IV. A Universe for Just the Two of Us
"Sorry, but can you let her go?"
A broad back appeared in my vision. Stepping between us protectively, he made Harada-kun release me naturally.
Why did you follow me?
Seeing Towa’s back tightened my chest.
"Oh, you’re that guy from before… You called her by name then, right? Are you two dating?"
Towa faced Harada-kun’s question.
"Would you back off if I were?"
"If you’re her boyfriend, yeah."
"I’m Runa’s—"
"He’s not my boyfriend…!!"
I cut him off. Towa isn’t my boyfriend. If this caused a misunderstanding, his name would spread at school, disrupting my peace. But I also wanted to avoid Harada-kun’s persistence.
"If I had a boyfriend… it’d be someone else."
I shocked myself with my own words.
"Huh?"
Harada-kun and Towa’s voices overlapped perfectly.
That night, an emergency meeting was held over my statement.
"No, no, I’m honored to be named!"
Shoji-kun sat cross-legged, laughing heartily.
"…I’m really sorry."
I couldn’t lift my face from shame. Cornered, with Harada-kun pressing "Who? Who?" I’d blurted out Shoji-kun as my boyfriend. Now, I was in his room apologizing, with Kaho and Towa present.
"It was spur-of-the-moment, but why’d you pick Shoji-kun, Runa?"
Kaho’s question made me falter. "Well…" He came to mind as a nearby guy, but the real reason was my "like" filter. I’d never like Shoji-kun romantically—I’m certain he’s just a friend.
"So, what now?"
Towa sat with his arms crossed, visibly grumpy.
"Hmm. I don’t mind pretending to be her boyfriend until Harada gives up—if Runa-chan’s okay with it."
Despite dragging him into this, Shoji-kun didn’t complain. I felt awful, but retracting the lie might mean daily invites from Harada-kun.
"…Please, just for a while."
I bowed from my kneeling position, and Shoji-kun cheerfully agreed, "Leave it to me!"
Overcome with self-loathing, I stepped into the courtyard. Covered in grass safe for bare feet, it had a glass sunroof for light and benches for anyone to relax. I slumped onto one.
…Ugh, I’m such an idiot.
Why did I say I had a boyfriend? I panicked when Towa was mistaken for him—my judgment clouded because of it.
"I forgot to give you this."
Towa’s voice came from above as I sat with my head down. He held an origami star I’d folded. I realized I’d lost it from my pocket—probably during cleaning.
Placed in my palm, it sparkled more than in daylight. My obsession with stars stemmed from my condition.
Stars have no gender, so no matter how much I care, I can’t take their lifespan. Redirecting my budding "likes" to stars has calmed me.
"If it’s a lie anyway, wouldn’t I have worked?"
Towa muttered. True, claiming him as my boyfriend might’ve been smoother than naming Shoji-kun. But even as a lie, I couldn’t say it.
"…You as my boyfriend? No way."
"Why not?"
"Don’t make me repeat it. You’re a red flag to me."
Others might be fine, but Towa is different. It’s not his fault—it’s my heart’s issue.
"Then why do you like stars so much now? Isn’t it because I… taught you?"
"No way. I’ve forgotten everything you taught me."
I forced a loud, fake laugh. Every lesson from him is etched in my mind—I’ve never forgotten a moment.
"…What about that?"
"That?"
"Do you remember what I did when we parted?"
—"It’s okay. We’ll definitely meet again. I’m Orion, after all."
He’d said that, giving me something invisible. I thought he’d forgotten, but he remembered. I’m happy, but I can’t let myself be drawn in. I don’t want to kill anyone else because of me.
"Hey, haven’t you clung to the past too much? It’s been ten years."
Please, Towa, think I’m awful.
"I’ve grown up too, and we were only close for, what, two or three years?"
If possible, let me fade from your memory.
"Those old memories? They make me laugh now—or rather, they’re a hassle."
Please, stop chasing me.
Towa listened silently to my barrage of words. The brief silence hurt, and I gripped the star in my hand.
"…Got it."
With that short reply, he left the courtyard.
Relieved it was over, regret blurred my vision. Crying here felt unfair, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
Days passed, and the rainy season hit Komaishi. The constant rain deepened my gloom, but I kept up my cheerful facade at school.
