to pat her on the head… even after returning home, she couldn’t stop herself from fixating on the memory. How gentle his touch was, the warmth from his hand, the way his fingers got caught in her hair as she jumped away… The memory replayed itself over and over, causing no small amount of distress to her racing heart.

She tried not to look as the app flashed open, quickly showing her a feed of Akira’s recent texts. Futaba raced her mouse over the X, but before she could click, something caught her eye. And once she saw something, no matter how brief the glimpse, she could never forget it.

It was a text conversation with Ryuji, on the date of the school festival. The message was a question withlate enough that she could sleep, if she really wanted to. Best to get to tomorrow as fast as possible, she surmised as she climbed into her bed. Just… conk out and move on to tomorrow.

After much time and effort, Futaba arrived at her destination of “tomorrow”, if not quite a bit late. Her sleepless night had been consumed by 97 different fantasies(and a rapid expenditure of energy so her body would finally go to sleep). Of those, half of them were things she couldn’t bear to recall in a place as public and G-rated as the streets of Yongen. Most of the remaining half were elaborate date ideas--many of which lead into the first half. Those that remained were the ones that plagued her as she stared