Haru slowly sipped his coffee, trying to feel its warmth. The sun was shining brightly outside, but the wind was blowing harshly, as if trying to match the sun's power. He gazed outside and saw a crow flying shakily from a water faucet to the nearby ginkgo tree. Somehow, the black bird reminded him of Fujiwara.

He felt his phone vibrate. A new message from Chie had just arrived. Without opening it, he could see the content in the notification bar.

'I'm sorry. I went too far.'

Chie did indeed go too far, but he didn't mind. Haru already knew that girl always does that. Nobody could change Chie Maruyama. Haru wasn't angry at her; he just walked away to take some me-time. Dealing with a girl like Chie every day can be exhausting.

"Hello."

He jolted. Someone was standing in front of him, holding a tray. That was Fujiwara. Without wearing all blacks, he looked quite different. Today he wore a cream long-sleeved shirt and a brown apron embroidered with Shiru Cafe's logo. He looked somewhat brighter, as if all the colors had banished all of his usual gloominess. And handsome too. Haru almost didn't recognize him.

Haru immediately corrected his sitting position. "Fujiwara-san!"

"Enjoying your coffee?" Fujiwara smiled.

"Yes. This is my first time drinking, uh..." He couldn't remember the name of the drink.

"Café latte," Fujiwara suggested.

"Café latte," Haru repeated thankfully. "It tastes good."

Fujiwara just stood there and stared blankly at him.

"Sorry to disturb you. I didn't come to see you. I mean—" Haru was telling the truth; he came here by accident. The name of Shiru Café just popped into his mind when he was pacing to the park earlier. "I mean, it's nice to see you, Fujiwara-san, but I thought you were taking a day off because you didn't show up for our walk this morning."

Fujiwara chuckled, "My bad. I forgot to tell you. I'm having a bit of a cold, so I woke up late. I'm not supposed to work today, but it's just a cold."

"Ah, no wonder. I was worried you were upset with me or something."

Fujiwara chuckled again, "What made you think of that?"

Haru sighed in relief, "Well, I just didn't see you this morning, and, you know, Chie was rude to you yesterday. And last week, when we had curry, I shouldn't—"

"May I sit with you?" Fujiwara cut him off and gestured to the spot across the table.

"Yes, please. Are you on break? 'Cause I don't want to disturb."

"Yes, I'm on break. And no, you're not disturbing," he replied bluntly. "Let's restart. You didn't mean to see me; you came here by accident because...?"

"Chie's being annoying," Haru groaned. "Chie was the girl I introduced you to."

"Yes, I perfectly remember who she is." Fujiwara folded his hands in front of his chest. "I thought she's your childhood friend?"

"Yes, but she's trying to—" Haru stopped, suddenly realizing that he couldn't continue talking about what happened between him and Chie. "She's up to something bad," Haru said instead, disguising his true words. I didn't lie, he reminded himself. Chie was snooping around.

"Are you trying to say that you can't stand her?"

"Yeah," Haru surrendered.

"I had a friend like her once," Fujiwara glanced to the flower bush outside the window. "Always following me around. I used to hate him, but we became best friends at the end."

Haru jerked, suddenly acknowledging the person Fujiwara's talking about. The guy in the photograph. Nishii-san told him that the guy was Fujiwara's best friend. But he waited, trying not to say something foolish.

"I can see that Maruyama-san is very... energetic. Maybe you need to be more patient." Fujiwara twirled the tip of his forefinger along the wood tendrils on the table. "You two are best friends, after all. Not everyone has a best friend like that."

"You're right."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?" Fujiwara straightened up his back and grinned. "You're my customer today; I'll try my best to help."

Haru had questions. Most were unanswered remains from their previous encounters. But instead, he smiled back. "Thank you, you've been very helpful today."

"Nakano?"

A girl wearing a long white jacket poked her head in front of him. Haru startled. It took him a few seconds to recognize who the girl was. Her jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting with the pristine white of her long jacket. A silver pendant dangled from her neck, catching the faint light and glinting as she moved.

"Takahashi! What are you doing here?"

"I attend Chuo; it's around here," said Takahashi as she approached the table, her steps light and confident. "I thought you already knew. What about you? Aren't you supposed to go to Kindai in Osaka? Or did you change plans?"

"Yes, I was admitted to Hitosubashi," Haru pointed outside to some buildings of his University that were visible from the café. "Uh, well... how are you?"

