Summertime Iceberg

Hearing your voice instantly brings back memories.

Vivid green exploding above our heads.

The dappled sunlight falling colorless and clear, the air glistening with moisture.

Your profile as you walked beside me, beads of sweat tracing your forehead, laughter creasing the corners of your eyes.

Passing seasons tinted with a faded shade of blue.

You may not remember. But you'll soon know.

In the end, the only ones who can melt time and unfreeze hearts are ourselves.

I am sure you will cry many times. Words won't be conveyed as they should. Petty stubbornness will get in the way. There will be many nights when you will cry out, “Why don't you understand me? I've had enough!"

But it's alright. The tears that wet your cheeks will surely be dried by next summer.

That is what you will come to know, as I have.

Look—this year too, summer arrives, bringing fresh miracles to you.

Yet I still think to myself . . .

I wish I could have frozen that summer and held it forever in my hands.

Each time summer comes, that's what I think.

It was an unusually cool morning.

Susumu Soya woke up and was struck by an odd sensation. Despite being covered with a blanket and sleeping with more than just a T-shirt, his skin felt cool.

Puzzled, he sat up. It felt as if remnants of a dream were pooling at the base of his skull, giving him a slight headache.

Why is it so cool?

A sneeze escaped him as a sea breeze slipped through the mesh of the window.

The room, usually used as his uncle's study, offered a view of the sea beyond the trees, while he was surrounded by a forest of books. One title caught his eye.

The Ice Sphinx

The sight of it in his peripheral vision induced another sneeze. His beloved Jules Verne now felt irksome.

Surrounded by the stiff titles of science fiction novels, Susumu felt both his body and mind hardening. He eased his stiffened body and mind by slowly peering out the window. The sea visible from the second-floor room was a bit more tumultuous than usual. One large ship and three small fishing boats floated on it, and even from far away, he could tell that they were bathed in a silken glow of white sunlight.

The scent of the tide was thicker than last month, and the light piercing his eyes was sharpened even further.

It's summer. The smell of summer, the glow of summer.

Every one of his senses knew it. It was undeniably summer, the season of the sea and the sun.

So, what was this odd feeling? He wrapped the e-bracelet which lay beside his pillow around his left wrist. As soon as he activated it, a white light traced the outer rim of the bracelet, followed by a blinking green light. A virtual screen unfolded on Susumu's slender wrist, first displaying today's date. The calendar app launched.

July 30, 2035, Monday. 9:05 AM. No plans for today

Susumu let out a sigh. There was nothing unusual about the date.

Hey Susumu, did you catch the news?

How could I? I just woke up.

You better watch it. Truth is stranger than fiction, you know.

Descending to the living room, Susumu headed straight for the fridge. A chilly, white breeze wafted out from inside.

What’s that . . . ? Wait, where’s the milk? Only barley tea?

His grumbling came in a low, rough voice, his throat still parched from just waking up.

Milk? We never had any. Now if our fridge turned into a portal to another dimension, that'd really put my writing ideas to shame, right, Yuzuki?

That’s right. Oh, if you want some milk, Susumu, I can pick some up today.

No, I don't I particularly want any. I’m fine, thank you.

He poured himself some barley tea with practiced ease.

What’s that all about?

The bewildered voice of his uncle echoed from behind him.

In the center of the living room, Tetsuya was browsing the news on an e-paper. The screen displayed domestic news headlines.

Japan Coast Guard

Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force

Such phrases alternately decorated the liquid crystal display.

Something must have happened at sea. Though he thought so, it was hardly captivating to seventeen-year-old Susumu.

Susumu, how many pieces of toast do you want? There are only three left.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Yuzuki, the second daughter of the Wakakusa family into which Tetsuya had married, was cheerfully preparing breakfast.

Her hair, tied back in a ponytail, swayed at the nape of her neck. Her slightly drooping eyes expressed a calm and approachable aura, yet even in the morning, her face was subtly made up, hinting at her meticulousness.

This year she turned thirty-two. Walking alongside him, one might mistake her for Susumu's older sister rather than his aunt.

Then, could I please have one? Actually, make it two.

Two pieces, unusual. There’s butter and jam and, just in case, wasabi over there.

