In July, it felt as if one had been thrown into a giant steamer. The morning sun, as soon as it appeared, poured its scorching golden rays onto the windowsill of the sunny room with undeniable dominance. The concrete walls of the apartment building absorbed the heat, radiating a subtle warmth. Outside, the incessant chirping of cicadas reigned as the loudest lord of this hot domain, stirring up visible waves of heat that warped the air, playfully lifting the cream-colored sheer curtains and bringing a faint, almost negligible, trace of coolness. Before the sharp "beep beep" of the alarm clock rang out, Hinata slowly opened his eyes, as if awakened by some instinct. Under thick eyelashes, his amber pupils still carried remnants of sleepiness. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds before sluggishly sitting up, the thin summer blanket slipping to his waist, revealing the slightly thin yet already defined contours of his upper body. The morning light outlined the smooth lines of his shoulders and collarbone. His gaze instinctively and habitually fell onto the outer side of his right knee. There lay a shallow, crescent-shaped scar quietly resting on his skin, slightly lighter in color than the surrounding area, like a faded medal. His fingertips, carrying the morning’s coolness, gently brushed over the slightly raised mark, bringing a peculiar sensation imbued with the warmth of memory. That was the mark left six months ago when he risked pushing away Hoshino Akira, who was about to be knocked down by a runaway skateboard. The agonizing pain from that instance and Akira's frightened, tearful face seemed to appear before him again. Hinata’s lips involuntarily curled into a slight arc, a touch of boyish pride hidden deep within, as if he had performed a heroic deed. He got out of bed, barefoot on the cool floor. Hinata opened the door to his bedroom and walked into the small living room. Slight noises came from the neighboring Hoshino family—sounds of Akira's parents preparing breakfast and getting ready to leave. His own parents had already gone to their early shifts today. He naturally opened the door to his own home, as if stepping into another room he was already familiar with, pushing open the unlocked door of Hoshino Akira’s house right next to his. In the living room, Akira's parents—Mr. and Mrs. Hoshino—were quietly tidying up things, preparing to go to work. "Good morning, Uncle and Aunt," Hinata greeted softly. "Good morning, Hinata-kun," Mrs. Hoshino replied with a smile, her voice also soft, looking at him with affectionate eyes as if she were already accustomed to this morning routine. Mr. Hoshino just nodded, wearing a familiar and gentle expression towards Hinata, akin to looking at his own nephews. Hinata silently crossed through their living room, purposefully heading towards Akira’s bedroom at the end of the corridor. He gently pushed open the familiar door. The morning breeze softly crept through the slightly open window, fluttering the light blue curtains, while sunlight cast warm spots on the floor. In this tranquility, Hoshino Akira was curled up in a thin blanket, sound asleep. Her chestnut-colored long hair was somewhat disheveled on the pillow, glistening warmly in the morning light; a few unruly strands playfully clung to her fair cheeks and slender neck. Her sleeping face was serene, and her slightly pouted lips moved gently in a rhythmic manner with each breath. The summer blanket outlined the soft curves of the girl.
An idea of ??mischief exploded in Hinata's mind like a spark. He walked quietly to the bed, looked at Akira's defenseless sleeping face, and raised a mischievous smile at the corner of his mouth. Without hesitation, he raised his foot - not kicking hard, but with a little narrowing force, and kicked lightly towards Akira's body lying on his side, wrapped in a thin quilt. "Wow -" Akira woke up from her sweet dream in an instant, her body bounced like a frightened shrimp, and she rolled down the other side of the bed with a "clunk" wrapped in the quilt, and fell heavily on the floor with a dull sound.
"Kazema Hinata-" Akira's roar, with the hoarseness of just waking up and the overwhelming anger of being attacked suddenly, suddenly burst out from the "quilt roll" on the floor. She broke free from the quilt on her hands and knees, with messy chestnut hair on her head. Her cheeks were flushed with wakefulness and anger. Like a little lion with exploded fur, she rushed towards the bed with her teeth and claws bared, "A sneak attack so early in the morning? Do you want to scare me to death? Stop right there."
Hinata had already predicted her reaction after kicking, and jumped back quickly, avoiding her hand that rushed to grab her, with a big smile on his face that he couldn't hold back after succeeding. "Have successfully awakened the service effect of the classmate Hoshino Akiramitsu, and a new day has begun." He smiled while nimbly dodging Akiramitsu's random fists.
