The Boy Who Was Not Chosen LAST PART

"I'm fine."

"You always say that."

"Because people keep asking."

She studied me for a moment, then gave a small, almost frustrated smile.

"You know, you don't have to be fine every second."

I looked away.

The sentence was familiar.

She had said something similar before.

And every time she said it, I wanted to believe her.

"Maybe," I answered.

Miyu seemed satisfied with that small response.

"Come on. The festival's almost over. There's supposed to be a final announcement soon."

"I still have to return these."

"Then return them quickly."

"Are you ordering me around?"

"Yes."

"You're getting used to it."

She smiled.

"I think you're getting used to listening."

I wanted to tell her that I would listen to her for a long time.

That I wanted to hear her voice tomorrow.

And the day after that.

That even the smallest moments with her had become important to me.

But the words remained behind my teeth.

Not yet.

After the festival, I told myself.

After everything settled down.

After I found the right moment.

I had been saying that for days.

Maybe weeks.

The sky outside the windows had begun to darken.

The festival lights flickered on one by one, glowing softly against the approaching evening.

For a brief second, the floor beneath my shoes seemed to tremble.

It was so faint that I wondered if I had imagined it.

Then the windows rattled.

Only once.

Miyu looked toward the glass.

"Did you feel that?"

I stared at the window.

The courtyard was still crowded. Students continued laughing. Someone shouted from the gym. A teacher called for everyone to gather near the stage.

Nothing had changed.

"Probably a truck," I said.

Miyu nodded slowly.

"Probably."

Neither of us looked convinced.

Then the final announcement began.

The speakers crackled.

The students cheered.

And, surrounded by the noise of an ordinary school festival, I made a promise to myself.

Tomorrow, I would tell Miyu how I felt.

No more excuses.

No more postponing.

Tomorrow, I would finally say the words I had been carrying for so long.

The next morning, I woke before my alarm.

For several seconds, I remained still beneath the thin blanket, staring at the ceiling.

Today.

The word appeared in my mind before anything else.

Today, I would tell Miyu.

I had repeated the sentence so many times that it no longer felt like a decision. It felt like a task I had delayed for too long.

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked toward the empty chair near the table.

"Morning, Grandpa."

The room gave no answer.

It never did.

After breakfast, I checked my phone.

There was a message from Miyu.

Miyu: Are you coming to school early today?

Miyu: I need help with something.

I stared at the screen.

My heart began beating faster.

Me: I'll be there soon.

Her reply arrived almost immediately.

Miyu: Okay! Don't disappear before I find you.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

The school was still crowded when I arrived.

The festival decorations remained everywhere. Paper lanterns hung from the railings, posters covered the walls, and several classrooms had left their doors open. The building looked as though it had not yet recovered from the previous day.

Miyu found me near the staircase.

"There you are."

"You said you needed help."

"I do."

"With what?"

She pointed toward a box beside the wall.

"Those decorations need to be stored in the equipment room. I was going to carry them myself, but…"

"You decided to emotionally count the boxes again?"

She placed a hand over her chest.

"That was one time."

"There are four boxes."

"I counted four."

"Progress."

She gave me an offended look before smiling.

We carried the boxes together.

The work was simple, and for a while, neither of us spoke. Sunlight entered through the tall windows, stretching across the floor in pale rectangles.

When we reached the equipment room, Miyu placed her box down and brushed dust from her hands.

"Thank you."

"You could have asked someone else."

"I wanted to ask you."

The words were ordinary.

Her tone was ordinary.

But my mind held on to them as if they meant something more.

I set my box beside hers.

"Why?"

Miyu looked at me.

"Because you always help."

"That's not a very good reason."

"It is to me."

My chest tightened.

There it was again.

That kindness.

That effortless warmth.

The same thing that had made me begin looking forward to school.

The same thing that had made me imagine a future I had never allowed myself to imagine before.

I could say it now.

Miyu, I like you.

The words were ready.

They had been ready for days.

"Miyu—"

A sudden sound interrupted me.

At first, it was only a low rumble beneath the floor.

Then the windows began to shake.