"But wow, Runa having a boyfriend—and with him of all people…"
Even chatting with Miyo-chan, it circled back to this. The rumor of me dating Shoji-kun spread like wildfire, apparently via Harada-kun confiding in friends.
"I might get in trouble for saying this, but I thought you’d go for someone more… refreshing."
"Shoji-kun’s a good guy, though."
"Yeah, I get that. It’s just so unexpected."
Miyo-chan says she can’t picture us together. I just wanted Harada-kun to give up, but the rumor’s grown too big, becoming a hassle. Glancing at Towa, I saw him asleep at his desk. We haven’t talked properly since, and he’s stopped coming to club. It hurts, but this is for the best.
I’ve read over a hundred articles and cases on Grim Reaper Syndrome, including foreign ones. Patients are anonymous, their ages unrevealed, but they all suffer like me. Some live isolated, avoiding connection; others exploit the condition, choosing to love women.
Live without liking anyone, or embrace those feelings? Their choices are my future. I can’t decide or see ahead, but I’m certain I never want to repeat this mistake. If my love kills someone precious, I’d rather never have anyone to love.
After club, I returned the key to the staff room and headed to the entrance.
…Still raining. I pulled a star-patterned folding umbrella from my bag.
"Then why do you like stars so much now? Isn’t it because I… taught you?"
I shook my head to dispel his recalled words. Opening the umbrella, I noticed a boy staring at the sky. He’d changed into loafers but wasn’t leaving. My staring made our eyes meet, creating an awkward silence.
"…Where’s your umbrella?"
He had one this morning, but Towa’s hands were empty.
"Dunno. It’s gone."
His curt voice replied. Umbrellas go in class-designated stands—his was a plain vinyl one. Without a marker, someone likely took it by mistake.
I’d said harsh things to him. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I might’ve. I don’t deserve to reach out, yet I couldn’t just pass by.
"Here."
I offered my umbrella. My head screamed to stay away, but my heart wouldn’t listen.
"What?"
"Take mine."
"What about you?"
"I’ll… be fine."
Maybe the rain will stop, or if it lightens, I could run…
"Don’t mess with me."
His low voice cut through. My inconsistency—pushing him away then reaching out—might’ve annoyed him. I wished I could play it off coolly, but my face probably looked pathetic. He sighed deeply.
"You’re thinking something dumb like running home, right? What if you catch a cold?"
I gripped the umbrella tighter.
He wasn’t mad at my selfishness.
He was worried about me again.
Kind, warm—I want to hate him, but I can’t.
"If your uniform gets wet, it’s a hassle, same as me. So… I’ll take the umbrella. But we’ll share."
He took it from my hand.
"You shouldn’t have spoken up if you were just gonna ignore me. Too bad—I don’t care if you hate it. We’re going home together."
He urged me under, and I stepped in. It’s my umbrella, yet my heart pounded like it’d leap out.
"…You’re not mad?"
Our footprints marked the muddy ground.
"I was. But I realized I’m not good at staying mad."
The rain sounded distant—oh, because he’s holding the umbrella.
"You can stay mad, but I’m making up on my own."
He squinted with a smile. Our shoulders brushed as we walked. Pain, longing, and anguish mixed as I watched raindrops hit the star-patterned umbrella. They sparkled under the streetlights, like a tiny universe just for us.
High school, which I’d hyped up, was surprisingly smooth. I might not have close friends in class, but I don’t stand out and feel like I fit in. Midterms started recently, and today was day three. During testing, we can leave after finishing, and clubs are off. It’s meant for studying, but I was casually at a fast-food place near the station.
"Math stumped me completely—am I screwed?"
Shoji, finishing a double burger in seconds, dug into his second without slowing.
"You’ve got baseball, so you’ll be fine. Though failing means repeating a year."
"Crap… Mom and Dad’ll kill me!"
Shoji’s a ball of positivity, but he’s clearly scared of his parents’ wrath.
"How big’s your family, Shoji?"
"Me, Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, two younger sisters, and two dogs."
"Sounds lively."
"It is. That’s why I’m loud too. What about you, Tsuzumin?"
"Just me and Mom, basically. Dad’s… maybe on the other side of the planet. I don’t know."
"Whoa! Is your dad, like, some big shot?"