"It's an attempted murder to wake you up." Akira angrily grabbed the pillow on the bed and threw it towards Hinata. Unfortunately, his accuracy was poor, and the pillow softly brushed his shoulder and flew past. "Next time, I'll get up earlier to see who scares whom." Her feet were bare. Stepping on the slightly cool floor, he put his hands on his hips and glared angrily at Hinata. The wide-open almond eyes burned with the raging anger of being woken up, but deeper down, there was a familiar feeling of being teased, a little unwilling but helpless.
"Okay, I'm always with you, but remember to set the alarm next time, don't give me a chance." Hinata caught the flying pillow with a smile and threw it back on the bed. Ignoring Akira's blazing eyes, he turned around and slipped out of her bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. "Hurry up and wash up. Breakfast is going to be cold." His voice was filled with the triumph of a successful prank.
The lingering aroma of the food Hinata's mother cooked last night still lingers in the kitchen. Hinata opened the refrigerator door with ease, and a stream of cold air with the unique smell of the refrigerator hit his face, instantly dispelling the heat around him and refreshing him. The refrigerator was packed to the brim, and it could be seen that Hinata's mother had just replenished the inventory - the fruits and vegetables were neatly arranged, and there was also a large paper bag of fresh bread exuding the aroma of wheat. He accurately took out a can of cold orange soda from a pile of drinks. With a pop, the cool metal tab was pulled open neatly. The fine bubbles, like liberated elves, happily rushed to the mouth of the can, making a subtle "sizzling" sound.
Hinata raised his head, his Adam's apple rolled, and took the first sip. The refreshing and slightly acidic liquid slides down the throat with a cold irritation, like a clear stream, instantly dispelling the last bit of sticky sleepiness, and the whole person seems to be infused with vitality. Then, very naturally, he handed the soda with more than half of the can still left and tiny water droplets condensed on the bottle wall to Akira who was following behind him - just like thousands of times in the past, as if this was an indispensable and natural follow-up action in his soda drinking ritual. After all, the two families took turns cooking this week, and it happened to be the Hinata family's turn to be in charge of breakfast.
Akira also accepted it very naturally, her fingertips inadvertently brushing against Hinata's warm and dry fingers. She raised her head and took a big sip from the bottle. The cold liquid made her squint her eyes comfortably and let out a sigh of contentment. "Phew - I'm alive. Thanks." She put the half-can of soda that was still warm in the palm of her hand back into Hinata's hand. Her movements were as smooth as if she had rehearsed them countless times, and then she set her sights on the fresh bread bag. "Is there any stuffing on the toast? For example...red bean?" There was a little habitual expectation in her tone.
Hinata raised his head and drank the remaining soda in one gulp, while using his free finger to tap on a small label on the refrigerator door that read "Akira Hikaru's Exclusive-Azuki Bean". There were two individually packaged red bean filling buns attached to the back. "Well, there it is." He said in a normal tone, as if the label was a decoration that came with the refrigerator. He casually threw the flattened empty can into the trash can in the corner in a precise parabola with a "clang" sound. These two pieces of red bean bread were bought by him from Akira's favorite bakery after school yesterday, just because he remembered that she had mentioned casually that she missed the red bean filling from that place.
Breakfast was quickly prepared. Hinata quickly baked a few slices of toast and took out jam and milk from the refrigerator. Akira had already torn open the packaging of one of the red bean breads, took a big bite eagerly, and narrowed her eyes with satisfaction. The two of them sat face to face at the small dining table of Hinata's house. The sunlight filtered through the window and cast bright spots on the floor. Occasionally, the eyes met, and then quickly drifted away, with a accustomed tacit understanding and a subtle sense of distance that belongs to adolescent men and women. Only the sound of Akira contentedly chewing the sweet red bean paste, and the slightly raised corners of her mouth that Hinata didn't even notice when he looked at her profile, dotted this summer morning.
The sounds of cicadas outside seemed to beisolate from the dull pressure of the classroom and the hum of the air conditioner during the morning math class, leaving only the monotonous and sharp "squeak" of chalk scraping against the blackboard, making one feel drowsy. The teacher was drawing a clear Cartesian coordinate system on the blackboard, with the X-axis and Y-axis intersecting at right angles.
"…Thus, in the classical Euclidean geometric system, two parallel lines never intersect, a principle we take for granted, akin to an axiom. It forms the foundation of our understanding of space." The teacher adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses, their lenses reflecting the overly bright sunlight from outside, creating two glaring spots that obscured his gaze. "However," he shifted his tone, tapping the chalk against the blackboard, his voice steady yet filled with enthusiasm for the exploration of knowledge boundaries, "as mathematical thought continuously evolves, scientists have begun to realize that the properties of space are not always so fixed."