After downing a cup of chilled barley tea, Susumu cleared his throat.

Thank you very much.

He thanked her politely, averting his gaze from the modest smile that played on Yuzuki’s lips.

What was so delightful about that?

Susumu found Yuzuki difficult to deal with. Her pervasive kindness and smiles always left him somewhat uneasy. It wasn't so much calculation as it was dedication, and more veiled than sincere. He had never been comfortable with her behavior, which always kept him guessing. It wasn't that he disliked her; it just felt awkward, as if he was making her uncomfortable.

Hey, Tetsu.

So today, too, Susumu sat down next to his uncle as if trying to escape.

What is it?

Don’t you ever think about making breakfast?

I usually do, but when summer comes, Yuzuki kicks me out of the kitchen.

As he stuffed his face with toast, Susumu glanced casually at Tetsuya.

He had curly dark brown hair and tanned skin, and the wrinkles entrenched between his brows spoke of his stubborn nature. A former novelist, he turned thirty-three that year. On his chin, a thick layer of stubble was rapidly reemerging.

You know, Tetsu.

Hmm?

As Tetsuya turned to him, Susumu sighed.

If you keep slacking off on the housework, you might wear out your welcome. Really, take care. People as good as Yuzuki are rare.

Saying this, Susumu felt fed up with his own cunning. It was the tedious pretense of being devoted to Yuzuki. Showing that he was a dutiful nephew protecting his kind aunt. He was growing to hate the skills he had honed.

You've become quite cheeky, haven't you? Well, never mind that. How about trying some wasabi toast? It'll wake you up in no time.

No thanks. I've never seen you awake. And anyway, pain isn't tasty.

You don’t understand the taste of spice or pain yet, kid.

Tetsuya laughed as he bit into it, then immediately choked.

Gah, uh . . . Yuzuki, barley tea, please.

Do it yourself.

Wow, that’s cold. Hey, kid, the barley tea.

Susumu answered with just his breath and headed to the fridge. He poured the barley tea and handed the cup over.

Here.

Tetsuya accepted it contentedly.

Mm, not bad at all.

He lifted the corners of his mouth.

you're a good kid. Stay like this, Susumu.

I'll try.

This is the problem with Millennials, Susumu thought, narrowing his eyes.

Susumu's summers at his uncle's house had become a tradition since he was in third grade. His parents, who ran an event management company, were swamped with work day and night during the summer, leaving Susumu in the care of his nearby uncle, Tetsuya, to get through their busiest season. As a child, Susumu was clingy and needed a lot of attention—at least that's what he had heard—so it seemed leaving him home alone was never an option.

Of course, his parents compensated Tetsuya for this arrangement. Susumu wasn't oblivious to this fact, and by middle school, he had come to understand his circumstances. He didn't know the exact amount of the payment or what his aunt and uncle spent it on, but he realized that his presence was somewhat of a burden to his parents during the summer.

I'm not from a privileged background. Maybe I wasn't even wanted. Such frustration was constantly swirling inside Susumu. He longed to grow up fast, to be free from the predetermined bonds called family. He yearned for his own autonomy, to be strong enough to move through the seasons without relying on anybody.

He desired a strong body and heart, capable of enduring the heat that came once a year.

As he looked out of the window, his throat tightened. The end of this sweltering season, reminding him of his own helplessness, seemed to lie beyond the horizon, where he imagined his adult self to be.

Ahh, that's refreshing! Now, back to work.

Twirling his e-paper, Tetsuya stood up from the couch and headed to his upstairs office, his figure as he walked away distinctly that of a man. Susumu inadvertently let a hint of jealousy spill out.

Working since morning, that's rare.

Huh? Yeah, I'm just writing a short piece for the web today. Well, that's mostly what it's been lately.

What about your novels? you're not doing those anymore?

I'm actually working on an epic right now. Once it's done, you're gonna have to brace yourself to read it.

You've been saying that for a while now.

Shut up. I'm trying to motivate myself here.

Susumu retorted sarcastically to his boasting uncle.

Well, I won't hold my breath.

Once, Uncle Tetsuya had been someone Susumu had looked up to like a brother or a friend. Spending time with this good-natured uncle was one of his few respites from the stifling atmosphere at home. Now, at seventeen, he often found him bothersome. When exactly had he started seeing imperfections in the man he once admired and dullness in the words he so cherished?