I slurped my drink through a straw instead of answering.
Even though I was a shut-in mess, I sometimes wonder if leaving Mom alone was okay. But she’s been lunching with neighbors and hitting art galleries often, unfazed. I blamed Dad’s absence for everything, but maybe I was the one holding her back.
After lunch, we stepped outside—still raining. I don’t mind rain, but Shoji groaned about the muddy field, his mind all baseball.
"Oh, you two haven’t gone home yet?"
Turning, I saw Sasano exiting the convenience store.
"Kaho, sorry for dragging you along!"
Runa emerged after paying, her transparent bag showing rice balls—or something oddly heavy.
"What’d you buy?"
"Tea bottles."
"So many?"
Five identical teas filled the bag. She snapped, "It’s for me, so it’s fine!" but Sasano explained.
"Apparently, they come with zodiac straps for a limited time."
"Kaho, stop!"
"They’re blind packs. She’s almost collected them all, but the one she wants won’t drop, right?"
"You didn’t have to say that…"
Kaho bought one to help, she said. Shoji dashed into the store, saying, "Me too!" leaving me behind.
"So, which zodiac do you want?"
Walking in pairs, I ended up with Runa behind Shoji and Sasano.
"Not telling."
"If it’s that important, check a flea market."
"That’s no fun!"
Déjà vu—I’ve heard this before. Since I unilaterally made up, Runa’s been talking to me normally again, but there’s still a formality she reserves for me. Sharing that umbrella, she felt distant despite being close. Am I pathetic for finding that lonely?
"Runa! Trouble! Move your stuff somewhere else quick!"
Back home, Yoko-san rushed out, phone in hand.
"Mom, what’s wrong?"
"Your room…"
Her distress made us exchange glances. We followed Runa’s hurried steps to her room.
"Whoa…"
Buckets and basins clashed with her cute pink room. Rain dripped from the ceiling, pooling in them with pitiful plops.
"No way, a leak…!?"
Runa panicked, unsure what to do. The ceiling wasn’t punctured, but days of rain might’ve damaged the roof.
"F-First, let’s move stuff that can’t get wet to the hall! Clothes dry fast, but furniture, bedding, school stuff—textbooks, notebooks!"
Kaho took charge as we froze. Yoko-san was on the phone with repairmen, so Shoji and I hauled heavy items like the bed, while the girls prioritized water-sensitive books.
"Hey, it’s dripping over here too!"
"I-I’ll ask Yoko-san for more buckets!"
Amid Shoji and Kaho’s flurry, I lifted a wooden box from her desk. Thin and light, I peeked inside—stones, star-shaped origami, and star-themed trinkets filled it.
"No, don’t look!"
Runa snatched it back, flustered. "Junk box?" I teased, and she snapped, "My treasure chest! You’ve got no tact!"
Her tidy habits paid off—we finished moving stuff in under an hour.
The repair crew arrived fast. A dislodged roof tile caused the leak, they said. After inspection, repairs would start based on the damage. It was minimal, but her room was soaked, unusable for a while. Depending on the weather, fixing it could take time, so she’d stay in a boarding room with us starting today.
"Thanks, everyone. Sorry for the trouble!"
Runa’s temp room was next to Kaho’s, across the courtyard from mine. Boarding rooms come with beds, desks, and shelves, so we moved her non-furniture items in together.
"It’s a humble thank-you, but…" She offered the teas she’d bought. Thirsty, we accepted.
"Mine’s Gemini!"
"I got… Camelopardalis? There’s a giraffe constellation? Cool!"
We checked the straps. Beyond the famous twelve zodiacs, there’s Crow, Dolphin, Lizard, and Dove—observable at different times.
"There are eighty-eight constellations, you know."
Runa boasted her knowledge. The others hyped her up, but I knew it was the old teacher’s trivia. She’d said she’d nearly collected all eighty-eight straps—insane. Her treasure chest did have tons of them.
"What’s yours, Tsuzumi-kun?"
Kaho asked, so I tore open my pack. The silver charm was hourglass-shaped.
"Mine’s… Orion."
Orion the Hunter—connecting the stars around the hourglass, it’s like he’s raising a club in his right hand and holding a lion’s pelt in his left.
"Orion!?"
Runa reacted big.
