Facing Shiina Taki’s questioning, Kiyotaka did not answer directly, but instead slightly raised his hand and pointed at the schoolbag strap she was gripping tightly in her hand.
Taki lowered her head following his finger.
At the end of the schoolbag strap hung a small wooden drumstick-shaped pendant.
That was an item she usually used for decoration, and on the side of that tiny drumstick, two clear characters were carved: Shiina.
Taki was slightly stunned, and her originally tense shoulders relaxed a bit.
So he just saw the pendant…
Before she could fully let out a sigh of relief, Kiyotaka’s gaze had already shifted from the pendant to her hand.
“You play in a Band?
A drummer?”
Hearing these words, Taki’s brows furrowed again.
She did not like others prying too much into her private affairs, especially a strange boy she had known for less than five minutes who exuded strangeness all over.
She irritably clicked her tongue with a “Tch” and averted her gaze.
“…
None of your business.”
An awkward silence filled the air.
After two seconds, Taki also seemed to feel that treating someone who had just helped her with such a terrible attitude was too harsh.
She bit her lower lip, and with an awkward tone that could hardly be called frank, she quickly stole a glance at Ayanokouji:
“…
However, for what just happened, thanks anyway.”
After saying this, as if fleeing from something, she immediately turned around and walked briskly away in the opposite direction of Ayanokouji.
Kiyotaka stood in place, watching her figure gradually blend into the crowd, and withdrew his gaze.
If they were to form a complete Band, the drummer was undoubtedly an indispensable role.
He looked up at the sky.
The sun had completely sunk behind the buildings, the sky was dyed a deep orange-red, and the streetlights along the road began to light up one by one.
Kiyotaka confirmed the time in his mind.
If ordinary high school girls hung out with friends after school or went to deal with some private matters, by this time point, it should be about time to say goodbye to each other at the intersection and go home separately.
Thinking this, he moved his steps again.
Only this time, the footsteps accelerated a little bit.
Not to the point of running, but half a beat faster than the aimless pacing from just now.
…
Twilight was falling.
After passing through several blocks, Kiyotaka came near the overpass from yesterday.
Beneath the stairs of the overpass, he stopped beside a flower bed belonging to a nearby residential area.
“It seems my luck is good today.”
Looking at the scene ahead, Kiyotaka muttered in a voice only he could hear.
Just less than ten meters away from him, that gray-haired girl who had been solidly tackled by Sakiko on the overpass yesterday was currently squatting alone beside the roadside flower bed.
There was no one else around, and the girl seemed to be holding something in her hands, looking down at it in a daze.
Kiyotaka did not immediately go up to speak, but instead chose to stand within a safe distance where he would not be noticed by the other party, observing quietly.
According to the observation on the overpass yesterday, Sakiko was undoubtedly an extremely emotional person.
Facing a stranger about to “commit suicide”, she could pounce forward without hesitation and say lines like “Flowers are also lives”.
When such a person made choices, such as choosing the “members” of her future Band, her judgment criteria would most likely focus more on subjective “feelings” or some kind of “bonds” rather than objective “ability” and “efficiency”.
The afterglow of the sunset shone quietly on the girl’s short gray hair, casting a faint and soft halo along the edges of her strands.
She seemed completely unaware that someone was approaching from behind, her entire person seemingly isolated in a transparent bubble, all her attention immersed in the withered flower about to fall in her hands.
A focused and fragile serenity.
If Sakiko’s action logic was driven by “feelings”, then, in order to control the core target Sakiko, he must also strive to understand what that “feeling” she mentioned actually was.
And the gray-haired girl in front of him who could make her produce a strong emotional resonance was undoubtedly the best analytical sample.
Through her, try to understand that unknown variable.
Thinking thus, Kiyotaka took both hands out of his pockets.
And walked towards the gray-haired girl beside the flower bed.
Even as Ayanokouji approached, her entire being remained immersed in her inner world.
But that state was not absolute closure, more like an unconscious “overflow”.
As if waiting for someone to just catch and understand her.
“This flower is about to wither.” Kiyotaka spoke calmly.
The girl named Takamatsu Tomori was slightly stunned and turned her head to look at the source of the sound.
In her eyes, there was no strong vigilance and hostility like the girl surnamed Shiina just now; instead, she was more like a small, insecure animal, who, after briefly confirming that the other party was not an aggressive predator, produced a passive acceptance of “fine, you can stay here”.
“Mm…
The edges of the petals are already starting to curl up.” Takamatsu Tomori’s voice was very soft.
Kiyotaka squatted down beside her, at a distance where they could hear each other’s voices clearly without making her feel uneasy.
Ayanokouji looked at the flower and did not respond immediately.
Without explaining the motive for initiating the conversation, he instead tried to imagine her inner world and asked:
“After the flower withers, what will it turn into?”
This was sincere incomprehension.
In that facility called the White Room, no one had ever taught him the meaning of “withering”.
There were only “completed” and “incomplete”, “valuable” and “losing value and being eliminated”.
There were simply no redundant emotions of value still existing after the end.
Takamatsu Tomori slightly tilted her head, her pink eyes looking at him quietly.
“…
It will turn into soil.” She answered softly, “Then, new flowers will grow from there.”
She paused, and her gaze fell back onto the petals, “So, it hasn’t truly disappeared.”
Kiyotaka thought about this logic in his mind for a moment.
Soon he found that the girl in front of him seemed to be answering a question she herself had repeatedly questioned on her own.
She was using her own way to understand “loss”, and then shared this cherished understanding with someone who happened to pass by.
“I see.” Kiyotaka nodded seriously.
Takamatsu Tomori blinked her eyes, her lips moving slightly, “You…
also think this way?”
“I don’t know.
I never thought about things like ‘after a flower withers’ before.”
Kiyotaka stated the fact in a completely flat tone, “However, what you said seems to be right.”
Hearing this answer, Tomori’s mouth twitched slightly.
Perhaps it couldn’t be counted as a complete smile, but it was very close.
In the subsequent intermittent and seemingly illogical casual chat, the atmosphere relaxed.
“There are so many things I can’t figure out…” Tomori murmured as if talking to herself, “But yesterday someone told me that my thoughts are very interesting.”
Kiyotaka listened quietly without interrupting.
“The diary I wrote…
those messy words, she said, can turn into ‘music’…
can be sung out as ‘lyrics’…”
The quirky outpouring echoed softly beside the flower bed, and the atmosphere was unexpectedly harmonious.
After chatting for a few more sentences, Takamatsu Tomori raised her head and glanced at a window of a nearby residential building.
Kiyotaka looked in the direction of her gaze.
The height of the window was roughly on the third floor, which was also precisely the direction where she pulled Sakiko away to treat her wounds yesterday.
She probably lived inside there, Kiyotaka thought.
“This…
for you.”
Takamatsu Tomori’s voice sounded again.
She reached her hand into her pocket, fumbled for a moment, took out a Band-aid, and handed it over gently.
“A penguin?” Kiyotaka looked at the cartoon print on the packaging.
“Mm.” Tomori nodded seriously, “They huddle together for warmth.
In very cold places.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Without waiting for Kiyotaka to respond, Takamatsu Tomori stood up and walked toward the building where her gaze had lingered just now.
Kiyotaka stood in place, looking at the penguin Band-aid in the palm of his hand.
In human social behavioral science, exchanging small objects with no practical utility value is usually regarded as an anchor point for establishing preliminary trust and emotional connection.
Kiyotaka put the Band-aid into his pocket and turned to walk towards the train station.