He erased the coordinate system and instead drew a sphere, sketching two lines that appeared parallel, which ultimately intersected at the opposite end of the sphere. "From a broader spatial perspective—such as that seen in the theories developed by Mr. Chen Shengshen and Mr. James Simons in the 1940s—geometric properties depend on the overall structure of space. What we once considered parallel lines are not as absolute as our inherent understanding suggests."
The teacher paused, moving the chalk to the side as if outlining a cosmic picture. "This understanding of space as inherently more dynamic is not just theoretical. It has inspired breakthroughs in various fields of physics: In 1927, Georges Lema?tre derived the insight that the universe is expanding based on Einstein’s theory of general relativity. In 1974, Stephen Hawking proposed the groundbreaking theory that black holes emit radiation. In 1998, scientists like Saul Perlmutter provided solid evidence for the accelerating expansion of the universe through observations of distant supernovae. These discoveries collectively paint a dynamic, malleable, and unknown stage of spacetime."
He shifted his topic to the microscopic world: "Even in the material world we inhabit, new understandings are emerging. In 2016, Duncan Haldane was awarded the Nobel Prize for his outstanding research on topological phase transitions, revealing that certain state changes of matter are rooted in its overall topological structure. This embodies the laws of deformation in quantum matter, suggesting that at the microscopic scale, the form and structure of space also play a crucial role."
The teacher placed the chalk back on the podium, his gaze calmly sweeping across the classroom as he summarized: "From the curved spacetime of the universe to the quantum effects at the edge of black holes, and the peculiar world of topological phase transitions, these cutting-edge discoveries across different scales are prompting us to rethink the essence of space. The flat space we commonly understand may just be the tip of an iceberg of a more complex, higher-dimensional form." He picked up the chalk again and clearly wrote "KohaAoi" on the blackboard. "And here in our country, Dr. KohaAoi—a leading expert in quantum communication, recently nominated for the Nobel Prize—his cutting-edge research is rooted in the exploration of the deep structures of the universe, particularly the topological properties at the quantum level and their projection effects in higher-dimensional space. His work is a practical attempt to explore the possibilities that transcend classical frameworks."
Hinata rested his chin on one hand, his gaze seemingly fixed on the coordinate system on the blackboard and the newly written name—KohaAoi—but was actually somewhat unfocused. His mind was consumed with thoughts about the final volume of the serialized comic he had to return to the school library at noon—did the protagonist defeat the demon king or not? As for concepts like higher-dimensional space and intersecting parallel lines... they seemed more like scenarios from a science fiction novel, too far removed from his everyday life of playing football, gaming, and occasionally bickering with Akira. He stifled a small yawn, his gaze unconsciously drifting to the diagonal front.
Akira was seated diagonally in front of him, her head slightly tilted, revealing her elegantly contoured and delicately arched profile, as sunlight cast a soft halo over her fair skin. She held a pen, its tip gliding smoothly across a pristine notebook, producing a soft rustling sound, her expression focused and serious. Hinata watched her slightly trembling eyelashes, resembling the fragile wings of a butterfly, as a sudden, uninvited thought welled up in his mind: If space could truly be distorted, and parallel lines could indeed intersect as the teacher said, could there be a possibility for him and Akira—so close yet seemingly separated by an invisible barrier, maintaining only the label of "childhood friends"—to intersect as well? This thought sent a slight thrill through him, like a small stone tossed into a calm lake, creating ripples before he self-deprecatingly brushed it aside—what nonsense was he thinking?
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
During the lunch break, the sun seemed determined to bake the earth. The sunlight poured down unabated, the asphalt road distorting under the heat haze, and the leaves of the street trees drooped tiredly. Hinata, carrying a bulging backpack filled with comic books, felt his T-shirt slightly damp with sweat. He scampered to the school library, pushed open the heavy glass door, and was instantly enveloped by a refreshing breeze carrying the scent of books and old paper, dispelling the heat clinging to his skin and making him almost sigh with relief.
The library was quiet, filled only with the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of turning pages. The library committee member, Kobayashi Chika, sat quietly behind a dark wooden counter. She had meticulously trimmed black hair with sharp edges that accentuated her almost translucent fair skin. A petite face framed by delicate silver-rimmed glasses, with a subtle cherry blossom-shaped ornament adorning the arms of her glasses, added a trace of gentle warmth to her serene demeanor. Her uniform— a deep blue top paired with a knee-length pleated skirt—was always impeccably pressed, the skirt's length seemingly measured precisely to maintain a strict five centimeters above the knee, as rigorous as she herself.