"Was this the one you wanted?"
"N-No! Orion’s super common—I’ve got tons already! I’d sell it!"
Her forced laugh was an obvious lie, but her stubbornness wouldn’t admit it.
"Oh, Runa, Mom said dinner prep got delayed with all this, so we’re eating out!"
"For real? Out!?"
Shoji jumped at her blatant topic shift.
"She said we’ll vote on what to eat."
"Barbecue! No, sushi! No, eel!"
"Have some restraint," Kaho sighed at Shoji’s suggestions. We ended up at a nearby ramen shop, getting home by eleven. Passing Runa’s room, light leaked from the door gap—studying or unpacking, maybe. It’s my first time sensing her presence this late. It felt odd, like stepping into her life. Silly as it sounds, I couldn’t sleep that night, like a restless teen.
Tests ended, and regular classes resumed. Club activities restarted, athletic shouts echoing through the school. With the rain finally gone, we headed to the roof.
"Let’s observe planets. First, Saturn—the second-largest outer planet in our solar system, known for its rings!"
Runa peered through the telescope as the old teacher explained. The club’s semi-pro telescope offered 20x to 260x magnification with eyepieces.
"Sir! Angle’s perfect, but I see nothing!"
"Expected. Next!"
Their routine made me yawn. In a starless town, even a great telescope can’t catch planets.
We were doing mock observations. After Saturn, he explained Mars, and Runa peeked again. As expected, the astronomy club lacks purpose. Even with roof access, we can’t observe, and no budget means no off-site trips.
"Maybe we’d see the sun!" Runa adjusted the telescope.
"Stop, idiot!"
"Huh? Why?"
"You need a projection plate for the sun, or you’ll go blind."
"R-Really…?"
She’s eager for club, but in this starless town, her enthusiasm feels wasted.
Unfulfilled, we left the roof for the clubroom. As we packed the telescope, the end-of-club chime rang.
"Seeing stars through a telescope sounds fun, but I want to observe with my own eyes…"
Her tone—muttered or aimed at me—was unclear.
"Summer break’s next month. Why not go ourselves?"
"What, just us two?"
"No, with Shoji and Sasano too."
I don’t want to go, but if she insists, I’d consider it. Without me, no one could explain the stars.
"That sounds so fun…!"
Her eyes sparkled, though nothing was set. Then, a voice came through the open window. Peering down, we saw an upperclassman petting a cat in the courtyard.
"So fluffy! Cute!"
A stray, maybe—brown, likely a mix.
"You had a cat too, right? Chachamaru?"
"Chacha. She’s gone—died."
"If I like something, it ends up unhappy."
I recalled her childhood words. Shy but loving, it was pitiful she’d been blamed for misfortune. We never confirmed Usakichi’s fate at the vet, but I met Nakata-sensei once after he left preschool. No farewell event happened, so Mom wanted to say goodbye before we moved. I tagged along.
We met him at a park—he’d been hospitalized, still recovering, so we got fifteen minutes. His drastic weight loss shocked my young self. An unexplained illness left him unable to eat, on IVs, dropping nearly ten kilos. Mom gave him a thank-you gift with my drawing and letter.
"Thanks for everything, Towa-kun."
He’d live elsewhere for recovery. I couldn’t grasp him quitting. Mom said, "Hope we meet again," but I felt I wouldn’t.
"Teacher…"
Unlike Runa, I wasn’t clingy, but I felt the loneliness. He patted my head gently.
"You always read star books, Towa-kun. Are you an expert?"
"Not sure, but I know about stars."
"Good. Ever seen a galaxy?"
"…Like in space?"
I’d tried seeing Andromeda with Dad but failed due to weather.
"No, not space… Have you seen galaxy-like dust at home?"
"Galaxies aren’t dust—Dad said they’re clusters of stars."
"Right. Good. So you don’t see it."
I tilted my head, confused. He started to say more but stopped. "No, it’s nothing. Stay well, Towa-kun."
I don’t know where he went, but what he almost said still nags me.
That night, post-bath, I fiddled with my phone in bed. Opening my usual game felt off.
…Galaxy-like dust? I typed "galaxy dust" into my phone. Results were edible silver powder, nail coatings, and "Galaxy Coffee"—far from "dust seen at home."
