“…Tears?”

I touch my cheek and find droplets of water on my fingertips.

Why? I don’t know. I wipe my eyes with my palm. Even as I do, the twilight landscape from a moment ago and the old lady’s words are disappearing, like water soaking into sand.

Tweedle.

By my pillow, my phone chirps.

I’m almost there. I’m looking forward to today.

It’s a Line message from Okudera-senpai.

Almost here? What’s she talking about? …And then I gasp.

“Wait, did Mitsuha—? Not again!” Panicked, I dive into my phone and read Mitsuha’s memo. “A date?!”

I bolt out of bed and get ready at top speed.

Date with Okudera-senpai in Roppongi tomorrow! She’ll be waiting in front of Yotsuya Station at 10:30. It’s a date I want to go on, but if I’m unlucky and it ends up being you, be grateful and enjoy it.

Fortunately, the place where we’re meeting is nearby. I sprint flat out and arrive with ten minutes to spare. As I catch my breath, I check my phone to make sure. Okudera-senpai might not be here yet. Even though it’s a weekend morning, the area around the station is still pretty lively.

I wipe away my sweat, straighten my jacket collar, and mutter “Mitsuha, you idiot” three times. Then, just in case, I start looking for Okudera-senpai.

…I’m on a date with the Okudera-senpai. Not only that, but as it happens, this is my first date ever. A first date with Okudera-senpai, who’s like an idol, or an actress, or Miss Japan? Yeah, that’s setting the bar fiendishly high. Mitsuha, you moron. It’s not too late yet, so I’m begging you, switch places with me!

“Taaaki!”

“Waugh!”

A voice startles me from behind, and I give a really lame yell. Hastily, I turn around.

“Sorry. Did I keep you waiting?”

“No, I wasn’t waiting! Uh, I mean, yes, I was! Or, no…”

What’s with that question?! If I tell her I waited, I might make her feel bad, and if I tell her I wasn’t waiting, I risk making her think I was late. Aaagh, what’s the right answer?

“Um, I, er…”

Flustered, I look up. Okudera-senpai is standing right there, smiling at me.

“…!”

My eyes go wide. She’s in black mules, a white flared miniskirt, and a black off-the-shoulder blouse. The monochrome outfit leaves her shoulders and legs dazzlingly exposed, and several gold accessories have been placed strategically, as if placing a careful seal on the charms of her skin. There’s a large mocha-colored ribbon on her small white hat.

She looks incredibly sophisticated and incredibly pretty.

“…I just got here.”

“Oh, good!” she laughs, sounding chipper.

“Shall we?”

She takes my arm… Ah, for a moment—just a moment—your breast touched my arm. I have a sudden, immediate urge to polish every window in this town.

“The conversation keeps dying…”

In the bathroom, I’m hanging my head real, real low. I feel like smashing it against the mirror.