Episode Three: The Person Beyond the Line ―August 2032―

“Well done, everyone!”

It was just past ten o’clock. Having changed out of my uniform into casual clothes, I stepped outside through Palm’s back entrance.

My shift today… well, after the teacher left, I made a lot of mistakes. Was I always this easily affected by other people?

　Though much better than midday, it was still sweltering even at night. I’d pop into the convenience store and grab some ice cream on the way home.

Thinking this, I reached the nearest convenience store to Palm and suddenly found myself staring wide-eyed.

“…Sensei⁉”

My heart nearly stopped from the shock.

“…Uehara-san?”

“Why are you here? Have you already split up with the person you were with? Or rather, do you live around here, Sensei?”

“Well, yes. I’m on my own at the moment.”

In stark contrast to my excitement at this chance encounter, Sensei seemed downcast. Or rather, though she was naturally fair-skinned, she now looked almost pallid, her complexion poor.

“Sensei, you look unwell. Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes, I’m fine. …I’m sorry, I must be off now… Oh? Uehara-san, you’ve just finished your part-time job, haven’t you? Are you cycling?”

“Nah, I’m walking to the station.”

“…That’s dangerous. I’ll take you home.”

“Eh⁉ I always walk, it’s fine!”

“As your teacher, I can’t let you do that. Let’s go.”

My heart, which had just been startled, now began pounding loudly, urging itself to beat faster. It was a sudden, extraordinary experience. Climbing into the passenger seat of the rather large car, the glow of the satnav in the darkness was dazzling.

A drive with my teacher? What a wonderful night this was turning out to be. My chest was filled with nothing but excitement at what might happen next.

“Please fasten your seatbelt. Whereabouts is your house? Do you have a curfew? If we’re likely to be late, I’ll speak to your parents myself.”

“No, I don’t. No one’s home when I get back, so it’s fine.”

Normally, I could think things through before acting, but perhaps carried away by excitement, I’d blurted it out. The teacher looked as if she wanted to say something, staring intently at my face.

“Oh, I’ve done it,” I regretted. Past experience had taught me that mentioning home usually elicited awkward reactions from others.

Forcing myself to change the subject, I tried to sound cheerful.

“Air freshener? White musk? I love this scent. You use a surprisingly classic one, don’t you?”

“It’s less about my taste and more that a friend who often rides in this car likes the scent.”

A friend? A vague mist seemed to cloud my chest for an instant, but this was a precious chance to talk, so I’d ignore it and prioritise the conversation.

“Hmm. What about music? Don’t you play any?”

“No, I don’t. I tend to be thinking a lot while driving, and music in my ears makes it hard to concentrate.”

“Isn’t it dangerous if you don’t concentrate on driving? Be careful, okay?”

“I’m careful when I have passengers. Especially now that I’m driving a student.”

As we talked like this, I realised I was getting strangely excited, almost to my own surprise. Perhaps it was the backlash from not seeing her over the summer holidays, but I was completely switched on. I paid no attention to the scenery outside the window, instead chatting away non-stop to the side of her face.

No matter how trivial the topic I brought up, she would always respond in her own words.

　Unconditional trust like that is incredible. You rarely find such a sense of security.

“When did you get your licence, Sensei?”

“During my first year of university summer holidays. I didn’t have any friends, so I just hung around the driving school and got it straight away.”

“Did you really need to say you didn’t have friends? I already know, so it’s fine, but you shouldn’t say it to someone you’ve just met – it makes them feel awkward.”

“I understand perfectly. I only said it because it’s you, Uehara-san.”

　…I wonder why. That casual remark made my heart skip a beat.

I tried to say something but couldn’t, so I closed my mouth. The instructor drove on in silence too.

Naturally, at seventeen, I didn’t have a driving licence.

Neither Ryoka, Fuwa, Wataru, nor any of my friends or classmates could drive a car either.

　But the teacher is an adult. Because she’s an adult, she has a licence, can buy whatever car she likes, and drive whenever she wants, even on nights like this.

Watching her grip the steering wheel made me acutely aware she was seven years older than me.

She lived in a different world to mine, someone on the other side of the ‘line’.

Why would someone like that give me a lift?

　I understand that offering to drive me home because walking alone at night is dangerous stems from kindness and a sense of duty. But isn’t it rather risky for a teacher to have a student alone in the car at night?

It doesn’t feel like something my teacher, who always emphasises her position, would do. Is something wrong?

…Is it alright to ask? Sharing this moment together, I should have the right to know.

“Sensei. Is something wrong?”

Even if my blunt question might hurt her, I couldn’t tend to the wound without asking what was truly troubling her.

The atmosphere had grown heavy, and the car, devoid of music, felt uncomfortably stifling. I was tempted to open the window, but I feared the feelings she was holding inside might escape, so I chose to keep it closed.

　Because I didn’t want you to run away.

“Why do you ask such things?”

“No particular reason. I just wondered, so I asked. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“You’re kind, aren’t you, Uehara-san? I often feel that way about you.”

It pleased me that ‘kind’ existed in your image of me, but I took care not to show it.

　Because I’m not acting out of pure goodwill right now.

I don’t want the teacher to know about this feeling, which hides calculation, manoeuvring, and a tiny bit of ulterior motive, and be disappointed in me.

“It’s nothing, really. Did you have a row with the friend who came to the shop with you today?”

It was a sneaky probe from me, wanting to know about the teacher’s relationship with that woman.

“Well, she’s not exactly a friend… She was my form teacher back in high school. I call her Hisako-san… She’s also my mentor.”

Hearing that name made me start. I remembered something the teacher had said during the extra lessons.

“…I have a mentor. My mentor, Hisako-san, was my form teacher in high school. She was truly wonderful.”

　The only person the teacher, who claimed to have no friends or lover, kept in touch with and occasionally went out for meals with.

In other words, she was undoubtedly a very important person to the teacher.

“I… I see…”

I managed to nod along, but I was quite shaken. With so many hints, how could I not have noticed?

“Ah, so that person was your mentor. She was younger than I imagined, and, well, she was absolutely stunning!”

I spun words together, trying to cover up. I’d been the one to probe about their relationship, and the teacher had answered exactly as I’d hoped. So why was my heart in such turmoil?

“Yes. Hisako-san was beautiful then and remains so now, but above all, she possesses inner beauty. Naturally, she is loved by men too. … Today, Hisako-san told me she’s getting married to her current partner.”

“Eh? Well, congratulations then!”

“Yes, it’s wonderful news. I offered my congratulations too.”

“…Then why does the teacher seem so down?”

I wanted to know the reason for the sorrow clouding her elegant profile.