I like him, but I don’t know. I liked the goldfish and Usakichi too."
She dropped her gaze, dejected again. I sighed.
"You’re a moon goddess, so brighten up a bit."
"Huh? Why am I a moon goddess?"
"I’m not telling you."
"Ugh, you’re so stingy, Towa!"
She got mad but laughed anyway.
Two weeks later, though, something cast a shadow over her eyes again.
"―Nakata-sensei will be taking a break due to illness."
In the end, he never returned to the preschool.
After-school astronomy club. Today, unusually, the old teacher was here.
"Here’s a question: How many constellations are there in total?"
"Uh, about forty?"
"Sorry! The answer is eighty-eight. By the way, constellations are counted with ‘Za (座),’ star clusters with ‘Gun (群),’ and ‘Ko (個)’ is for individual celestial stars."
(Tl/n - 座 = constellation/zodiac sign, 群 = Group, 個 = individual count)
"Oh, I see!"
I listened to the exchange between the old teacher and Runa with a detached feeling. I’d come to the clubroom to lie on the couch that ruins people and read manga. Yet here I was, lined up on a pipe chair, staring at a whiteboard.
"I didn’t come here for a lecture."
My buzzkill comment earned me a hard stomp under the table from Runa.
"Ow! What the hell?"
She ignored me and looked away. Probably thinking, "Why are you even here?" I’d gotten Yoko-san to sign me up for the astronomy club, planning to be a ghost member, but I kept showing up to read manga.
"Are you bored? No, see, I teach geology to third-years, but since there’s no astronomy in the curriculum, I want to spark interest. I just don’t get many chances to talk about it."
"I want to hear more!"
"Really? Oh, I forgot to mention—comets, since they have tails, are counted with ‘Hon (本)’ or ‘suji (筋).’ I saw Halley’s Comet once. It approaches Earth every seventy-five-point-three years. The next time will be the summer of 2061!"
"Wow, that far off? How old will I be?"
While Runa counted her age on her fingers, I fiddled with my nails, uninterested.
The old teacher’s pseudo-lesson ended twenty minutes before club time was up. He was so thrilled to talk about astronomy that he promised to bring a sample question set from the "Starry Sky Universe Astronomy Test" next time and left for the staff room, all fired up. Seriously, give me a break.
"…Ugh, at this rate, we’ll be forced to take that astronomy test."
I stood from the chair and stretched. Runa was diligently copying the old teacher’s notes from the board.
"Are you listening to me?"
She avoided my eyes as usual, but today she was treating me like I was air even more than normal.
"Didn’t I say not to let me hear your voice?"
"And didn’t I say no to that?"
"Why do you even come to club if you’re not motivated?"
"I never said I wasn’t motivated."
"Stop acting like a kid."
"Right back at you."
Runa was dumbfounded by my calm demeanor. She wouldn’t listen no matter what I said, so I decided not to listen to anything I didn’t like either.
Opening manga now would obviously get me told to leave, so I reached for the bookshelf instead. Amid the astronomy books, I found a file.
"…Astronomy club activity records?"
I read the label aloud.
It seems the club was fairly active five years ago when stars were still visible—going on trips to see the Leo meteor shower or showcasing a handmade planetarium at the culture festival. "Huh," I muttered, flipping through the records in their clear pockets. Feeling eyes on me, I saw Runa watching enviously.
"Hey, let me see too."
Since the file was on the top shelf, she hadn’t noticed it.
"Oh, they held observation sessions on the roof. Let’s see—‘Roof access is a special privilege of the astronomy club,’ it says."
I deliberately said something to pique her curiosity, and she snapped, "I said let me see!" and came closer, trying to grab it. I held it up high.
"Didn’t you say not to come near you?"
I mimicked her earlier words, nitpicking.
"I didn’t come near you—I came near the file."
"Semantics."
"Huh? What did you just…"
"Here."
I plopped the file on her head. She didn’t suggest looking at it together and stood there, engrossed in the records.
"Speaking of which, our families went stargazing together once, right?"
I think it was at a campsite in the next prefecture.
"You were there too?"
"You wouldn’t leave my side because you were scared of bugs."
"I don’t recall that."
"Want me to recount everything I remember?"
"No thanks. Not necessary."
"Fine."
Nothing I said got through to her. Feeling frustrated, I moved to the window and spotted a golden celestial globe. A sphere sat at the center of interlocking rings, pierced by an arrow and feather.
