The words Yuna had thrown at me three years ago came back to Yuna, exactly as they were.
The one who threw them back was Shota.
After school, in the entrance hall.
I just happened to be there when it happened.
Shota was pushing Yuna away.
"Stop hanging around me."
The easy grin was gone from Shota's face. It was the bare, cold face of a guy whose family business had crumbled and who had nothing left to hide behind.
"You get what kind of situation my family's in right now? I don't have time to deal with you."
"How can you... That's so mean, Shota. I was on your side the whole time."
Yuna tried to cling to him. Shota brushed her hand off, annoyed.
And then he said it.
"Honestly, I've thought this for a while—you're cringe."
The air in the entrance hall froze.
"You only cozy up while there's money, and once it's gone you act like it's got nothing to do with you and go looking for the next one. It's so cringe to watch."
Even from a distance, I could see the blood drain from Yuna's face.
I knew those words.
Three years ago. In the classroom after school. Peering at my half-finished manuscript, Yuna had laughed and said them.
Who would even read this? Ren, you're so cringe.
The same words, in the same shape, were stabbing into Yuna now.
Shota walked out of the entrance hall without looking back. His hangers-on were long gone. Left alone, Yuna just stood there.
I didn't feel any satisfaction.
I didn't think "serves her right," either.
Three years ago, those words had quietly broken me. Who would even read this, you're so cringe. It was only one remark, but after that I became afraid to show my manuscripts to anyone. And I had stayed afraid, all this time.
Now those words were going straight back to Yuna herself.
But even watching it, my heart didn't clear.
I only felt quiet and empty, as if a wind were passing through me.
The stone you throw goes all the way around the world over three years and comes back to hit you in the forehead. I watched it happen right in front of me. Nobody punished her. Shota hadn't been trying to teach Yuna a lesson, either. The words had just gone around and come home.
That's probably what cause and effect is. Nothing flashy, nothing dramatic. Things just quietly add up.
I thought about Koyomi. She hadn't laid a single finger on Shota's father's company. And still, Shota crumbled. Yuna was stabbed by the words she herself had thrown.
Nobody had dirtied their hands. Nobody had punished anyone.
And yet, starting with the people who had done wrong, one by one, they were quietly getting what was coming to them. As if the world itself were balancing its books.
I thought it was a frightening story. But it also resembled, somehow, the stories I had been writing all along. No flashy reversals, no dramatic revenge. Just the facts of how you lived and the words you threw, which someday, without fail, return to you.
I tried to slip away quietly.
I didn't want to look at Yuna with a face like that.
But just as I started to turn my back.
Yuna looked up.
And her eyes met mine.
Her tear-wet eyes went wide and caught hold of me.
Deep in those eyes, I saw something I didn't like. That desperate light of a person who has lost what they were clinging to and is looking for the next shore.
Having lost the shore called Shota, the next shore Yuna had found. That was me, now at number one.
Yuna, who laughed at my manuscript three years ago. Yuna, who dumped me this early summer. Yuna, who cozied up to my number-one spot about ten days ago. And now, Yuna, dumped by Shota and looking my way again.
The same thing, going around and around. She probably didn't even notice.
"...Ren."
In a trembling voice, Yuna said my name.
She took a step toward me.
Three years ago, that one step might have shaken me. Having my childhood friend lean on me. That alone might have sent me floating.
But I wasn't the me of back then anymore.
I didn't move. I didn't run, either.
There was something I needed to say to her, properly. Not as payback, not as spite. Just words that would clearly mark an end.
I decided I was done running.