"Kazama-san, returning a book?" Chika looked up, her voice soft, like a feather inadvertently brushing across the still surface of water, her tone steady without fluctuation.
"Hmm." Hinata handed over several brightly colored, exaggeratedly illustrated comic books.
Chinatsu took the books with quick and silent movements, her slender fingers dancing lightly over the scanner and keyboard to complete the registration. Instead of immediately standing up to return the books to the comic area, she opened the perfectly clean drawer on her right and took out a light blue envelope, unmarked and without any decorations. The edges of the envelope were neatly trimmed. "Just right," she said, handing the envelope to Hinata in a calm and steady tone, as if stating a fact, "Could you please pass this to classmate Sato? There are some matters that need his attention in the sports department." She paused and added, looking calmly at Hinata through her glasses, "Also, please be sure to tell him to come to the rooftop of the teaching building after lunch, I’ll be waiting for him there." Her tone was not a request, but more akin to an accurate transmission.
"For Tatsuya?" Hinata took the excessively clean envelope, which had a slight chill to it, curiously squeezing it. There seemed to be only a thin piece of paper inside, making it hard to tell what it was. "No problem, leave it to me!" He habitually patted his chest and tucked the envelope into the side pocket of his backpack. Chinatsu slightly nodded, her movement so small it was almost imperceptible, as if acknowledging him, then lowered her head and continued to concentrate on organizing a stack of neatly arranged borrowing cards in front of her, as if the previous conversation was merely a minor, routine part of her work, unremarkable.
Hinata walked out of the library, and a wave of heat hit him again. He glanced at the time and decided to take care of lunch first.
The afternoon flowed slowly amid the sound of cicadas and the occasional warm breeze. As evening approached, the phone at Hinata's home rang sharply, breaking the tranquility inside. Just as he picked up the receiver, his father, Kazama Koji, sounded somewhat tired but spoke quickly, with background noise that seemed a bit loud:
"Hello? Hinata? Your mom and I won’t be back for dinner; there’s an urgent matter to deal with at the research institute, so you’ll need to take care of dinner yourself. There are leftovers in the fridge; just heat them up, or you can order takeout…"
"Oh, got it…" Hinata instinctively replied. As he was about to ask, "What’s the urgent matter that makes you stay out so late?", the busy tone interrupted him from the other end. He hung up the receiver in surprise and, with a hint of helplessness, ruffled his sun-warmed, prickly short hair. Both of his parents worked at the Future Technology Research Institute, where "urgent matters" weren't uncommon, but today’s situation, where they hurriedly hung up without letting him finish speaking, left a subtle feeling of unease, like a shadow gliding silently beneath a calm surface. He thought for a moment, grabbed his phone, and quickly typed a message to Aoyuki:
[Kazama Hinata]: There’s no one at home to cook, and the fridge has a lot of food, but I have no ideas.
[Kazama Hinata]: Are you coming?
Almost the moment the message was sent successfully, Aoyuki responded with a running emoji, followed by a grinning face and a rice bowl symbol.
In less than half a minute, the doorbell rang with a "ding-dong." Hinata opened the door, and Akira skillfully slipped inside, holding a small bag of fresh grapes. "My parents went out to a meeting as well; they left for the city at noon and are starving. Is there anything to eat?" she asked while changing her shoes, her chestnut-colored long hair gently swaying with her movements.
"Go to the convenience store?" Hinata suggested.
"Sounds perfect!" Akira's eyes brightened.
With the lingering summer heat, the two wandered to the nearby 24-hour convenience store. Under the bright lights, the colorful bento boxes, rice balls, and salads inside the refrigerated section emitted an enticing glow and cool air. They picked a few appealing rice balls (tuna mayonnaise, grilled salmon, plum and perilla), two fragrant fried noodle buns, and a large bag of barbecue-flavored chips. Akira even grabbed a box of Hinata's favorite caramel pudding.
Back in Hinata's room, the air conditioning had already adjusted the indoor temperature to just right. The two sat cross-legged on the bamboo mat spread on the floor, just like they had countless times in their childhood, spreading out their "loot" between them. A gentle breeze flowed from the air conditioning, dispelling the last traces of heat brought in from outside. As they munched on the soft bread, they casually grabbed the remote and turned on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, planning to find a show to accompany their meal.
