For one thing, this was the first night my neighbor had played anime songs at such a loud volume. Usually, he played them only during the day, but it was already the middle of the night.

Then, it occurred to me: Might this not be some new harassment meant for me? Harassment toward me! Someone so pathetic and stupid that he couldn’t even become a freeter!

If so, I couldn’t allow it. I tried punching the wall. There was no sign that the songs would stop. I kicked at the wall. No reaction.

How dare you make a fool of me? They’re all—every one of them— making a fool of me. Dammit. Just watch, I’ll make you regret this.

I drank, got even drunker, drinking to deaden my senses…

I’m going, and I’ll show you! You’re the ones at fault.

Rising unsteadily from the kotatsu, no doubt looking like I was about to fall on my ass, I stumbled to open the door.

I tottered to room 202 and repeatedly attacked the doorbell. “Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong…”

No answer.

I tried punching the door.

No answer. The only sounds from inside were anime songs. This particular number was the theme song to Fancy Lala: “I am Fancy Lala…”

In my anger, blood rushed to my head.

I twisted the doorknob. The door wasn’t locked, and I no longer cared what might happen.

“Hey!” I shouted, losing myself in fury. Flinging open the door, I screamed, “It’s too loud!”

At that very second, I saw him. A man sat at a computer desk in the back of the room, facing the speakers against the wall. Acknowledging the surprising arrival of a visitor, he slowly swiveled around in his spinning chair so he could look at me over his shoulder.

He was… crying.

Tears silently streamed down his cheeks.

On top of that, and even more unbelievable, I knew exactly who he was. Speechless, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Wiping his own eyes, he gazed at me in disbelief. Thrusting himself forward, he stared into my face. Finally, after a momentary silence, he stammered in a trembling voice, “Sa-Satou?”

There was no mistake. It was Yamazaki. After four years, this was an incredibly unexpected reunion.

Part Two

In high school, I had been in the literature club.

Even so, that didn’t mean I liked novels or anything of that sort. Rather, during the new-member recruitment fair, an awfully cute upperclassman had invited me. “You there, join the literature club.”

Without thinking, I had nodded. There was really nothing else I could have done. Despite being a member of the nerdy literature club, and despite being a year older than I was, the girl was as cute as a pop idol.