3: The Message

I stared at the screen, scrolling through Rena’s old messages.
Everyday chats, school updates, reminders about what to bring the next day—and of course, her personal weather forecasts that were almost always hilariously wrong.
Each message made my chest feel heavier.

“…How am I supposed to find that one email in all of this?”

I hated English. Always have. Probably always will.
The arrangement of the letters felt like they were staring right at me—like some kind of alphabet monster, glaring with every curve and serif.
Honestly, part of me hoped I’d never find the English message Rena supposedly sent me.

That would’ve been easier. English just never clicked with me.
Too many rules, and all those weird spellings…
I know Rena loves it, but I’d rather wrestle with a poem than read her emails in English.

“Quit staring at me like that, you freaky letters!”

Was something wrong with me? No, it couldn’t be.
Everyone has something they’re bad at, right? Trypophobia? Globophobia?
I looked up all sorts of phobias online, trying to match what I felt. None of them quite fit.
It reminded me of a fever dream I had as a kid—a nightmare where thousands of eyeballs fell from the sky, slowly crawling into my mouth...

---

"Hey, Tom... How’ve you been?"

“WAAAAAHHHHHH!!”

I jolted awake, tumbling off the bed with a yell.
Guess I’d dozed off while reading through the messages.

“…Maybe I should take a bath or something… huh?”

Something was staring back at me—from the screen of my phone.
I climbed back into bed and opened the email, bracing myself.

---

What’s the difference between “like” and “love”?

“…I finally found it.”

I tried to sound casual, like it wasn’t a big deal.
But my heart was pounding so hard, I could barely stay calm.

I pretended not to notice.
You were always by my side—my childhood friend, always fussing over me…
You grew so beautiful… and…

“I don’t need a translation... I know exactly what you mean...”

Tears welled up in my eyes.
That little “passing drizzle” during our fight in the park—now it came back as a downpour.
If only I had said something different that day… If only she was still here...

“Where did you go, Rena...?”

It had been a week since the police issued a missing person report.
Apparently, suspicious individuals had been seen near the park, and the police believed she might have been caught up in something.

“…Clues… I feel like I missed something…”

With that thought, I dashed out of the house and ran toward the park under the cover of night.