"We interrupt this program for an urgent news broadcast!" The images on the screen abruptly switched, and the light-hearted variety show vanished, replaced by the serious backdrop of a news report and the host's meticulously made-up but serious face: "We have just received breaking news of a serious incident at the Future Technology Institute located in the capital! It is reported that around six o'clock this evening, the Institute's iconic particle collision experimental building was attacked by an unknown explosive…"
Hinata and Akira both froze, their chewing abruptly stopping. The bread in their mouths seemed to lose all flavor, turning dry and hard to swallow. Their eyes were locked onto the screen. The scene shifted to the site of the incident, and even through the screen, one could feel the intense impact—a blinding fire shot into the sky like a ferocious beast, thick black smoke rolled and roared upwards, turning the sky, which should have been beautiful at dusk, into an eerie and oppressive orange-red! The piercing sound of police sirens broke through the air, so shrill it tightened their hearts, with red and blue lights flashing wildly between the panicked crowd and speeding vehicles, creating a scene reminiscent of the apocalypse. The camera shook violently, clearly indicating that the photographer was also running for cover, before stabilizing and focusing on a young male reporter who appeared not much older than they were. He wore a simple brown trench coat, hair tousled by the chaotic winds at the site, with smudges of soot on his face and what seemed like sweat trickling down his forehead. Despite his tense demeanor, he tried to maintain composure, reporting rapidly and clearly into the microphone:
"…This is Chang Lefeng, a temporary reporter from the Cicada Ming Daily, reporting live from the scene at the Future Technology Institute. According to multiple eyewitnesses on site, the explosion occurred about ten minutes ago, accompanied by an extremely loud roar and a strong sense of vibration, with the shockwave shattering many windows of surrounding buildings!" The camera timely swept past the laboratory building still billowing thick smoke, its outer walls charred and some structures twisted and collapsed, as well as scattered glass shards and twisted metal debris glinting ominously under the police lights. Chang Lefeng slightly turned his body, allowing the camera to capture the shocking sight more clearly, his voice coming through the microphone, carrying a tone of pain and disbelief, along with the typical immediacy of a reporter:
"As you can see, the scene is still filled with high temperatures, the heat waves rolling, the air thick with the acrid smell of burnt material and the choking odor of some chemical substances. Preliminary assessments indicate that the target of the attack is very likely one of the Institute's core research facilities—the particle collider! The specific casualties are still unclear; the police and fire department have fully sealed off the area, and emergency rescue and evacuation efforts are underway. We will continue to monitor the situation closely…"
"The particle collider…" Akira's complexion instantly drained of color under the pale light of the screen, becoming as white as paper. Her lips quivered slightly, her voice trembling with an uncontrollable, deep-rooted fear as she instinctively grasped Hinata's arm, her nails nearly digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, "Hinata... Uncle and Aunt... the urgent matter they mentioned on the phone…" She could not bring herself to say more; a tremendous fear engulfed her like a cold tide. The Institute! An explosion! The particle collider! These words hit her heart like a hammer, and her parents were there!
Hinata's heart felt as if it was suddenly gripped by a cold, enormous hand, twisting painfully, making it almost impossible for him to breathe! He suddenly grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling violently from extreme tension, almost unable to hold the device. After several tries, he finally managed to unlock the screen and quickly dialed his father's number.
"Beep... Beep... Beep..." The monotonous and lengthy busy tone struck his heart like a hammer with every sound. Calling his mother’s phone again yielded the same despairing, seemingly endless busy signal! No one answered!
Fear grew like a toxic vine, spiraling out of control and tightening around his heart, almost choking his breath and dragging him into a cold abyss! He felt his hands and feet turn icy, as if his blood had frozen. Akira's grip on his arm grew tighter, and his body trembled uncontrollably, tears quickly filling his clear eyes, their corners turning red as he fought to hold them back. In the room, the only sounds left were the live report from Chang Le Feng on the TV, the urgent wailing of police sirens in the background, and the heavy, oppressive breathing of the two.
Time seemed to stand still; every second felt like a century.
Just as the two were on the brink of collapse from the sudden, overwhelming fear, the phone in Hinata’s hand, scorching hot like a branding iron, suddenly vibrated wildly! On the screen, those two incredibly familiar characters—"Dad"—flashed like a lighthouse in the dark!