The attitude of chasing dreams now seemed nothing more than the hollow bravado of a meandering middle-aged man.

You really have learned how to speak out . . . I guess it's time for you to start helping your busy uncle with household chores. You can start with servicing the bike.

What? Again? I hate that. My hands get greasy, it's noisy, and the smell of gasoline is the worst. Plus, who even uses non-electronic controls these days?

Hey, criticize me all you want, but leave my Rebel out of this!

Alright, enough noise. Stop arguing and eat, Susumu. You need to leave early today. They might block off the coastal road.

Yuzuki pouted as she set the table for breakfast.

Yeah, Susumu. Being in remedial classes is embarrassing enough. Showing up late on top of that would be the icing on the cake.

Shut up! Anyway, why would they block off the coastal road?

Is something happening today?

He spoke with a casual tone.

Oh, haven't you seen the news, Susumu?

Nah, I just woke up.

As he looked out the window, he took a bite of his lightly buttered toast.

I see. Why don’t you go out and look at the sea then? I'll make some coffee in the meantime.

Prompted by Yuzuki, Susumu headed to the entrance. Slipping his feet into a pair of sandals, he opened the door. Exposing his worn T-shirt to the sun, he was momentarily blinded by the brilliant light and felt a twinge of regret.

The sun was intensely strong.

July 30, 2035. It was predicted to be the hottest day of the year in Miura City, Kanagawa Prefecture. Despite it being morning, it was as bright as midday, and heat haze wavered over the cracked asphalt road. With each step, he sped up as if lured towards the sea.

His uncle’s house stood on a slightly elevated hill near the coast. It took less than a minute to reach his destination. Descending the gentle slope and emerging from the greenery, Susumu caught his breath.

No way, this can't be real.

The breeze from the sea skimmed the landscape. The crisp sea air filled his lungs. Far out beyond his line of sight, where the waves returned to the sea, the horizon was enveloped by the deep blue sky. In the center was an unfamiliar white.

The sea of his childhood, a maternal presence that enveloped both Susumu's past and present, now cradled a stark white monolith. A building? An apartment? A dome stadium? No, such terms were too meager. The sheer size of it, defying past memories and current common sense, was something no man-made structure could replicate. It loomed over the horizon, piercing the clear sky—a solitary mountain floating in the sea.

What in the world . . . is that?

An enormous, unprecedented iceberg floated in the familiar sea before him.

Returning to his room, Susumu wiped off his sweat and changed into his uniform. Downstairs, he could hear his aunt, Yuzuki, calling out to him.

Summer vacation had started on July 21, and whether he liked it or not, nine days had already passed. The end of the summer break on August 26 was now less than a month away.

Susumu, you're going to be late!

Ah, yes. I'm coming out now.

Their interaction, almost like that of a parent and child, was diluted with a single-word.

Not with a casual 'yeah', but a formal 'yes'.

Well then, I'm off.

He slipped his feet into his loafers and flung open the front door. Yuzuki's cheerful voice followed behind him.

Take care!

Pretending not to hear, Susumu headed towards the garage where his bicycle was parked.

Susumu was already in his second year of high school. It wasn't a big deal to spend the summer alone without his parents. The fact that he was "left at a relative’s house because his parents were busy" felt much worse. It was like being told he couldn't survive on his own.

After all, even if it was just the two of them, having him come every year might be a nuisance. They never said it, but the truth was that taking care of Susumu was becoming a burden.

His suspicions grew, though he used to spend time in their house so innocently before.

Tetsu, I've sorted the toolbox already.

In the garage, the red toolbox sat in front of a black motorcycle. Despite claiming to care about it, Tetsuya had Susumu help with maintenance every year. After finishing up, he would sometimes buy him ice cream as a sort of payment.

Want to eat it together on the porch?

Tetsuya would pat his head to the song of the cicadas as he asked this, a secret source of joy to a younger Susumu. He used to look forward to answering "yes."

When did he start getting annoyed by being patted on the head, seeing it as being treated like a child? Since when did their kindness start to look more like an obligation for monetary compensation?

