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“Fukase, huh?”

“...Yeah.”

I feel Fukase’s breath against my back as she stands behind me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Has it been... half a year?”
“Half a year... and twenty-seven days...”

Inside the dimly lit haunted house, near the exit... it’s just Fukase and me. No one else.

“I’m sorry... for barging in here like this...” Her small, trembling voice reached me. That gentle voice I’d heard beside me since we were kids.

“I’m sorry... for the things I said... for hurting you... I’m sorry, okay?” Even without seeing her face, I could easily imagine her struggling to hold back tears, forcing the words out.

Whatever her reasons might have been, she hurt me. That was the truth. And because of that, I cut ties with her. That fact hadn’t changed.

Even so...

“Have... have you been okay?” I asked.
“...Yeah.”
“Working hard... at high school?”
“...Yeah.”
“You look... a little thinner?”
“...Yeah.”