Lingering Silence.

His heart beat faster thinking back at last week. The feeling came back, when he had first laid eyes on “Girl from the Woods”, as Ashiya’s beautiful self-portrait was called. During his other workdays in the week, he had often gazed at the image.

Even though Takurō felt this great inspiration, he hadn’t come further with the beginning of his screenplay. Seeing her artworks did not seem to be enough. He had to understand every little detail about how they were made. Maybe this way he would discover what he was still missing.

But the way last Saturday ended, this goal had moved far into the distance. It was the Friday afterwards already, and he hadn’t met Ashiya ever since. Maybe he put her off with his strange taste for movies.

Takurō slumped back in his usual chair in the literature club room. Nagashiki sat on the place right next to him and was typing in a speed he had gotten quite envious of. Ikaritake did the same thing in the back of the room, lying in a somewhat strange position on one of the bigger tables and Nakazuka sat at his laptop in front of her, writing a new poem.

The literature club was rather empty today. During summer break, participation in the club activities was not mandatory, so people could also go on vacation.

Anyone but the four had left for one reason or another. Maybe the unbearable heat was also a cause. A technician had been there to look at the air conditioning system, but some spare parts were still missing.

Takurō couldn’t banish Ashiya’s words from his mind: Kukai was just a normal girl as well. He had been an idiot—searching for a simple answer to a complex problem and praised it as the truth. There were no main characters or side characters. Ashiya had only needed a single look to tell how he felt about Kukai—to tell how wrong he was.

His eyes trailed off to the side and he stood up to step in front of the open window. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and let his gaze wander off into the distance, leaned onto the windowsill.

Water from a big river sparkled behind the houses. The skyscrapers in the distance looked still impressive, despite being a familiar sight for him. Due to the heat, the school’s sports field was almost completely empty. Only the swimming club enjoyed the burning summer sun in their outside swimming pool.

Other sports clubs spent their training sessions inside the gym or in the shadows of some of the trees or buildings on the school grounds. Only a group of girls made an exception. The women’s volleyball team, Takurō concluded. A handful rather fit ones led the front, while a few more or less exhausted members lagged behind, troubled by the heat.

One of the girls particularly caught his eye. Ashiya was doing quite well on the first position, right next to Kukai and their captain. They didn’t talk. Actually, they looked way too focused to not collapse for proper talking. But it seemed like their jog was already turning to an end.

The captain made a gesture to the others and trailed off to the side of the field, going over into a loose jog and finally a walk until she reached the place, they had stored their drinks at: in the shadow of a big tree. The remaining girls followed her, made a few steps to calm their pulses again and finally fell into the grass, shielded by the shadow.

They exchanged a few words, Kukai seemed to have cracked a joke that made the others laugh. Only Ashiya’s dreamy gaze drifted somewhere else. She looked up at the treetop, only barely shielded her eyes from the sun with an outstretched hand.

Several dots of light playfully danced across her body. She formed her hands into the shape of a square and squinted one eye, observing the way the tree bowed in the winds above her.

As if startled by something, her eyes flashed into the direction of the school building. Her gaze met Takurō’s and for a moment they looked at each other.

Ashiya loosened her arms and let them glide into the grass, right next to her. It was a strange sensation—the moment like it had been frozen in time. Something in her gaze seemed uncomfortable and a little embarrassed. She was not mad at him, and she didn’t turn him off, he figured. He just knew it instantly looking at her.

A heavy weight seemed to fall from Takurō’s shoulders, and he gave her a wide smile. She could only reply with a wry but willing grin until her captain grabbed her attention again in an attempt to instruct some stretching exercises.

Takurō watched them for another moment, but then turned around to face the inside of the room again. He leaned against the windowsill and breathed through deeply when his phone vibrated.

A message from his brother. It showed the image of an archway made of balloons. Three guys and two women made peace signs in front of it, Asahiro holding the phone for a selfie with his outstretched arm. “Everything ready!” said the caption with a saluting emoji.

Takurō smiled. He had long awaited the anniversary celebration from his brother’s company. “Seems like you guys are having fun already,” he wrote.

“We’re working hard. No time for fun!” Serious Emoji.

“Then keep on doing that. I’m already thrilled to see what you prepared. See you later!”

“Later!”

Takurō put his phone back and pushed himself off the windowsill.

“Spending quite a bit time by the window lately. Watching Kukai-san again, huh?” Nagashiki leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms. “And you thought I wouldn’t notice, tihihi …”

Takurō gave him a gentle smile.

“Hey, no judgement, yah!” He waved his hands in front of his chest. “I mean I’d consider the prospect as well, if that wouldn’t result in my instant, ritual execution, y’know.”

“I think you’re feeling a bit too safe ‘round here!” Ikaritake punched her hand onto the table.

Her boyfriend flinched around, using the back of his chair as a shield, and let out a shrieking sound that would have even made a choir boy on helium envious. “Ehhhh … Please have mercy! There is no other girl but you in my life!”

“You guys are cute,” Nakazuka said without looking up from his laptop.

“Shut up!” Nagashiki and Ikaritake shouted at him in unison.

Takurō came around and let himself fall into his chair again. “Did you guys already have ideas for themes we could use for the cultural festival?”

“Why not stick to the original plan: Everyone selects their best works and just presents them, ‘ight,” Nakazuka suggested.

Takurō sighed lightly. “In the document Kukai-san gave me, they wanted us to set a rough thematic structure, y’know.”

“I see. Someone wants to please his crush.” Nagashiki gave his club president a knowing grin but received a paper ball to his head as an answer.

His girlfriend didn’t approve. “Not everyone has the same monkey brain as you, yah!” Ikaritake crossed her arms.

He protested. “Geez … what do you know, Nera-chan? Are you a guy, now?”

“Guys!” Takurō tried calming them down. “You don’t have to fight over it, ‘ight? It’s okay if we don’t have an answer yet. We still have time until summer break ends.”

“What’s with a set of short stories about cute animals?” Ikaritake suggested.

“You lost me at ‘cute’.” Nagashiki looked away uninterested.

“Then suggest something better!”

It was really a miracle how the two of them had gotten together. Sometimes it felt like they were constantly having opposing opinions. Takurō sighed again. “Think ‘bout it, a’ight?”

“Yeah.”

“’kay.”

Once again, the literature club fell into silence, as everyone engulfed themselves into their arts again. On a whim, Takurō finally deleted the first sentence and updated it to something new: “A long time ago, in a land not far away, people felt like something dear to them had gone missing.”