On that day, I did nothing but walk on the main road home out of curiosity.
This isn't a shortcut, and I don't plan to go through any specific place.
This is just something I decided to do on a whim.
This part of the avenue was full of skyscrapers and tall apartments, some old, some new, and some abandoned shells, all of which were mixed together on a crowded horizon.
I bet everyone in the city, including me, is tired of watching them day after day.
As I was walking next to the building, I suddenly saw something fall from the roof onto the concrete sidewalk not far in front of me.
It was a person. The moment that person fell, I heard a nauseating sound.
The damp, primitive sound, the things you associate with, the things you don't want to happen anywhere near you.
You will never hear this voice often.
From the height of this person's fall, it was clear that whoever he or she was, he or she died the moment he or she hit the sidewalk.
As I got closer and closer to the point of impact, I was able to observe what was happening more clearly.
All that remained in my mind was the red path that was slowly seeping out of the asphalt, the frail, bony limbs, and the long, black hair that still retained some vivid beauty.
And that dead face.
I pictured a flower pressed between the pages of an old, musty tome.
Perhaps it was because the body with its neck twisted looked like a broken lily to me.
It was a night in early August. As usual, Mikiya visited without any prior notice.
I opened the door with a bang and saw him standing idly in the corridor, facing the entrance, like some kind of servant waiting to be used.
"Good evening, Shiki. You look as lazy as ever,"he said, smiling.
A strange greeting was exactly what I expected him to do.
"Have you heard?"
he continued.
"In fact, there was another suicide today. I was really there this time. A lot of such things have happened recently, but I never thought that I would really encounter such a thing.”
He handed me a plastic bag from a convenience store.
"Here, in the fridge."
He took the bag, stretched out his arm, and untied his shoelaces as he spoke to me.
If it wasn't for multitasking, the dryhouse would be nothing. There were two cups of Haagen-Dazs strawberry ice cream in the bag.
I guess he wanted me to put them in the fridge before they melted.
While checking the contents of the bag, Miyatani had already untied his shoelaces and walked in.
My home is just a small low-rise apartment. Opening the front door, the first thing you see is a small entrance less than a meter long, where you take off your shoes.
After experiencing all that mess, you came to my one-stop bedroom and living room. Mikiya had already started to make herself comfortable there.
I followed him in, staring at his back as I walked.
"Shiki, you skipped class again, didn't you?
Your grades are not important, but please, you should at least go to class.
Don't tell me you've forgotten our promise to go to college together.”
"Smart words have never been said before,"
I replied, feeling particularly harsh.
"Especially from someone who dropped out of school before me. Unfortunately, the promises we should make are meaningless.”
"Shiki, stop being so difficult.”
Mikiya tended to be more outspoken when you cornered him in a conversation, which was a useful tip that I only recently remembered.
I climbed onto the bed and lay flat. Mikiya chose to lean against the bed and sit on the floor with her back facing me.
This young man named Mikiyakoku has been my friend since high school. At least, that's what my brain told me.
My memory has been a little fuzzy recently.
We live in an era where the fashion trends that people want to see and the models that come with them can be changed as easily as the blink of an eye.
Therefore, it was still rare to find someone like Mikiya, who firmly refused to change his student-like appearance.
He didn't dye his hair or make it messy. He didn't tan his skin, wear accessories, or carry a cell phone. He didn't even allow himself to enjoy the simple pleasure of flirting with women.
His manner strikes me as the kind of person you might find more often in lazy English railway stations.
He was 170 centimeters tall, had a gentle personality, and wore a pair of large black-rimmed glasses, which perfectly illustrated this image.
This book comes from：m.funovel.com。