On seeing Gohtaro’s attempt, Shuichi laughed boisterously. “Ha ha, nice look,” he said and put the camera into Gohtaro’s hand.

“You’re definitely going to show this to Haruka, okay?” Upon saying this, Shuichi stood up.

“I’m sorry, Shuichi.” Gohtaro was still crying.

“Is something wrong with the coffee?” queried Nagare in a low voice from behind the counter. It was his way of expressing concern. The coffee was going cold.

You’re not forgetting the time, are you? was what he meant. “Yeah, you should go,” said Shuichi.

Gohtaro stared into Shuichi’s eyes. “Shuichi!” he yelled.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, I’m okay,” he replied but it did nothing to dispel Gohtaro’s gloomy expression. He smiled wryly.

“Hey! Are you planning on attending Haruka’s wedding as a spook or something?” he asked, patting Gohtaro on the shoulder.

Gohtaro turned his tear-drenched face toward Shuichi. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Hey, it’s okay, drink up!” retorted Shuichi, waving his palms.

Gohtaro took the cup in his hands and, feeling that it had pretty much gone cold, gulped it all down in one.

“Uh...”

A feeling much like dizziness once again enveloped him. “Shuichi—!” Gohtaro shouted, but he had already begun to vaporize. His voice didn’t seem to have reached Shuichi. Yet, just when he thought his shimmering surroundings would begin to ripple, in his hazy state he clearly heard Shuichi say:

“Look after Haruka for me.”

These were the same words the twenty-two-year-younger Gohtaro would hear one year from then, on a day when the snowlike sakura petals had danced across the clear sky.

Gohtaro suddenly found that, just as on the way back in time, the speed with which he was being returned to the future was increasing, he was being propelled along. He lost consciousness.

“Monsieur?”

Gohtaro came to, to the voice of Miki. The café interior looked exactly the same. But there before him were Miki, Nagare and Kazu.

Was it a dream?

Gohtaro’s focus abruptly shifted to his hand and to the camera in it. He hurriedly tried pressing the play button.

As he was looking at the screen, the woman in the dress returned from the toilet and stood in front of the table.

“Move!” she spat out in a frightening, deep, guttural tone.

“Ah, sorry,” Gohtaro said, getting up in a hurry to vacate the seat for her.

The woman in the dress sat down with a nonchalant expression and pushed the cup that remained on the table away from her, obviously an order to clear it away.

The unwanted cup was quickly collected up by Miki. Without the aid of a tray, she carried the cup in both hands. She scuffled past Gohtaro and returned to Nagare’s side behind the counter.

She passed the cup to Nagare.