Episode 7

‘That girl… Seriha…?’

Her voice trembled. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, nor was she being threatened. Yet her voice quivered and her gaze wandered.

‘Yes. I’m Ichikawa Seriha, in the flesh.’

‘…I see. So that’s how it was…’

“I’m sorry for bringing this up so suddenly. I’m not trying to do anything wrong.”

“But I wanted to tell you, Senpai. Why I care about you. That I’m serious.”

I knew there must be a reason why she was pursuing me. Knowing how earnest she is, I knew it wasn’t just about my face or my body…

But I hadn’t expected to hear that we’d met back in middle school.

“Middle school… so that was when I was in Year 3, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. You were in Year 3, and I was in Year 1.”

That means two years in middle school. Three years in high school. Four years at university. And as a working adult… about a year.

“Ten years…”

“To be precise, ten years and six months.”

“For ten years and six months, I’ve thought of you every single day. No matter what. All this time.”

I can’t believe it.

“Mind if I talk about something a bit heavy for a moment?”

“It’s already heavy enough,” she continued with a laugh.

“The only time I spoke to you was on that snowy day. And even then, it was only for about twenty minutes.”

“I was going through a lot back then and had been thinking about ending it all. I won’t go into details, but it was because of the manga I was drawing.”

“Looking back now, it wasn’t really a big deal, but I suppose I was still just a child.”

　Die? Seriha…? She, who was brighter than anyone else, who seemed to be at the very opposite end of the spectrum from death.

“So, I intended to end it all once I’d finished the manga I was drawing at the time.”

“But then, I met you that day, and you read the manga I’d drawn…”

I could tell her voice was trembling.

“From your perspective that day, I suppose it was probably just casual small talk. But…”

“For me, I’ll never forget that moment for the rest of my life.”

Even though she’s crying, yet her smile bloomed like a flower, as always. What on earth did I do for her that day?

“I’ll give you a hint about what you said to me.”

“What sort of girl was I back then?”

I’d already answered that. If I search through the sea of my memories one by one, I’m sure I’ll remember.

“You were like a literary girl — the quiet bookish type. You had long hair and wore glasses.”

“Correct. So, what sort of manga did that literary girl, Seriha-chan, draw?”

The memories started to come together. Vaguely, the scene from that day floated into my mind.

“Romance manga… I said I wanted a happy ending…”

I remembered. It had simply been tucked away in the depths of my memory, but it was still there.

“—You just need to aim to be like the heroine of that manga.”

“That’s… right.”

“The true identity of Seriha-chan, everyone’s favourite, was something she had modelled on the heroine from the manga she drew herself.”

“Senpai, are you disappointed?”

What on earth should I be disappointed about? I can’t think of a single reason.

“Seriha… you tried so hard, didn’t you? Much more than I ever did.”

I can picture her burying her face in her knees and weeping.

“I did my best… for years and years. I wanted to thank you, Senpai. I wanted you to see the changed me.”

“At first, that was all I felt, but I soon realised I’d fallen for you, Senpai.”

“It took me ten whole years.”

My vision blurs, and Seriha’s figure before me becomes a hazy blur.

“Oh… sorry… why am I—”

Once the dam breaks, it seems it won’t subside for a while. Even when I press my hands over my eyes, the tears just keep streaming down. Why on earth am I crying?

That heroine was cheerful and lively, cute and stylish. The sort of popular girl everyone adored. I think that’s the sort of character she was.

She bears no resemblance whatsoever to the Seriha of that time.

　I don’t think there was any deep meaning behind what I said to Seriha back then. I just told her what I was thinking.

I don’t know why, but if a single innocent remark from me managed to tether her to this world, someone who felt so cornered she’d chosen death, then I’m truly glad.

‘Why are you crying, Senpai? You’re crying even more than I am.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know… but I suppose I’m crying because I’m happy.’

　If I hadn’t met her on that snowy day, Ichikawa Seriha might no longer be in this world.

And if I hadn’t met Ichikawa Seriha as an adult, I, Takemi Hiito, would have kept running away from the pain forever.

Could something like this really be a miracle?

Before I knew it, I was holding Seriha close. Her body heat, transmitted through our skin, felt warm.

‘It’s a miracle… Meeting on that snowy day, seeing each other again, being together. A miracle like this… it’s like something out of a manga.’

I’ve heard that life is a succession of miracles. The days we spend as if they were ordinary are, in fact, made up of a succession of miracles. Indeed, that might well be true.

For a while, I didn’t want to let go of this warmth and comfort. While both of us wept without restraint, that’s what I thought.