The metal shelves in the equipment room rattled violently. A box fell from the top shelf and struck the ground.

Miyu's eyes widened.

"Is that—?"

The building lurched.

The floor moved beneath us.

Not like a truck passing outside.

Not like a small vibration.

The entire school seemed to groan.

"Earthquake!" someone shouted from the hallway.

The lights flickered.

A second later, the shaking grew stronger.

Miyu lost her balance.

I reached for her arm and pulled her away from the shelves just as another box fell where she had been standing.

"Get down!" I shouted.

We crouched beside the wall while the room trembled around us.

The sound was overwhelming.

Metal struck metal. Glass rattled in its frame. Somewhere outside, people were screaming. The ceiling creaked as though the building itself were struggling to remain upright.

Miyu gripped my sleeve.

"Akira!"

"I'm here!"

"Is it going to stop?"

"I don't know!"

It was the first honest answer I could give her.

The shaking continued for what felt like several minutes, though it may have been much less.

Then, slowly, the movement weakened.

The shelves stopped rattling.

The lights steadied.

A strange silence settled over the room.

Not true silence.

There were still footsteps, frightened voices, and alarms echoing through the building.

But compared to the earthquake, it felt almost peaceful.

Miyu remained crouched beside me, her fingers still gripping my sleeve.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"You?"

"No."

She looked at the fallen boxes, then toward the doorway.

"We should get outside."

"Stay away from the windows."

We moved carefully through the hallway.

Students and teachers were gathering in the courtyard, following instructions shouted by the staff. Some students were crying. Others were calling their families. A few stood frozen, staring at the school building as though they could not understand what had happened.

Miyu looked around anxiously.

"Where's Kaito?"

"I don't know."

"He was near the gym."

"We should find a teacher first."

"But—"

"Miyu."

She turned toward me.

"If the building is damaged, going back inside is dangerous."

She pressed her lips together, then nodded.

"All right."

We remained in the courtyard for nearly an hour.

Teachers checked attendance. Students were told to stay away from the buildings until the school could confirm they were safe. The sky above us was clear, almost unnaturally clear, with no clouds to suggest that anything had changed.

Eventually, a teacher announced that students could collect their belongings from the classrooms in small groups.

Miyu looked toward the main building.

"I left my phone charger in the classroom."

"You can get it later."

"I need my phone."

"You have your phone."

She looked down.

The device was already in her hand.

"Oh."

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

Then, despite everything, she laughed.

It was a nervous laugh, but it was still a laugh.

"You're not allowed to mention that again."

"I'll remember it forever."

"Akira."

"All right."

For a moment, the tension eased.

Then another tremor passed beneath our feet.

It was smaller than the first, but strong enough to make everyone stop moving.

The courtyard fell silent.

Miyu's smile disappeared.

The teacher shouted for everyone to remain calm.

I looked toward the sky.

The sunlight seemed strangely pale.

A flock of birds burst from the trees near the far side of the school, scattering in every direction.

Then my phone vibrated.

A message from my part-time manager appeared on the screen.

Manager: Don't come in today. The trains are being suspended. Stay safe.

I read it twice.

The trains were suspended.

That meant the earthquake was not limited to our neighborhood.

It was larger than I had first imagined.

Miyu looked at my phone.

"Is everything okay?"

"The trains are suspended."

Her expression grew serious.

"Then we should probably go home."

"Probably."

But before we could move, a teacher called out to us.

"Students! Due to the continuing tremors, no one is to leave alone. Stay with your assigned groups until your guardians arrive or transportation is arranged."

The word guardians passed through the courtyard.

Several students immediately began calling their parents.

I lowered my phone.

Miyu noticed.

"Akira…"

"I'll be fine."

"I didn't ask that."

"I know."

She hesitated.

Then she said quietly, "You can stay with me."

The sentence struck somewhere deeper than it should have.

I looked at her.

She seemed to realize how it sounded and quickly added, "I mean, until everything is settled. You shouldn't have to wait alone."

I nodded.

"Okay."

A few hours later, after the school confirmed that the main building was safe enough to enter briefly, we were allowed to retrieve our belongings.

