On a Friday evening in mid-July, I still had the last half page left of the calculation notebook I was due to submit for the progress report at the start of the week. My classmates and juniors had all cleared out of our room in the research building, and only the sound of the air conditioning kept turning.
I clicked my mechanical pencil twice and pushed half the lead back in. It was a habit my hands had between thoughts.
There was the light sound of the door opening, and
"Seto, you won't be able to come to the club's drinking party tonight?"
came a voice. It was Hayase. Her fingers, sending her chestnut, shoulder-length hair back behind her ear, moved before any reply came. She had a convenience store bag hanging from one hand.
"Ah, sorry."
Still looking at the screen, I answered after half a breath.
"I have plans."
Hayase pushed the corner of her lips out a little, then went straight back to the shape of a smile.
"Is it your girlfriend?"
The tip of the fountain pen I had set in the notebook's margin stopped, still touching the paper. Only a faint dot bled into the white margin. Hayase held her smile in reserve for a single beat, then cleanly smiled again.
"At club drinking parties, you're always surrounded by girls, but you never give in to any of them, so I always wondered."
"That kind of thing isn't for me."
Hayase lowered her voice.
"...But lately, you seem to have changed somehow."
I didn't answer.
"I envy her, whoever she is. Good work today!"
Hayase left. Over the white of the notebook, the corners of my mouth loosened slightly.
I took the cap off the fountain pen, held it up once toward the window, and checked how much ink was left against the light. In the margin at the right edge of the notebook, I wrote the six-digit date in the usual order. Then I lined up the things on the desk from upper left to lower right. The calculation notebook, the printed-out paper beside it, the pen stand, the mug, the desk lamp.
I stopped by the library. Sakurai was standing in front of the folklore studies section. Sensing someone there, she turned around,
"Oh, good evening,"
she said, looking up.
"Good evening."
Even I could tell my reply had come out slightly ahead of itself.