Chapter 8: The Following Week

Haruka went to school and searched for Mao, but it seemed she hadn’t arrived yet.
Even when the warning bell rang, and even when the bell for the start of class rang, Mao’s seat remained empty.

During the morning homeroom, Haruka was confronted with a shocking truth.
Mao had been reported missing.
She wasn’t at home, and no one had been able to reach her.

Haruka was told that Nezu’s family had also filed a missing person report, but she was too worried about Mao to think about anything else.

From that point on, Haruka’s memory was hazy.
Although she appeared calm, most of her thoughts had been consumed by worry for Mao.

Among some of her irresponsible classmates, whispers of “running away together” had even begun to circulate.
Haruka didn’t believe such rumors, but if that wasn’t the case, then it was possible they had been caught up in some incident or accident.
If anything, that possibility felt even more painful.

Even though Haruka was a rokurokubi, she had no abilities that could help with the search, nor did she have any connections.
She was nothing more than a third-year middle school girl whose neck could only extend.

If there was anyone she could turn to, it would be Tsumugi, who came from the same hometown, though she didn’t have any particular skill suited for a search either.
Even so, as always, Haruka gave her a call and poured out her feelings.

Tsumugi’s words were rough and blunt, yet Haruka could tell that she was worried about her.
It didn’t bring them any closer to a solution, but somehow, she felt just a little lighter.

As she lay face down on her bed, lost in troubled thoughts, it seemed she had fallen asleep at some point, still in her uniform.
When she looked at the clock, it was two in the morning.

Wanting to get a little night air, she stepped out onto the balcony.
There was a single cat there.

Its fur, illuminated by the light from the room, looked soft and fluffy, and it didn’t seem to be a stray.
Haruka’s apartment was on the second floor of the building, so it wasn’t impossible for a cat to wander in.

When she crouched down and took a closer look at its face, her eyes met its distinctive odd eyes—one blue and one gold.

The cat placed its front paws on Haruka’s knees and stretched its body, then rubbed its head against her cheek and licked her with its rough tongue.

Then it leapt up onto the railing and let out a long “meowww,” and when it finished, it fixed its gaze on Haruka.

What Haruka remembered was that moment behind the gym, when she had been called out and spoken to Mao.
“…Is that you, Mao?”

Haruka reached out her hand, but the cat jumped down before she could catch it and landed on the road, its hazy silhouette looking up at her.

“…Wait.”
The words slipped from her lips in a small voice.
The cat averted its gaze as if reluctant, then ran off, melting into the darkness.

As if chasing after it, as if hoping her voice might reach Mao even just a little.
Before she knew it, her neck had extended. She was shouting.
“Mao! I love you!”

Her voice echoed through the quiet residential neighborhood at midnight.

She didn’t know whether her voice had reached her.
But Mao was alive.
Haruka was relieved by that fact alone.

She went back into her room, sat down on the bed, picked up her phone, and opened a picture of Mao.

“Mao, let’s definitely see each other again.”