The courtyard had become too crowded, so a teacher directed several groups toward the rooftop observation area, where the open space was considered safer while the classrooms were checked.

Miyu and I followed the others up the stairs.

The rooftop door opened with a metallic creak.

Wind swept across the open space, carrying the distant sounds of the city.

From there, Osaka looked unfamiliar.

Traffic had slowed. Several buildings had lost power. Thin columns of dust rose in the distance, and emergency sirens echoed between the streets.

Miyu stepped toward the railing but stopped a safe distance away.

"Everything looks so small from here."

I stood beside her.

"Small things can still be dangerous."

She glanced at me.

"That sounded like something an old man would say."

"I learned from one."

Her expression softened.

"Your grandfather?"

I nodded.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she asked, "Do you think everyone will be okay?"

"I hope so."

"You don't sound very confident."

"I don't want to lie."

Miyu looked toward the city again.

"I'm scared."

The words were so quiet that the wind nearly carried them away.

I turned toward her.

"You don't have to pretend you aren't."

She looked at me with surprise.

Then she smiled faintly.

"Neither do you."

I wanted to answer.

I wanted to tell her that I was scared too.

Not only because of the earthquake.

Not only because the world seemed to be shifting beneath our feet.

I was scared because I had finally found something I wanted to keep.

And everything I had ever wanted to keep had eventually disappeared.

"Miyu," I said.

She turned toward me.

The rooftop trembled.

Only slightly.

But this time, neither of us mistook it for a passing truck.

A deep rumble rose from beneath the city.

The railing shook.

The ground tilted.

Miyu stumbled backward.

I reached for her hand.

"Hold on!"

She grabbed me, and together we struggled

to remain standing as the earthquake returned with greater force.

The sky seemed to spin.

The rooftop filled with shouting.

Somewhere behind us, the door slammed open.

A crack spread across the concrete near our feet.

Miyu's grip tightened around my hand.

"Akira!"

"I have you!"

But the ground beneath us shifted again.

And this time, the railing behind me broke.

The railing broke with a sound I would remember for the rest of my life.

Metal tore away from its supports.

The section behind me collapsed outward, leaving nothing between my back and the open air.

For one brief moment, I felt weightless.

Then my foot slipped.

"Akira!"

Miyu's voice cut through the roar of the earthquake.

I fell backward, but my hand caught the remaining edge of the railing. Pain shot through my arms as my body swung over the side of the rooftop.

Below me, the school building dropped away.

The courtyard looked impossibly distant.

Students were running in every direction, but their voices had become faint and distorted. Dust rose from the streets beyond the school grounds. The entire city seemed to be trembling beneath a sky that had suddenly become too wide.

I held on.

My fingers tightened around the cold metal.

"Miyu!"

She was lying on the rooftop, one hand gripping the concrete. Her face was pale, and her hair whipped across her eyes.

"Don't let go!" she shouted.

"I'm trying!"

The earthquake continued.

The rooftop shook beneath her. She crawled toward me, pressing her body low against the ground.

Then another figure appeared behind her.

Kaito.

He had bloodless dust across his uniform and a cut near his forehead, but he was still moving.

"Miyu!" he called. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she answered. "Akira's hanging over the edge!"

Kaito looked toward me.

For the first time since I had known him, his expression held no trace of calm.

"Can you pull him up?"

"I can't reach him!"

Kaito dropped to the ground and moved beside her.

"Give me your hand."

Miyu reached for him.

He caught her wrist, then leaned forward and extended his other hand toward me.

"Nakamura! Grab my hand!"

I looked at him.

His hand was only a short distance away.

I reached upward.

Our fingers touched.

For one second, I thought I might be able to climb back.

Then the rooftop shifted again.

Kaito's body slid forward, and Miyu cried out as she struggled to hold him.

"Don't move!" Kaito shouted.

"I'm not moving!"

My grip slipped.

Kaito reached farther.

"Come on! Take my hand!"

I stretched as far as I could.

Our fingers met again.

But he was too far away.

And I was too heavy.

The remaining metal bent beneath my weight.