Hinata nearly fell over as he lunged for it, using all his strength to press the answer button. His voice was hoarse and distorted from the extreme tension and fear: "Hello?! Dad! Are you okay?! Where’s Mom?! Where is she?! Talk to me!" He practically shouted.
On the other end of the line, the familiar voice of Kazamahao came through, though it carried a noticeable fatigue and slight hoarseness, yet remained strong. In the background, there were chaotic shouts and mechanical noises: "Hello? Hinata! Don’t panic! Don’t be afraid! We’re fine, don’t worry! Your mom and I are safe! The explosion site is far from our material analysis lab! Just a strong tremor inside the building, like an earthquake, which shattered a few glasses in our lab, and some ceiling panels fell, but everyone is safe! We all got out! Your mom is right next to me, not a hair lost! We’re fine, just startled!"
Hinata let out a long, deep breath, the sound trembling with relief. It felt as though all his strength had been drained at that moment, and his legs gave way, causing him to drop straight onto the floor. He quickly shoved the phone into the hands of Akira, who was on the brink of tears. Akira took the phone and, with a choked voice, shouted into the receiver, "Uncle! Auntie! Are you really okay? That’s great... so great... you scared us to death... really scared us to death..." As she spoke, tears finally streamed down her face, soaking into the cool mat beneath her and leaving a small dark mark.
Koji’s voice came through again, this time obviously much more relaxed, and even carried a hint of humor one might overlook in the relief: "Hello? Hinata? I hear Little Akira is at your place? You better take good care of her, don’t let her go hungry!" In the background of the call, one could faintly hear Kazamaling's teasing voice filled with mirth: "At a time like this, you’re still worried about that! Give me the phone…" Then, it seemed like they could also hear Akira’s parents chiming in with vague chuckles: "Exactly, Hinata, please take care of Little Akira." "Dad! What are you talking about?!" Hinata’s face instantly turned as red as fire, reaching all the way to his ears. He snatched the phone back and, flustered, defended himself, his voice rising due to embarrassment, "We’re just... just having a meal and watching TV together! What could possibly happen! As long as you’re okay! Don’t worry about us!" He glanced at Akira, who was wiping her tears with the back of her hand, her cheeks flushed like ripe tomatoes, spreading to her delicate earlobes, now looking down, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her T-shirt, unable to meet his gaze. Her shy demeanor was more convincing than any defense he could muster.
"Alright, alright, I know you’re both good kids." Koji’s laughter grew louder, filled with a sense of relief that diluted the tension that lingered just moments before. "Lock the doors and stay safe. We still have to cooperate with the police investigation and clear the scene; it will probably take us until late tonight, but we'll be back as soon as we can. Don’t wait for us; get some rest early, you have school tomorrow."
After hanging up, a peculiar silence fell over the room. On the TV screen, Chang Le Feng continued to dutifully report the latest developments and short official statements from the scene, but neither of them had the heart to listen. The overwhelming fear from moments ago receded like a turbulent tide, leaving behind a strange mixture of relief, lingering trepidation, awkwardness, and a hint of sweetness that came with surviving the ordeal, like the tiny bubbles quietly rising, expanding, and finally bursting in a can of orange soda on a summer day—both stimulating and pleasantly sweet.
The gazes of Hinata and Akira inadvertently met in the air, then quickly parted as if electrocuted. A vague tension lingered in the air, thicker than usual. The seemingly clear and unbreakable boundary of childhood friends appeared particularly sharp yet also remarkably blurred on this summer night, following the shocking news of life and death, as if a gentle touch could lead to an unexpected change.
"Well…" Hinata stood up awkwardly, his gaze drifting, unable to look at Akira, fixated on the cracks between the floor tiles in the corner of the room. "I… I’ll go get you a new towel and toothbrush… Our blankets were sun-dried yesterday, I’ll go make the bed for you…" He almost shuffled stiffly into the room, his back revealing an overwhelming sense of fluster.
"Uh… okay… thank you…" Akira's voice was so faint it was almost inaudible. She still kept her head down, but her fingers quietly released the wrinkled edge of her clothes. She raised her hand, looking at her slightly trembling fingertips, recalling Hinata’s pale face and hoarse voice from earlier, a complex and delicate emotion she had never experienced before softly spread in her heart. The night outside seemed to become less profound.
This day began with a mischievous summer morning and ended with a shocking explosive news report. However, Kazama Hinata and Hoshino Akira did not know that this seemingly peaceful July 2nd was merely the beginning of a massive cycle. When the clock struck midnight, everything would reset.
