The late afternoon sky stretched across the horizon, painted in soft hues of orange and pink. Aika stood on the rooftop of the school, the crisp autumn breeze ruffling her hair as she leaned against the railing.
It had been two weeks since the festival. Two weeks since that moment with Riku.
And yet, something still felt off.
She had spent the past few days trying to shake the feeling, convincing herself it was nothing. But no matter how many times she pushed it aside, the unease always returned.
She could still hear his voice in her head.
"I wish this moment could last forever."
It hadn't sounded like a simple wish. It had sounded like a goodbye.
Aika tightened her grip on the railing, exhaling as the wind brushed against her skin.
Maybe she was just being overly sensitive.
Or maybe… maybe she was right to be worried.
She didn't know which scared her more.
---
A Late Afternoon Promise
"Aika!"
The sound of her name broke through her thoughts. She turned to see Riku stepping onto the rooftop, his hands tucked into his pockets, his usual relaxed expression in place.
Aika straightened, masking her surprise. "You didn't answer my text," he said as he walked over.
Aika blinked. "You texted me?"
Riku sighed, pulling out his phone. "Yeah. Three hours ago."
Aika quickly pulled out her own phone. Sure enough, there was a message waiting for her.
Riku: Wanna hang out after school?
She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't even noticed.
"…Sorry."
Riku raised an eyebrow. "You good?"
Aika hesitated. For a brief moment, she considered telling him the truth—that something about him had been bothering her, that she was scared of the answer she might find.
But instead, she forced a smirk. "Yeah. Just distracted."
Riku studied her for a moment before shrugging. "Well, if you're free now, wanna head to the art room? You did promise to teach me how to draw."
Aika let out a laugh. "I don't know if I have the energy to fix that disaster."
"Hey," he said, mock-offended. "I think I'm improving."
Aika rolled her eyes but followed him anyway.
Even if something felt off, she could still pretend—at least for a little while—that everything was normal.
---
The Art Room – An Unfinished Sketch
The art room was empty by the time they arrived, the setting sun casting long streaks of gold across the floor. The faint scent of paint and graphite filled the air, familiar and comforting.
Riku flopped into a chair, grabbing his sketchbook. "Alright, sensei. Where do we start?"
Aika leaned over, peering at his latest drawing. It was another attempt at a portrait—though this time, the proportions were slightly better. Not good, but better.
She smirked. "Well, at least this one doesn't look possessed."
Riku groaned. "Great feedback. Really helpful."
Aika grabbed a pencil, nudging his hand aside. "Here. Let me show you."
As she guided his strokes, correcting his angles and explaining the basics of shading, Riku listened quietly. He wasn't usually this patient. Normally, he got frustrated when things didn't come easily to him.
But today, he seemed different.
Calm.
Focused.
Like he was trying to savor the moment.
Aika bit her lip.
"…You're taking this seriously," she muttered.
Riku chuckled. "Well, I did say I wanted to capture something."
That strange feeling returned—like an invisible thread pulling at her heart.
"Why?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
Riku hesitated, his pencil pausing against the page.
"…I don't know," he finally said. "I just… don't want to forget."
Forget what?
Aika opened her mouth to ask, but before she could, Riku suddenly grinned. "Anyway, how's my progress?"
She frowned but let it go. For now.
"…Still terrible," she said, smirking.
He groaned, tossing his pencil onto the desk. "Hopeless."
Aika chuckled, leaning back in her chair.
For a moment, everything felt normal again.
And yet, as she glanced at Riku's sketchbook, she noticed something strange.
Tucked between the pages was an unfinished drawing—one that wasn't his usual disaster.
It was a sketch of the festival. The glowing lanterns, the quiet streets, the silhouette of two people standing together beneath the sky.
It was rough, incomplete.
But there was something about it—something raw and honest.
Aika reached for it, but before she could, Riku quickly closed the book.
She looked up at him, startled.
His smile was still there, but something in his eyes was different.
Something distant.
"…It's not done yet," he said quietly.
Aika swallowed.
For some reason, those words sent a chill down her spine.
---
A Sunset and a Question
They left the school just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky fading from orange to deep blue. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves.
As they walked, Aika glanced at Riku.
He was quiet.
Too quiet.
She wanted to say something—to ask about the drawing, about what he meant when he said he didn't want to forget.
But she was scared.
Scared of the answer.
So instead, she asked something else.
"…What do you want to do in the future?"
Riku blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"
"I mean, after high school," Aika clarified. "You ever think about it?"
He was silent for a long moment.
Then, he smiled—a soft, almost bittersweet smile.
"…I just want to make good memories," he said.
Aika frowned. "That's not a real answer."
He chuckled. "Maybe not."
She narrowed her eyes. "Come on. You've never thought about it? What about music?"
Riku hesitated.
"…Yeah," he admitted. "Music's important to me. But more than that, I just… I don't know. I want to be present."
Aika's heart clenched.
Something about the way he said it made her want to grab his hand and hold on.
But she didn't.
She just kept walking beside him, watching as the last light of the day faded into the night.
And in the back of her mind, one thought refused to leave her.
Why does it feel like you're running out of time?