With a feeling of resignation, Susumu removed the lock from his bicycle. The satisfying click drowned out the irritating noise of the cicadas.

When did he start feeling irritated by his own neither-child-nor-adult status?

Please make way. don't spread out too much and obstruct the path. There are people coming through. Please, keep close together.

He had just descended the narrow slope from Jikkoji Temple and reached Prefectural Road 215.

Accompanied by the amplified voice, that colossal entity reappeared.

It truly was a mountain. An ice mountain, stoic and towering above the sea with a surly face. Its surface, cloaked in cold air, was blindingly white, easily stealing the entirety of one's view. It was as if a peak from the Alps had been sliced off and set afloat, snatching away any notion of normality. What is that? Such a dumbfounded thought was all that came to mind.

Look at this crowd! The Yokosuka City Fire Department is urging people not to approach the coastline, yet many have gathered to catch a glimpse of the iceberg!

The reporter, clad in a thin blouse, spoke animatedly to the video camera.

Along the prefectural road that ran along the Miura Coast, cars were lined up like beads on a string. Among them were police and fire department vehicles, media vans, and even Self-Defense Force vehicles that seemed to have come from the Takeyama Garrison in Yokosuka.

The sight of adult shadows plastered to the embankment in a mishmash of colors filled Susumu with disdain.

These adults apparently have too much free time. Bitter thoughts flashed through his mind.

However, his snide thought was quickly crushed by the air that poured down from above. Overhead, a Japan Coast Guard compound helicopter sliced through the sky. On closer inspection, it became clear that press drones were also flying around the iceberg, much like a flock of seabirds searching for food.

Seriously, all this fuss over a chunk of ice.

don't they have anything better to do? He snorted through his nose and pedaled harder.

As I head onwards, are there things I need or want to do?

Realizing himself, he clicked his tongue. The sea breeze that caressed his face, scattering his sweat with each pedal, felt more oppressive than usual today.

Continuing along the prefectural road, a few minutes after entering Yokosuka City from Miura City, he steered inland. Leaving tracks on the narrow, vein-like roads, he crossed Keikyu Tsukuihama Station, weaving through the gaps between houses and fields.

The lackluster school building loomed out from the shadows of the trees, filling one's view with its flat, dull, gray walls. It was an old building showing no signs of renovation. The outdoor pool was surrounded by a mural of a bird named Yusho, painted by an alumnus nineteen years ago, giving off a rather cold impression. This was Kanagawa Prefectural Kitashitaura High School, where Susumu studied.

Honestly, remedial classes are so lame.

He sighed as he locked his bicycle.

Susumu wasn't particularly bad at studying: in fact, he was quite competent. He always made an effort not to show his weaknesses. Yet he was ultimately overwhelmed. Despite barely managing to scrape together the remnants of his nearly depleted motivation, he managed to get through the final exams. However, physics, his weakest subject, remained an insurmountable hurdle to him.

There had been an ongoing slump in his grades since the second term of the previous year. The reason? Probably that he left behind something essential last summer. Dreams, hopes, goals—everything he needed to carry on was gone . . .

What are you doing?!

Hearing this question echo through his mind, he wiped the sweat from under his chin.

In front of him, the keychain attached to his bicycle keys swayed. It was a Calpis bottle keychain given to him by a childhood friend.

It's so uncool, I don't wanna put it on.

When he had resisted, she'd forcibly attached it.

But I got an extra one!

Matching accessories. But now, that was just a faded, insignificant memory.

Hearing things now, huh? I must be losing it.

He snorted in self-mockery. Yet, if she were here—if Amane, who had grown up with him since childhood, were here—she would definitely scold him like that. If she had been around, he wouldn't have been putting on such an embarrassing display of failure.

When will I get permission to see Amane again?

Wiping away his sweat, he left the bicycle parking area. As he approached the dimly lit entrance, he suddenly felt dizzy.

Hey Hane, you should definitely go short again, like when we were in middle school.

Totally agree. Hane has such a pretty face, pushing it forward with a short haircut would definitely look better.

Loud and uninhibited voices leaked out from the classroom where remedial classes were held for all four classes. Susumu, unable to move, stood frozen, his hand on the door. The layered voices weighed heavily on him.

That’s not true. I feel more at ease with long hair.