Too vague. If I remember it after ten years, I should’ve pressed him then. Imagining him, I added "illness" to "galaxy dust."
The search lagged, then something hit.
"…Uh, Grim… Ah!"
The screen went black before I could read—battery dead. Plugging it in, no charge showed.
…What? Broken?
The phone glitch overshadowed the search. Maybe the charger failed. Shoji has the same model, so I went to borrow his. About to knock, I heard voices in the dim hall.
"Shoji-kun’s the only one I can rely on, so please."
"Sure, leave it to me!"
"Hey, too loud—it’s a secret, so quiet!"
"Oh, right. Sorry!"
Runa and Shoji were in a hushed talk, standing close—something they didn’t want overheard.
Since the boyfriend rumor, it’d buzzed then faded. Harada moved on to someone else, so the pretense wasn’t needed. Yet they looked cozy. I’ve no right to butt in, but it irked me—her smiling at another guy in a way she doesn’t with me.
"Whoa, you scared me…!"
Runa noticed my stare, flustered.
"A-Anyway, Shoji-kun, please!" She pattered back to her room.
"What were you talking about?"
"Uh, n-nothing big. I’m sleeping—night, Tsuzumin!"
"Wait, Shoji—"
He ducked into his room, rattled like Runa.
…What the hell? Annoyed but lacking a reason to pry, I stood in the hall.
Turns out, my phone didn’t charge because the plug was loose, not broken. Forgetting my pre-shutdown search, Sunday arrived.
"Tsuzumin, morning!"
Shoji’s loud voice and pounding woke me. He never knocks—bad for my heart every time.
"W-What…?"
"Let’s hang out!!"
His bright teeth dazzled. Bleary-eyed, I checked the clock—9 a.m. I’d stayed up past three, planning to sleep till noon, so I yanked the blanket over my head.
"Get up! Get ready!"
"What? We didn’t plan this. Why do I have to hang with you? What about practice?"
"I-I used a v-vacation day!"
"There’s no vacation in club."
As I turned away, he flipped me over forcefully.
"Just get up. I really wanna hang with you!"
We always hang out, I thought, but he wouldn’t let me sleep, so I grudgingly rose.
Dressing casually, Shoji cleared his throat dramatically and announced the day’s plan.
"First, two hours of a movie. Then a light lunch, a relaxing stop at a pet shop, some shopping, and home by 5:30, chatting about the day."
"Are you a girl!?"
I couldn’t help but retort. He wasn’t joking—he meant it—and hustled me out.
"Who wrote this?"
Walking to the station, I eyed his plan sheet. No way Shoji penned this—the handwriting screamed feminine.
"I-I stayed up thinking of places to go with you!"
"Creepy."
"Train’s here—hurry!"
He dodged the topic, but the train was real, so we dashed through the gate.
At a student-friendly town, we hit the movie theater. We picked a summer horror flick. I’m unfazed by occult stuff—jump scares amuse me. Shoji, surprisingly jumpy, flinched at every loud noise, more entertaining than the film.
The plan said "light lunch," but we ate burgers as usual. The pet shop felt awkward for two guys, so we left quick, skipped shopping, and hit a batting center instead.
"This rocks!"
Six netted cages surrounded us. Shoji smashed 120-kph hardballs effortlessly, each swing cutting the air with a crisp metallic clang. Daily practice shows.
"Tsuzumin, not batting?"
"Pass—don’t want sore muscles."
"You’re so weak."
"Leave me alone."
Sore muscles might be an exaggeration, but I enjoy watching over doing. Maybe I’m observational.
"Hey, what do you think of Runa-chan?"
"Why ask?"
"She’s hardworking and nice."
Another hit echoed. Minus her attitude toward me, she’s a good person with no glaring flaws.
"What about you? She’s your… girlfriend, right?"
"Ha! ‘Girlfriend’ sounds great! But it’s not real. I’d love a girl like her, though."
Shoji’s honesty outshines me. Aside from poor grades, he’s a catch—open-hearted and pure.
"I don’t wanna be your… rival, so stop."
"There’s the real you!"
He grinned, oddly pleased. Did he trick me?
"Don’t sulk! I just wanted to talk openly. Hearing even a bit of your feelings eases me."
He nailed a home-run target.
