On Tuesday, during a brief break in the rainy season, Takagi wrinkled her nose and complained about the strong scent of disinfectant drifting into the classroom.
Up on the mountain shrine, the wind chime vendor added a new row of sky-blue glass chimes to the hemp ropes, their soft clinking carried by the summer breeze. Meanwhile, Nishikata managed to snag a half-price yakisoba bun from the school's convenience store.
On Wednesday, inside the science prep room, Shouko and Akira chatted quietly about the process of cicada molting while the class representative replaced their thick neckties with lighter, sheer ones for summer. Ayumi, in a rush, accidentally knocked over the jar of paint Miyagi Yuki had been preparing and apologized so many times that even Yuki began laughing.
Thursday evening brought a sudden downpour, drenching three lanterns from the festival stalls. Nishimiya Yaeko, caught without an umbrella, ducked into a nearby convenience store for shelter.
Finally, on Friday—accompanied by the relentless cries of cicadas—the first semester of their high school life came to a close as Akira turned in his last exam paper.
"Shouko, I'll miss you during summer vacation!" said a gray-haired classmate, waving reluctantly as she left.
Akira and Nishikata leaned against the railing outside the corridor, watching the lively goodbyes inside the classroom. Their hearts, however, remained calm.
"Hey, Miyamura," Nishikata began, "Pokémon just released a preview. Let's Go Pikachu and Let's Go Eevee—coming out mid-November. Interested?"
"Hmm, maybe. No rush," Akira replied, feeling the warm breeze brush his cheek. "Besides, Sword and Shield are coming out next year around the same time."
He briefly thought of the black-haired little sister figure who had taken over his handheld console, and couldn't help feeling slightly conflicted.
"Sword and Shield? Another Pokémon title? How do you even know that?" Nishikata asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Inside information," Akira said with a grin, leaving it at that.
Both of them turned their gazes back toward the classroom—toward someone in particular.
Moments later, Shouko emerged, walking beside Takagi and Ayumi.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," she said, handing Akira a small piece of candy someone had given her. Whatever melancholy she'd felt earlier was gone.
"Let's go."
The group quickened their pace, with the girls chatting and teasing each other as usual. Shouko and Takagi exchanged playful remarks, while Akira and Nishikata continued their easy talk about manga and games.
The cicadas sang their endless chorus, the summer air shimmered with heat, and the sunlight on the pavement seemed to crawl up their legs.
The convenience store's air conditioner hummed steadily, and wind chimes swayed lazily under the shrine's eaves.
As the blue light of the vending machine flickered to life, the distant echo of fireworks bloomed across the sky—marking the first night of summer vacation.
"Shouko, I'm heading to Futaba Publishing first," Akira said the next morning, standing by the living room door. "Should I come back before we go meet your offline client?"
"I want to go too." Shouko blinked her wide eyes at him innocently.
"I've got serious business to handle…"
"I'll behave! I promise." She clasped her hands dramatically.
Akira sighed. "Alright, but don't run off anywhere."
Shouko immediately sprang to her feet from the sofa, patting her chest proudly. "Don't worry! I'm not Yuzuru. I'll just chat with Funo-kun and wait for you."
"…You really have an answer for everything."
After informing Miyamura Shizuka, Akira's mother, they left on his motorcycle. Since Shouko was riding with him, he kept the speed moderate and safe.
It took over thirty minutes to reach the Futaba Publishing building. Shouko gazed up at the tall office towers and the weary office workers streaming in and out. For a moment, she fell silent.
To her, these things—work, careers, responsibilities—still felt like distant worlds.
"Let's go."
"Mm-hm."
Akira locked the bike, took her hand, and led her inside, passing the curious glance of the security guard.
"Ding…"
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. As they stepped out, the elderly guard near the entrance sat fanning himself in the cool air. Shouko greeted him politely before following Akira toward Funo Jun's workstation.
Over the past six months, she'd visited Futaba Publishing several times—helping design promotional posters and cover art for Akira's light novel Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day.
At first, she'd wondered if that old security guard was really suited for his job, but when Akira explained the man's situation—how he'd lost his wife early and had little else to do—she quietly sighed, understanding.
"What a pity…" the old man murmured, watching the pair walk away.
For a fleeting moment, he'd even imagined pairing his granddaughter with Akira—despite the seven-year age gap—but ultimately smiled it off. Some things were best left to fate.
"Jun-san, have they arrived yet?" Akira asked as he pulled out a chair for Shouko.
"Ten more minutes," Funo Jun replied, raising a finger. "You can wait in the conference room. I'll bring them in."
"Then, Shouko, you—"
"It's fine," Funo cut him off with a wave. "She can come along. It's just an initial meeting; they won't get serious yet."
"Alright."
Following her directions, Akira and Shouko entered the empty conference room to wait. Over the past half-year, he'd become familiar with the place and the people—though there was one particular man with a crew cut who always seemed to dislike him.
Akira never knew why, but he didn't dwell on it. After all, no one here knew that Teacher Miyamura, the author of Anohana, was actually a high school student.
That anonymity suited him perfectly.
Knock knock knock.
"Come in," Akira called.
The glass door opened, and Funo Jun entered with a man in a black suit and a young woman with wavy hair.
"This is…" The man paused when he saw Akira, momentarily stunned. The girl gave him a subtle nudge, and he quickly regained his composure.
"You're… the author of Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day, Teacher Miyamura, correct?"
He still looked shocked. Though Futaba Publishing was known for its eccentric authors, he hadn't expected Teacher Miyamura to be such a young boy.
Akira smiled politely, shaking hands with them both before sitting at the conference table. Shouko followed his lead, awkwardly mimicking his handshake and greeting.
He had gone over the whole process with her earlier, but still—rehearsing it in her head and doing it in person were two very different things.
"Haha…" The man chuckled, sitting opposite Akira. "I never imagined Teacher Miyamura would be so young. I always believed the online rumors saying you were in your thirties or forties."
Still, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
A young writer, he thought, would be much easier to handle—and judging by his looks, Akira couldn't have been older than twenty.
Akira kept his composed smile and exchanged a few courteous words in return, the meeting quietly beginning to unfold.
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