Among those voices, he recognized one that made his limbs tense up even more.

It was a grumpy voice that hinted at low blood pressure. One he used to hear often from a female friend.

Shouldn't you two be heading to your club activities? you're supposed to be performing at the summer event, aren't you?

Wow, you're so calm. Not even fazed by remedial classes. That’s so you, Hane.

Stop teasing. And drop the formalities, would you?

The high-pitched voices struck up again, drowning out a soft sigh.

By the way, who’s in charge of the remedial classes?

It’s physics, so Mr. Ohaku?

Oh, Mr. Ohaku? He’s a bit of a weirdo, but I guess we got pretty lucky, right?

Really, you two should be going now.

Hane’s always so cool, huh?

Is that what they call the composure of a beauty?

Come on, stop it.

No, but seriously, even back in middle school, you hardly ever had lunch with us. It’s like you were different—oh crap, the club president is yelling at us to hurry.

Whoa, seriously?

Laughter followed, and then footsteps approached rapidly. Susumu, still standing by the door, tensed up.

No need to freak out, okay?

Susumu swallowed nervously.

Whoa, you scared us!

Two flashy high school girls emerged from behind the door, Sumika and Kyoko. Susumu knew them by name: they were loud and conspicuous.

Hey, isn't that Susumu? You’re in remedial classes too?

One of them, Sumika, with her hair half-up, widened her eyes at Susumu's face.

Huh? You’re not in any clubs or anything, right?

Ah, yeah. Well . . .

Huh . . . I always thought you were smarter than me. Surprising.

At that, Susumu stumbled over his words.

It’s not like that. I just messed up this time, or whatever.

His tongue twisted in his mouth. Susumu stood rooted to the spot, unable to utter a sound.

Dammit, Susumu, just say something!

Come on, Sumika, let’s go.

Right. Good luck with your classes!

Yeah, thanks . . .

He watched the two girls walk away.

Hey, wasn't that the guy who used to hang out with Hane?

Oh, what's he like?

Normal. A bit gloomy, though.

Huh, didn't know that.

But seriously, his glaring has gotten worse, it's kinda funny.

Shush, he'll hear you!

. . .

As laughter trailed off into the distance, Susumu finally got the words he should have said to the tip of his tongue.

Smarter than you, bitch.

Hey, why are you just standing there?

Called by a familiar voice, Susumu swallowed the sarcastic remark he had ready and turned his gaze. At the edge of the white classroom window, the graceful trail of a swaying ponytail captured his attention.

Sup.

Hane Aniwa, his classmate, languidly propped her cheek up with her right hand while raising her other hand. Susumu took a breath and replied.

Sup . . .

He raised his hand in response, but his voice didn't carry naturally.

Wait, since when was Hane’s hair long enough to tie back? And . . .

Although Susumu had only known her for a brief time since the first year of high school, something didn't sit right with him.

Round eyes like a pedigree cat, a slightly childish yet neat face, one frail wrist wrapped with a sage-green e-bracelet, light blue nails decorating her fingertips. Her light brown hair, a shade which had barely been within school regulations, now sported a color even brighter, clearly reflecting her carefree summer vacation mood.

Why are you still standing there? Not coming in?

Ah, yeah.

Prompted by Hane’s gaze, Susumu stepped into the classroom. The Hane Aniwa he remembered and the girl before him now somehow felt different, and that slowed his steps.

No, it's fine. I mean, obviously we just haven't really talked much this past year . . .

His eyes fluttered, capturing the familiar face—the contours he knew so well, the brows and eyes he'd seen so many times. Yet seeing her well-formed nose and glossy lips made him hesitant.

Hane Aniwa had always stood out among the girls Susumu had met. If they hadn't coincidentally been in the same class during their first year, or randomly appointed to the same library committee, they probably wouldn't have grown close. She was from a different world, a different stratum.

Yes, unlike Sumika or Kyoko, who typically hung out with flashy girls, Hane was from a different class entirely.

However, Susumu knew that her true charm wasn't in her flashy appearance. She always looked moody, was difficult to approach, and wasn't very talkative, but when you spoke to her, she would respond properly, even laugh. That approachable aloofness was at the core of her appeal.

So, it’s okay. Hane hasn't changed.

