Shioyaki Lemon stood at a busy intersection, looking somewhat dazed as the traffic light turned from red to green, and then back to red.
The crowd surged past her, everyone having a destination, while she alone didn't know where to go.
Anna and Kin-chan... they had headed off together in another direction.
Shioyaki Lemon let out a soft sigh, holding the unfinished cup of orange juice as she looked for a place to throw it away.
Anna told her to do something else to distract herself.
Something else...
But besides Track and Field and Kouki, was there anything else in her world?
Since Junior High School, her life had been filled with those two things.
Shedding sweat on the track, feeling every heartbeat and the ache of her muscles, was her purest joy.
And in the gaps between training, secretly thinking about talking to Kouki while he quietly read, then walking home together—those were her precious memories.
Shioyaki Lemon shook her head, trying to cast out the image of the boy wearing glasses from her mind.
She couldn't think about it anymore.
The more she thought, the more her heart ached.
She subconsciously looked up toward the school.
As if responding to the most primal urge in her heart, Shioyaki Lemon turned around and started jogging toward the school.
Her pace quickened, her school bag bouncing on her back, but she didn't care in the slightest.
She just wanted to return to that place right now.
The locker room still held the lingering heat and scent of sweat from the day's training; Shioyaki Lemon skillfully changed into her sports tank top and shorts.
The feeling of the tight fabric wrapping around her body finally gave her heart, which had been hanging in mid-air since her defeat, a sense of grounded belonging.
She didn't do any extra warm-ups, but walked straight onto the empty red synthetic track.
The evening breeze carried a hint of coolness, blowing against her exposed skin.
She leaned down, pressing her palms against the rough track, feeling the elastic texture.
This was the place.
Only here could she completely forget all the messy things in her head.
Ayano Mitsuki, Asagumo Chihaya, being a loser...
She took a deep breath and suddenly sprinted forward.
The sound of the wind rushed past her ears as the school buildings and gymnasium quickly receded in her field of vision.
In her world, there was nothing left but the extending track beneath her feet and her own increasingly heavy heartbeats.
Keep running.
As long as she kept running, those troubles wouldn't be able to catch up with her.
...
In Imaizumi Keita's room, only a single desk lamp was lit.
He leaned back against his chair, let out a long breath, and rubbed his aching wrists.
On the laptop screen, the word count of the document had steadily surpassed the fifty-thousand-word mark.
More than half of the first volume of the light novel was finished, and he had mostly sorted out the plot.
He really enjoyed the process of transforming the ideas in his head into concrete words.
It was a creative sense of control, different from the satisfaction he felt when spending time with Anna, but just as addictive.
Just as he was about to get up to get a glass of water from the kitchen, his phone on the corner of the desk received a message from Anna.
He picked up the phone, unlocked it, and entered the chat app.
Then, his movements froze.
On the screen was a photo that had just been sent.
The background of the photo was a bedroom filled with a girlish atmosphere, with cosmetics and accessories scattered on the dressing table.
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