I’ve suppressed my "likes" since seeing Dad neglect family for his passions. Chasing what you love can turn selfish, prioritizing your feelings. I vowed not to be like that. But returning here, under the guise of a fresh start, I was excited to see Runa. Like Shoji, I’d longed for this reunion.
Back at the house, it was oddly quiet. Following flu-prevention rules, I washed up. Gargling noisily, I saw Sasano in the mirror.
"Guh… S-Stop sneaking up!"
I nearly choked.
"Tsuzumi-kun, sudden request—close your eyes?"
"Uh, w-why?"
"Please, just do it."
Her sly smile unnerved me, but trusting she wasn’t up to no good, I shut my eyes. She turned me around, guiding me forward.
"Stop here. Don’t open yet."
Her hands left my back. Standing clueless, she said, "Open." I did, and pop!—confetti fluttered before me.
"Happy birthday!!"
Yoko-san, Sasano, Runa, and Shoji—who I’d just been with—stood there.
"W-What, birthday?"
My voice cracked. The living room wall had "Happy Birthday" decorations and "16" balloons swaying.
"Yep, Tsuzumin forgot his own birthday!"
"But that helped us prep."
Shoji and Sasano sounded rehearsed.
"Here, birthday boy."
Runa placed a crown on my head. Wait, June 27th? I’d totally forgotten.
"Runa remembered your birthday, Towa-kun. She suggested a surprise party."
"M-Mom, you didn’t have to say that!"
Runa pouted to hide her embarrassment.
"So that secret talk with Shoji…"
"You’d ruin prep if you stayed. I asked Shoji-kun to take you out."
So that girly plan was hers? I felt petty for getting jealous.
"Let’s sit and start the party!"
At Yoko-san’s call, we took our usual spots. The table held chirashi sushi, fried chicken, roast beef, and Caesar salad—colorful and extra detailed.
"Kaho-chan helped today. I just plated it."
Yoko-san beamed.
…I’d never been celebrated this grandly—joy welled up. Everything tasted amazing. Shoji held back his usual gobbling, and I ate more than usual, pampered by all. Then came a decorated cake.
"Runa baked this from scratch—impressive, right?"
"Kaho, stop saying everything!"
It had a chocolate plate in Runa’s handwriting: "Happy 16th, Towa-kun." Store-quality, its cream and strawberry scent teased my nose.
"I just had free time today. Don’t get the wrong idea—this is a one-off!"
Her prickly attitude only made me happier now.
Before coming here, my world was just me—no connections, no ups or downs. Meeting everyone flipped that. "Busy heart" sounds trite, but it’s true—joy comes naturally now.
"Thanks, everyone."
Their brightness pulls me in—I smile too. I’m glad I came and want to keep being with them.
"Tsuzumin, let’s keep it going!"
Even after the party, Shoji was hyped, barreling past his room toward mine.
"You’ve got morning practice tomorrow."
"It’s fine! The night’s young!"
"Go sleep."
Brushing him off, I grabbed my doorknob. Amid his "Boo!" I muttered:
"Thanks for skipping club today."
Though Runa asked, I know the baseball coach is strict—skipping’s tough. Shoji wouldn’t lie to ditch, so he must’ve worked hard to free up today.
"It’s normal for friends, right?"
He’s blindingly good. Back in my room, savoring the afterglow, my phone buzzed—Mom.
"Hello?"
"Towa, happy birthday. Yoko-san sent pics—you got celebrated, huh?"
"Yeah."
"We’re toasting you with drinks too."
"We?"
"Your dad’s home."
Rare, right? she laughed. He’d returned from Australia unannounced. Why Australia? I once dreamed of being an astronomer like him, but I barely know his job—disappointment hit before curiosity.
"Want to talk to him?"
Her tone left it to me. I gripped the phone.
"…Just a bit."
A small reply, and Dad’s voice came through.
"Towa?"
Obviously, I thought, sensing his nerves.
"Yeah."
"You good? How’s life there?"
"Good, and fun."
"Glad to hear. It’s your birthday—congrats."
"Thanks."
Our search for words made it awkward.
"Sorry it’s not today, but a gift’s coming soon."
Shocked, I replied instantly:
"From who?"
"Me."
"From you…!?"