The reason, then, that Susumu felt awkward around her wasn't because of her changed appearance, but because of a problem in his own heart. It stemmed from the summer a year ago when he had withdrawn into himself, becoming a pathetic person, afraid of being mocked and abandoned by her.

Erm, Hane . . .

The remnants of their past interaction just barely moved Susumu's tongue. He continued on impulsively.

You have to take remedial classes this year, huh? I had no idea.

Well, I’m pretty bad at all the sciences. Especially physics . . .

Her indifferent reply mixed with the wind blowing through the window, the curtain-intercepted sunbeams awkwardly illuminating the room. Amidst that scenery, Susumu couldn't find a way to carry on their conversation.

You didn't take it last year, did you?

Huh? Oh, well, yeah, I messed up this year. Yeah, I didn't take it last year.

Why? You used to rank, like, fifth in the class.

Why? Well, just 'cause . . . How do you even remember that stuff?

I'm allowed to remember stuff, aren't I . . . ?

Without making eye contact, they conversed in the empty void of the classroom. It would be easier if they just stayed quiet, but they kept on talking.

Usually, people don’t remember that kind of thing.

I have a good memory.

Really?

As Susumu stood next to Hane, the void filled and their conversation halted.

Instead, a gust of sea breeze blew in. The scent, mingling with the smell of the tide, stimulated the depths of Susumu’s nose. His gaze was drawn to her chest. Her shirt unbuttoned down to the second button, a glimpse of a navy blue camisole—like peering into the depths of the sea.

Anyway . . .

At Hane’s voice, Susumu abruptly looked up.

Why don’t you sit down?

Ah, yeah.

He responded ambiguously, intending to sit behind her.

Hey, why are you going behind me?

If she hadn't spoken up, he probably would have made that his permanent spot for the five days of summer remedial classes.

Hane knew that too. Thus, she indicated with her eyes that the desk next to hers was empty.

. . . What?

No, it's just . . . Hane, did you used to dye your hair?

Can we not talk about that?

It's not like I've changed at all.

Her words, delivered without warmth, took Susumu by surprise.

Sorry. I didn't mean it in a bad way . . .

Whatever, it doesn't matter anyway.

Saying that, Hane let out a shallow sigh. That "It doesn't matter anyway" was a lie.

Hane never liked this aspect of boys. They acted like they understood everything just because they noticed a slight change. They thought they understood her, Hane Aniwa, by linking her outside appearance directly with who she was inside, judging her character simply by her looks. But she thought Susumu was different to those superficial boys.

She believed that even if she dyed her hair or painted her nails, he would still see her for who she really was.

Seriously, it’s so hot.

As if to mask the tightness in her chest, Hane fanned the collar of her shirt. In contrast to her cold, detached heart that selfishly expected things only to be disappointed, the world around her remained stiflingly hot.

Well, it is summer after all.

Susumu glanced sideways at her. Her composed face was turned towards the window.

Oh, I've upset her.

Susumu realized immediately. When Hane was in a bad mood, she turned her face to the sky and didn't look back. She had always been like that. When there was something she didn't want to talk about or be involved with, she would quickly shift her gaze outside of this world. When left alone, her mood only got worse, and she became even less talkative.

By the way, is there someone else having to take remedial classes?

Susumu had spotted a bag on the desk next to him.

Who is it?

He rapidly continued the conversation.

Susumu wasn't trying to ingratiate himself with Hane by seeking conversation topics in the classroom. He was afraid of drowning in silence sitting next to someone of the opposite sex, making it seem as if he was inexperienced with interacting with them. He hated the thought of being perceived as a pathetic guy who would go quiet out of consideration for Hane’s mood.

Yeah, Kazuki.

Susumu felt relieved that the conversation had continued, but this time felt flustered for a different reason.

What? Kazuki?

Susumu butted in.

He's super smart, isn't he?

I wouldn't know. But he's probably coming for a different reason. You can join remedial classes voluntarily, even if you’re not failing.

Still, with Kazuki’s grades, wouldn't a summer course at a cram school be better?

Don’t ask me. He’s here, so ask him.

Confronted with her straightforward logic, Susumu fell silent. To think that even Kazuki had shown up—that fact was unbearably harsh. When the three of them gathered, the missing piece couldn't help but be recalled.

