It wasn't until the Shouko gate quietly closed that Akira finally turned his bike and headed back toward his garage, pretending as if nothing had happened.
That sound from earlier—combined with Shouko's unusual behavior throughout the day and her awkward words after school—gave him a vague idea of what had happened.
After thinking it over, he decided to act as though nothing was wrong. As long as she wasn't hurt, there was no need to worry.
Later that evening, after dinner, Shouko ca over to Akira's house as usual. The awkward tension from that afternoon had completely disappeared, replaced by their familiar, easy atmosphere.
Neither of them ntioned the incident again. Shouko focused on her unfinished illustrations, occasionally scolding Akira whenever his movents distracted her.
anwhile, Akira sat beside her, revising the manuscript of Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day while also replying to ssages from Funo Jun.
Funo Jun: "Mr. Miyamura, are you sure you really can't change the ending…?"
After several minutes passed with no response—and no "read" indicator—Jun sent another ssage.
Funo Jun: "I still think nma could've been saved! Or at least… she could stay as the protagonist's guardian spirit!"
Before Akira had sent her the second volu of Anohana, her guesses about the plot were similar to Nishikata's predictions. But the mont she received the second volu, she devoured it in one night—and then skipped school the next day in protest.
When she finally reached the ending, she'd felt an overwhelming urge to storm over to Akira's house, grab him by the collar, and force him to rewrite it.
"Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong."
"Akira, shouldn't you check your phone?" Shouko looked up with concern. "What if it's sothing important? If it's that annoying, maybe just put it on silent?"
"It's probably just Jun again," Akira said casually, glancing at his buzzing phone. Sure enough, over a dozen unread ssages filled the screen. "She's been spamming ever since she finished reading."
"Jun? Is there sothing wrong with the Anohana illustrations?" Shouko leaned closer, curious.
"No," Akira replied, gently pushing her forehead back while ssing up her hair in the process. "She's just venting her frustration."
Shouko blinked in confusion until Akira showed her the chat history. Then she finally understood.
Out of a dozen ssages, only one or two were actually related to the story—the rest were pure complaints about the ending, sent one after another.
At first, Akira had responded seriously to every one of her questions. But as the days went by and her persistence grew, his replies beca increasingly brief. One day, he simply stopped replying altogether.
Returning his phone to him, Shouko sighed and went back to her drawing. "At least put it on silent," she reminded softly.
"Can't change it…" Akira muttered as he typed a brief reply to Jun's main ssage before ignoring his phone again.
It wasn't until nearly 10:30 PM—after Shouko said goodnight—that he picked it up once more.
Funo Jun: "Mr. Miyamura, with that kind of ending, you're going to get hate mail… maybe even razor blades in envelopes!"
Akira: "It's fine. As long as I don't do any signing events, no one will know I'm the author of Anohana:The Flower We Saw That Day."
Jun stared at the ssage for a long ti, not knowing how to respond.
Technically, holding signing events was one of the best ways to promote a light novel and earn more inco. But knowing Akira's personality, she could tell he truly ant it—he wouldn't risk public backlash just for extra money.
After exchanging a few more short ssages, Akira sent Shouko a final goodnight text, plugged in his phone, and fell asleep soundly.
By late April, the cherry blossoms had long lted into the mud, and the street trees were now a deep, fresh green.
After Golden Week, the convenience store near the corner quietly swapped its seasonal banners for ice cream posters, while housewives stored away their wool coats and hung linen shirts by the entryway.
Under the heavy sunlight of early May, wisteria flowers draped over the shrine's torii gates, filling the air with the crisp, humid scent that always preceded the plum rain season.
Half a month had passed. The first volu of Anohana was selling decently—high enough to be considered upper-tier, though not a breakout success. Still, the numbers weren't bad.
Akira knew why. The emotional climax ca in the second volu, so many readers were waiting for that before deciding to buy. New author, new series—people wanted to be sure it was worth it.
But he wasn't worried. Once he released a few more books, those doubts would fade.
Others were simply waiting to binge-read both volus at once.
In that sa half month, Akira also happened to et that chuunibyou girl again. She was indeed cute—but also a little exhausting to deal with.
As for Shouya Ishida, the boy who occasionally drew Akira's curiosity, he was still the sa quiet, isolated figure in class. Nothing much had changed there.
If there was any good news during that ti, it was that Akira had visited Futaba Publishing and finalized the release date for Anohana's second volu with Funo Jun.
After several rounds of discussion, they settled on the second week of sumr vacation—early August.
That ant the workload would fall heavily on Shouko… though in truth, she still had about two and a half months to finish the illustrations.
"Akira, are you feeling unwell?"
A soft hand waved in front of his face, pulling him back to reality.
"I'm fine," he replied, shaking his head as he looked at the shimring pool in front of him. The reflection of sunlight on the water made him feel a little dizzy. "Just spacing out."
Now that the good news was out of the way, it was ti for the bad: the pool-cleaning duty had fallen on their class. Nanase-sensei had chosen seven students—including their group of five—to clean it.
Exactly as Akira expected: five friends and two "pack mules."
"Miyamura, I fought tooth and nail to get this assignnt," Atsuya Ayumi announced proudly beside him. "Think about it—it's an excuse to skip class, slack off, and splash around in the pool! You should be thanking !"
Akira sighed deeply, gripping the cleaning net.
Right now, he wasn't sure whether to thank her… or throw her into the pool.
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