The field didn't return to normal.
It just… pretended to.
Voices came back first.
Then movement.
Then laughter.
But something underneath it had shifted—and it didn't settle.
---
"You're not walking away from this."
Daichi grabbed Haruki's shoulder before he could take another step.
"…I'm not walking away," Haruki said calmly. "I'm just going back to work."
"That's not the point!"
Riku crossed his arms, watching more carefully than reacting.
"No," he said. "It kind of is the point."
Daichi frowned. "What?"
Riku nodded toward Haruki. "Look at him."
Daichi did.
Haruki stood there, expression unchanged.
No pride.
No discomfort.
No reaction that matched what just happened.
"…you're seriously okay with that?" Daichi asked.
"With what?"
"You just told everyone the mayor is your grandfather."
"…because he is."
"That's not normal!"
Haruki tilted his head slightly.
"…it feels normal."
---
A short silence.
Not awkward.
Just… unresolved.
---
"…he's not hiding it," Riku said quietly.
Daichi looked at him. "Then what?"
Riku didn't take his eyes off Haruki.
"…he just doesn't think it matters."
---
That answer didn't sit right.
Not with Daichi.
Not with anyone nearby who had overheard.
But Haruki had already turned away.
---
As he walked, the space around him felt different.
Not visibly.
But—
People stepped aside more quickly.
Voices lowered slightly when he passed.
Eyes followed a second longer than before.
---
It wasn't respect.
Not exactly.
And it wasn't fear.
Just distance.
---
"…this again," Haruki muttered under his breath.
---
"You noticed."
Aoi's voice came from beside him.
He hadn't heard her approach.
"…noticed what?"
She didn't look at him directly.
"The way people move."
Haruki exhaled lightly.
"…they always do that."
Aoi stopped walking.
"…always?"
He paused too.
Just for a second.
"…yeah."
---
That answer came too easily.
---
Aoi watched him.
Not questioning.
Not pushing.
Just… noticing.
---
A teacher called out from across the field.
"Haruki! The mayor is asking for you."
---
Daichi turned immediately. "Of course he is."
Riku raised an eyebrow. "That was fast."
"…go," Daichi said, half serious, half curious. "We'll wait."
---
Haruki didn't argue.
He just walked.
---
The closer he got to the stage area, the quieter it felt.
Not because there were fewer people—
But because everything was more controlled.
---
His grandfather stood near the side, speaking with staff.
When Haruki approached, the conversation ended naturally.
No announcement.
No attention drawn.
---
"You're adjusting well," his grandfather said.
It wasn't a question.
"…yeah."
A small pause.
Then—
"Still nothing?"
---
Haruki frowned.
"…what?"
His grandfather studied him for a moment.
Not long.
But enough.
---
"…focus on what's in front of you," he said, turning slightly. "That's enough for now."
---
That wasn't an answer.
But it ended the conversation.
---
Haruki stood there for a second longer.
"…for now?" he repeated quietly.
---
He turned back.
Walking away felt heavier than before.
Not physically.
Just… something lingering.
---
Near the center of the field, movement caught his attention.
Not sudden.
Not loud.
Just… precise.
---
Someone was giving instructions.
Calmly.
Clearly.
No wasted motion.
---
People listened.
Not because they were told to.
Because it made sense to.
---
Haruki slowed.
Without realizing it.
---
The figure stood with their back slightly turned.
One hand raised briefly—pointing, correcting, adjusting.
Everything around them shifted into place.
---
"…who…"
The word didn't finish.
---
The person turned.
Just slightly.
---
For a moment—
Their line of sight aligned.
---
And something in Haruki's chest tightened.
Not sharp.
Not painful.
Just… unfamiliar.
---
"…there you are."
---
The voice didn't come from the figure.
It came from behind.
---
"Haruki, don't just stand there!"
Daichi waved from across the field. "We still have stuff to do!"
---
The moment broke.
---
When Haruki looked back—
The space had changed.
People moved.
The figure was no longer clear.
---
"…again," he murmured.
---
Back with the group—
"You disappeared," Daichi said immediately.
"I got called."
"No kidding."
Riku watched him more carefully this time.
"…what did he say?"
"…nothing important."
---
Daichi snorted. "That's impossible."
"…it wasn't."
---
Riku didn't respond.
Because something in Haruki's tone didn't match his words.
---
Later—
The rooftop was quiet.
Wind moved gently across the railing.
---
"You're getting closer."
---
Haruki didn't turn this time.
"…to what?"
---
The girl stepped into view anyway.
Same calm expression.
Same steady presence.
---
"To remembering."
---
He leaned slightly against the railing.
"…I don't remember anything."
"That's not true."
---
Her answer came too quickly to argue.
---
"You remember enough to hesitate," she continued.
"Enough to stop."
"Enough to look in the right direction."
---
Haruki looked at her.
"…then why don't I understand it?"
---
For the first time—
She paused.
---
"…because understanding comes last."
---
The wind shifted.
Carrying a faint chill.
---
"Not everyone is waiting the same way," she added quietly.
---
Haruki frowned slightly.
"…what does that mean?"
---
But she had already stepped back.
Not disappearing—
Just… no longer part of the moment.
---
By evening, the field had emptied.
Almost.
---
Haruki stood near the edge again.
The same place.
But it didn't feel the same anymore.
---
Voices echoed faintly from a distance.
Someone calling out—
"Hey! Ace—over here!"
---
Haruki turned.
---
This time—
There was no blur.
No confusion.
---
A figure stood clearly in the fading light.
Tall.
Still.
Facing slightly away.
---
Real.
---
Haruki's breath slowed.
---
"…Shin…"
---
The name came out before he could stop it.
---
The figure paused.
---
Just slightly.
---
But Haruki didn't move.
Didn't step forward.
Didn't call again.
---
A moment passed.
---
Then—
The figure turned.
And walked away.
---
The distance returned.
---
Haruki stood there.
Unmoving.
---
"…why didn't I stop him?"
---
The wind didn't answer.
But this time—
It didn't feel empty.
It felt like something had already been lost once.
And was slipping again.