At the pause in conversation, a refreshing breeze flowed in. The ponytail tied high on Hane’s head swayed enticingly, brushing a sweet scent across Susumu’s nose.

Hey, Susumu.

Her voice, carried by the wind, made Susumu open up his throat.

What is it?

Doesn't it feel like it’s been a while?

What has?

Talking like this.

. . . Not really.

It has been.

At the end of her words, Hane turned to face Susumu. Her gaze, hiding tumultuous emotions, seared itself into Susumu’s retina. Please stop. Don’t look at me like that.

If I admit that it has, then it confirms that I really avoided you for a whole year.

The viscous emotions tightened Susumu's throat.

Then, relief was brought by the sound of the classroom door swinging open.

It was a tall boy who appeared.

Ah . . . Long time no see, Susumu.

Kazuki Teshio. A male student with longish hair and silver-framed glasses. Despite his nearly six-foot stature, there was nothing intimidating about him. Known for his mild demeanor, he was a mutual friend of Susumu and Hane's.

Susumu and Kazuki had adjacent roll numbers in their freshman year and had met by chance early on.

Uh, yeah, long time no see.

Susumu tentatively raised his right hand.

Ah, yeah. Hey.

Kazuki smoothly raised his hand in response.

Kazuki had this knack. He was skillful. He had served as the freshman representative at the entrance ceremony and had kept top grades in almost all subjects since freshman year. Although he quit the kendo club in the fall of his first year, teachers still regarded him as a model of both academic and athletic prowess. He was just good at life.

Feels like it's been ages since we last talked like this, huh, Susumu?

Yeah, it has been a while.

After instinctively replying, Susumu regretted it. He had pushed Hane away when she tried to approach him, yet here he was, unconsciously accepting the distance he had kept from Kazuki, another guy. It surprised him how shallow he had been.

Yeah. Ever since we ended up in different classes in our second year.

Unaware of the earlier exchange, Kazuki sat down with a genuine smile.

Susumu could tell without looking that Hane had turned her face towards the window.

So, why're you taking remedial classes, Kazuki?

Huh? Oh, well, summer cram school costs money, and the school's remedial classes are free.

But still—

Besides that—

Kazuki cut him off, blocking whatever Susumu was about to say.

I had a feeling I might run into you and Hane if I came here.

Kazuki smiled warmly. With his smooth conversational pace, Susumu forgot what he was going to say.

So, you thought Susumu and I would fail, huh?

Ah, no, that's not it at all.

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

No, really, that's not what I meant . . .

The way Kazuki and Hane talked was so effortless, as if no time had passed. Being stuck between them made Susumu feel a bit awkward. It reminded him of how things were a year ago. Though they were missing one voice, the memory remained clear.

By the way, did you guys see it?

With a quick smile, Kazuki steered the conversation. Even his attempt to escape Hane's questioning felt familiar to Susumu.

Susumu hid his confusion.

See what?

He just followed Kazuki's lead.

The iceberg! I heard the police talking about it on my way here.

Think it'll melt?

Well, eventually, I guess.

Eventually, huh?

Susumu stared blankly at the ceiling.

Well, I guess so.

Yeah, I guess so.

Everyone's making a fuss, but things will go back to normal soon enough.

And then, everyone will forget. Susumu scoffed as he rocked his chair.

Suddenly, the classroom fell silent. Weird. With such an unusual thing happening, why are they getting all solemn? He quickly realized the answer and the back of his throat went cold.

But you know—

Susumu wanted to cover his ears at Hane's words.

Normally, we'd be making more of a fuss.

After breathing, Hane spoke again. It only took that single breath for the three of them to remember the events of the year before. They pictured the summer sky and smelled the sea air. Bright, cheerful voices echoed in their ears, though quieter by one. Together, they remembered her smile and the path to the sea. That memory was elusive yet painfully clear in its brightness.

They could vividly recall the way her black hair danced in the wind.

Along with the words she spoke at that time.

Hey, but you know, it's finally started.

She had spoken those words in a summer that never began.

Our summer vacation!

A single breath. That was all it took for their memories of the year before to resurface—for those three to recall the days they spent together as four.