My voice rose, leaning forward. Dad forgets every occasion—no gifts ever. What’s this about? Mom’s influence?
"Can I… ask what it is?"
"A star naming right."
"N-Naming right…!?"
My voice spiked again. I’d heard you could buy naming rights for stars, but never imagined I’d get one.
"There’s a place in Australia for it. Remember when you were little, wanting to name a star?"
"Sorry, don’t recall."
"Oh. But I always planned to give you one at sixteen."
First I’d heard of it. I thought he only cared about astronomy—stars over family, unable to find my feelings. But maybe I missed his too.
"Were you in Australia for that?"
"Mainly, yeah, though I worked too."
He could’ve said it was just for me, but he can’t lie. I’d avoided him, unable to forgive, but I know him best.
"You live for stars, but you’d be lost without family, right?"
"Of course. Family lets me work and love stars with peace."
Still, he’s too hands-off—leaving parenting to Mom, neglecting me. I was lonely, frustrated, and can’t forgive easily. But…
"I’ll hold off on the past, but thanks for the gift."
It’s tough, but I want to forgive someday.
"You can name any star—alone, with someone, or not at all. Up to you."
"Okay."
A year older changes little, but I felt a small step up the adult ladder.
Hanging up, I found myself at Runa’s door. I’d shared Dad stuff with her—not a consultation, just venting—so I wanted to update her. Before knocking, Sasano emerged next door.
"Oh, Runa’s at the convenience store, I think."
…Alone at night again.
"She said she’d catch the night breeze on the way back."
Night breeze after the store… Only one place came to mind.
The salty sea air greeted me at the coastal road. Atop the towering evacuation structure, the factory nightscape dazzled like a montage of beauty.
"Runa."
I called to her back as she gazed at the view. Lit by the lights, she turned—her face shadowed, but she didn’t seem surprised.
"What’re you here for? I didn’t invite you."
"It’s not yours alone—I’ll come when I want."
"Ugh, should’ve never told you."
I moved beside her to see her face. She must’ve watched this alone before I returned—surrounded by people yet solitary now, a contrast that struck me.
"Thanks for today."
"You already said that."
"But thanks."
Without her initiative, I’d have had a normal day, and Mom’s call wouldn’t have led to Dad. I might’ve missed that chance.
"I talked to Dad a bit."
"Good for you."
"When’s your birthday again?"
"February 15th."
"I’ll practice baking a cake by then."
"Buy one—I don’t care."
Still, I want to do something for her birthday—not repayment, just my whim.
"Here."
She pulled a ribboned vial from her pocket. Taking it, I saw tiny origami stars inside—same as the one I’d returned.
"What?"
"I’m giving it to you."
"A birthday gift…?"
"No! I made too many, and they looked cute in the bottle, so…"
So she tied a ribbon on it and kept it in her pocket, waiting for the right moment?
It’s totally a gift. Her stubborn denial was adorable, and I chuckled.
"Those are lucky stars—said to bring happiness."
I held the vial to the lights. The pastel stars, dusted with glitter, sparkled.
"Then take this."
I placed the Orion strap in her palm.
"Why…?"
"You bought the tea—it’s useless to me. Not a gift, just returning it."
I’d meant to give it back but couldn’t find the timing.
"Thanks."
She gazed at it fondly, delighted. I’d known she wanted it—Orion, of all things, tempting misunderstanding.
"Stay happy as you turn seventeen, eighteen, and beyond."
Her beautiful words, from her beautiful face, quickened my pulse.
I’d thought she might have a boyfriend by now—hoping he’d treasure her over hurting her. She didn’t, but with many guy friends and admirers, I’d wished her cherished, yet got mad seeing her with others. Honestly, I didn’t want to hand her over.
"Runa."
I called softly. It’s not the time, I knew, but I couldn’t hold the words back.
"—I like you."
I grabbed her hand as I confessed. It was impulsive, but real. My heat rose, but her warmth faded under my fingers.
"…D-Don’t joke. It’s not funny."
She spoke fast, shaking me off. If I let go, I’d never reach her, so I gripped tighter.
"It’s no joke. I’m serious about you, Runa—"
"Stop."
She cut me off sharply.
"I don’t like you, Towa."
Repeating it firmly, a cold tear brushed my cheek, carried by the wind—hers.
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