…An arrow. My mind drifted to the Greek myth of Orion and Artemis. I wondered if Runa remembered that story we’d read so much the pages wore thin back then.
"Hey—"
I turned to ask her, but at that moment, the clubroom door burst open.
"Oh, there you are, Serizawa-san!"
"Huh? Uh, Harada-kun…?"
I didn’t know this guy called Harada since he’s in a different class, but I vaguely recalled hearing his name in a classroom conversation on the first day. He’s probably Runa’s friend.
"I messaged you about walking home together today—did you see it?"
My eyebrow twitched at his words.
"Sorry, I didn’t check. But we’re still in the middle of club…"
As Runa spoke, the chime signaling the end of club activities rang perfectly on cue. She’s harsh with me, but she seemed hesitant with Harada.
"I was hoping we could talk, just the two of us, for the first time in a while. Or do you already have plans to walk home with someone?"
His question made Runa’s eyes meet mine. She looked troubled, but her gaze quickly darted away.
"No, I don’t have plans with anyone, so it’s fine."
With that, she packed her things and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Let’s go," she said, letting Harada escort her out of the clubroom. The door slammed shut, and once she was out of sight, I spun the celestial globe hard in frustration.
"…Damn it. What was that?"
Even without saying it aloud, I knew Runa had blatantly weighed me against Harada.
And she chose to leave with him over asking me for help.
"Ugh, so annoying."
On the way home from school, I kicked a round stone Runa would’ve likely picked up. I just want to know why she’s avoiding me—who she hangs out with shouldn’t matter to me. But the haze in my chest kept growing.
"Tsuzumi-kun?"
Hearing my name, I turned to see Sasano. I’d never talked to her one-on-one, but since she’s close to Runa, I knew she had a surprisingly laid-back side. Thinking she might know something about Harada, I probed indirectly.
"Oh, Runa and Harada-kun went to the same elementary and middle schools, it seems. He’s in my class now—bright and a good guy."
Well, someone bold enough to barge into the clubroom over an unanswered message probably stands out in their group.
"He apparently confessed to Runa in middle school."
"Huh? She told you that?"
"No, Harada-kun said it himself. And he was telling friends he still hasn’t given up."
So he got rejected once but is still pursuing her, huh?
"If you wrap rejection too softly to spare feelings, it can backfire and light a fire in guys, you know?"
"…Yeah, I can’t deny that."
I mean, I keep talking to Runa despite her pushing me away.
"Pushing your feelings on someone isn’t good."
"No, I didn’t mean it like—"
"I’m talking about him, not you, Tsuzumi-kun."
Following Sasano’s gaze, I saw Runa and Harada chatting at the bottom of the hill leading to the boarding house. Harada was talking a mile a minute, but Runa just nodded politely, keeping it neutral.
"Should I go rescue her?"
At Sasano’s question, I clenched my fists. She chose to leave with Harada herself. If she did that knowing he likes her, I’ve got no obligation to help.
But even so…
"Runa, let’s go home."
Before I knew it, I’d run over and grabbed her hand.
"Huh? W-Wait a sec…"
Ignoring her confusion, I pulled her along forcefully. I couldn’t stand seeing her with another guy. Harada’s stunned face flashed in my peripheral vision. I worried he might pull her back, but Sasano smoothly stepped in to cover for me.
"What the hell…!"
At the boarding house entrance, Runa shook off my hand. I hadn’t gripped that hard, but she kept rubbing her wrist.
"You looked tense while talking to him."
Harada didn’t notice her strained expression and kept chatting happily—whoever coined "love is blind" was a genius.
"So what? I didn’t need your help. And calling me by my name in front of Harada-kun—what if he gets the wrong idea?"
"You mean you don’t want Harada to misunderstand?"
"No, that’s not it. I just…"
"Just what?"
"…Anyway! Calling me Runa means a penalty!"
There it was—her go-to move. Seems I’d built up some resistance, because I didn’t brush it off this time.
"Fine. Keep a tally of all of them somewhere. Once they pile up, I’ll do whatever you say."
I kept a cool face and opened the front door.
"What’s that supposed to mean? You sound so smug…!"
Runa yapped behind me, but I ignored her and took off my shoes. Let her say whatever. I went to my room and pressed a hand to my chest. This smoldering feeling was familiar—jealousy, just like when I was a kid.
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