"I'm good!" Takahashi nodded gleefully. She gave Haru a friendly pat on the shoulder. "It's so good to see you again. You look great." She pointed at him up and down; her eyes were sparkling. "Look at you, finally moved to Tokyo! Still searching for that special person, I see."

Haru glanced at Fujiwara. He was still smiling, but his eyes were studying Takahashi. A curious mixture of emotions played on his face.

"Oh, by the way, this is my neighbor, Fujiwara-san. He works here as a barista." Haru stood up for the introduction. Fujiwara followed him after taking the tray. "Fujiwara-san, this is Takahashi. She's my friend from high school."

"A friend?" Takahashi smirked. "That's Chie." She faced Fujiwara and gave a quick bow. "Nice to meet you. I'm Takahashi, Nakano's ex-girlfriend."

...

That evening, Nishii-san came home on time. But she was completely drained, having to handle four major surgeries in one day. Their usual dinner chat was cut short as Nishii-san rushed to take a bath and then went straight to bed.

After washing the dishes, Haru retreated to his room. Most of his assignments were done, with only one report left – a task he decided could be postponed. Despite playing games on his phone and reading eight chapters of manga in an attempt to lull himself to sleep, he failed; his eyes remained wide awake like a lighthouse, and his mind stayed active.

Then, he recalled another book, securely locked in the drawer due to concerns that Chie might peek into it again.

Ever since he had finished reading that book, his curiosity about the author had rapidly grown. While reading, he scrutinized it, dividing the chapters into parts and trying to connect the information with what he knew so far. Realizing he needed more details, he opened his computer and fired up the search engine. Previous attempts to find news about the death of a high school boy gave him nothing. This time, he needed to adjust his approach. He typed:

Ice hockey. High school. Misawa. He added the year from three years ago.

Some news came up about AMK High School winning the regional championship in ice hockey after a final match against KI High School from Hachinohe, the neighboring city. Thinking these articles might have some useful info, he clicked on the top link, leading to a local news website in Aomori. As he skimmed the article and found a list of the players' names.

Fujiwara. Position: Center.

It was definitely him, the neighbor. Another quick search told him that Center is critical position in ice hockey. Center players are score makers, they play offense and defense effectively and often set up the rhythm of the game. Suddenly, Fujiwara's slender physique made sense to him, it boosted his agility on the rink.

There was a picture of the competing teams, but the players' faces were too small. He could be here, Haru wondered, as he squinted his eyes and zooming in on each blurry face, hoping to see a resemblance to the the photo in the soul altar across the street. He focused so hard that his eyes started to ache. With those helmets and padded uniforms, there was no way for him to recognize any of those faces, not even Fujiwara's.

He read the news twice and checked another one from a different website for additional clues. The news was pretty much similar, describing how exciting the match went. Fujiwara-san's team wasn't expected to reach the final, but they managed to defeat all their competitors before facing the Hachinohe team.

Or maybe he wasn't on the team, he pondered. Perhaps he was just a classmate. There must be a yearbook somewhere, but without a name, Haru could find neither anything.

He yawned and rubbed his sore eyes. It was thirty past eleven. Glancing across the street, he noticed the light was on in the neighbor's apartment, and the curtains were up.

Haru almost squealed with joy.

Fujiwara sat in the same position as before. This time, he wasn't busy working on the secret project but rather in a pensive state, staring out the window.

What is he thinking? Haru asked himself.

Suddenly the neighbor noticed him. Haru instinctively wanted to duck, but Fujiwara's gaze seemed to freeze his muscles. Gathering his courage, Haru decided to hold eye contact.

Fujiwara gave him a faint smile.

Perhaps he was just sleepy.

Fujiwara turned towards the laid-out futon in his room and then pointed at him. Haru shook his head and lifted his computer, acting busy. Fujiwara nodded in understanding and then clasped his hands in front of his chest, mimicking a Shinto priest. Haru made an 'Okay' symbol with his finger. They both got off their desks.

Haru turned off his light, mulling over what had just happened. Was Fujiwara really sleepy, or did he withdraw to dismiss him? Befriending Fujiwara felt like looking at a fish under a frozen lake; Haru could see the fish but couldn't reach it. Nishii-san took a year to break through that wall. Haru had only known Fujiwara for two and a half months now. He had four years to finish university, plenty of time to get to know Fujiwara.

Haru's phone buzzed, and he squinted to look at the lit-up screen in the darkness. It was a new message from the neighbor.

"Sorry, I can't go to Odaiba with you."