A sharp sound came from above me.

I looked up.

The railing was tearing loose from the concrete.

"Miyu," I said.

She stared at me.

"Please," I continued. "You need to move back."

"No!"

"If this breaks, you'll fall too."

"I'm not leaving you!"

Her voice cracked.

For a moment, I almost believed her.

That was the cruelest part.

Not the height.

Not the shaking ground.

Not even the fear.

It was the small, fragile hope that appeared when she said she would not leave me.

I had spent so long trying not to expect anything from people.

And yet, without realizing it, I had begun expecting something from her.

Something I had never asked her to give.

Kaito tightened his grip on Miyu's wrist.

"Miyu, listen to me! We need to get you away from the edge!"

"No! Akira is still—"

"I know!"

He looked at me again.

"Nakamura, hold on!"

I tried.

I truly tried.

But my arms were losing strength.

My fingers had begun to numb.

The world above me shook in fragments: Miyu's frightened face, Kaito's outstretched hand, the pale sky behind them.

Two people.

One hand reaching toward me.

One person trying to save me.

And still, somehow, I felt as though I was standing outside the scene, watching it happen to someone else.

"Miyu," I said again.

She leaned toward me.

"What?"

There were so many things I wanted to say.

I wanted to tell her that I had liked her since the day she lent me her notes.

That I remembered every small kindness she had shown me.

That the sandwich she gave me, the umbrella she shared, and the crooked paper star she kept had all become precious to me.

I wanted to tell her that I had been afraid to confess because I did not want to lose the little place I had in her life.

But now there was no time left for careful words.

No time left for tomorrow.

So I said the sentence I had postponed for so long.

"Miyu… I like you."

Her eyes widened.

The earthquake seemed to fade for a moment.

"I've liked you for a long time," I said. "I wanted to tell you after the festival. I kept thinking there would be another chance."

"Akira…"

"I'm sorry I waited."

"Don't say that!" she cried. "Just hold on!"

I smiled.

It was strange.

Even then, I was more worried about making her cry than about myself.

Kaito shifted his position, trying to get a better grip on the concrete.

"Miyu, I need both hands. Move back."

"No!"

"If you stay here, we'll all fall!"

She looked at him.

Then she looked at me.

I saw the decision forming in her eyes before she spoke.

That was when I understood.

Not because she hated me.

Not because she wanted me to disappear.

But because her heart had already chosen someone else.

"Akira," she whispered.

I knew.

Still, some part of me waited for her to deny it.

To reach for me.

To say my name in a way that meant I mattered differently.

Instead, she moved toward Kaito.

She released my hand.

The sudden loss of support made my body drop several inches.

I caught the edge with one hand.

Miyu grabbed Kaito's arm with both hands.

"Kaito!"

He pulled himself farther from the edge, and she held on to him.

I looked up at her.

She was crying now.

"I'm sorry!" she shouted.

The words reached me clearly.

More clearly than anything else.

I stared at her hand, the one that had held mine only seconds before.

Then I looked at Kaito.

He was trying to pull Miyu away from the broken railing.

They were both frightened.

They were both struggling.

And neither of them could save me.

The metal beneath my fingers bent again.

I felt my grip weaken.

For a moment, I thought about Daichi.

About the old chair at home.

About Ren's voice telling me not to work too hard.

About the first time Miyu smiled at me.

About all the ordinary days I had believed were leading somewhere.

I had spent my entire life surviving things I could not control.

Poverty.

Loss.

Silence.

Goodbyes.

And just when I had finally wanted something for myself, the world had asked me to let it go.

My fingers slipped.

I heard Miyu scream my name.

The last thing I saw was the sky above the rooftop.

It was impossibly blue.

Beautiful, in a way that felt almost unfair.

Then I fell.

The wind rushed past me.

There was no time to think.

No time to regret every decision.

Only one thought remained, sharp and bitter.

Why wasn't it me?

My eyes closed.

And as the world disappeared, a final belief settled inside me like a shadow.

I should never have trusted anyone.

Especially not a girl.

Especially not love.

Then everything went dark.