I stood at the school gate, hands tucked in my pockets, eyes low, watching the slow trickle of students walking past me. Most of them barely noticed I was there. I preferred it that way.
But today was different.
I saw her before she saw me—Hikari, standing by the entrance, bouncing slightly on her heels like a kid waiting for a secret. She didn't say anything, just stared straight ahead with a calm little smile, as if she *knew* I was watching.
Her words from yesterday echoed in my mind.
> "To really thank me for the food… I want you to be the one to greet me tomorrow. I'll wait."
I took a breath. Shallow. Quick. My throat was dry like I'd swallowed dust. I didn't know why it was so hard. It was just two words.
I walked toward her. Closer. She didn't move. Her smile twitched, just slightly.
"Good morning," I said.
Her head whipped toward me, eyes wide in pure joy. "You said it!"
Then she did something ridiculous—she threw her arms up like she just won a prize, then immediately covered her face, half-laughing, half-squeaking.
"I didn't think you'd *actually* say it! I mean—I *hoped*, but… wow."
She turned toward me, grinning.
"You sound different in the morning," she said. "A little less like a ghost, and a little more like a… soft grumpy cat."
"A… what?" I blinked.
"Grumpy cat," she repeated seriously. "But soft. Like, if I poked you, you'd complain, but not move away."
"I wouldn't let you poke me," I muttered.
She gasped like I'd insulted her soul. "That's not very grumpy cat of you."
I shook my head, biting down a smile before it could betray me.
---
In class, she talked to me again. This time, I answered—not just with nods, but actual words. Quiet ones. Careful ones.
She asked me what music I liked. I told her I didn't really listen to much, but I used to like piano instrumentals.
She asked me what I wanted to be after school. I told her I didn't know. That seemed to disappoint her for a second, but then she nodded.
"That's okay," she said. "You still have time."
The words hit me harder than they should've.
Time.
Only 95 days.
I didn't say anything. Just looked out the window again. She didn't push. She never did.
---
After school, we walked together again, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her bag swung from side to side as she walked. She talked about how she tripped on her bedsheet this morning and almost destroyed her alarm clock. I said she probably had it coming for setting seven alarms.
That made her laugh too loudly. A couple students turned to stare.
When we reached the corner where our paths split, she stopped and turned to me.
"Thanks for talking to me more today," she said.
"…It wasn't much."
"It *was*," she insisted, smiling. "You said whole *sentences*. I'm putting that on my achievement board."
I rolled my eyes. "You have an achievement board?"
"Mentally, yeah. It's full of stickers and gold stars."
"…Right."
She laughed again. And then her expression softened a little.
"Oh—before I forget. Tomorrow… I won't say anything first, okay?"
I looked at her, puzzled.
"You have to greet me again. It has to come from you."
I sighed. "Is this going to be a thing now?"
"It already is," she grinned. "Don't lose your streak, Kazuki."
She waved, walking off with her usual spring in her step. I watched her disappear down the street.
Then I turned, walking my own way. But this time, I felt it again—that strange warmth I didn't know how to name.
And maybe, just maybe, I didn't want it to go away.
But the thought of her having 92 more days left, was heart breaking