・・・xvii ・・・
As he opened the door, Leo made him a small, strained smile.
"Thanks, Ao. For today," he said quietly. "I'll... see you tomorrow, then."
Ao slightly shook his head.
Tomorrow...?
Leo paused before closing the door.
His back was to Ao.
"Also..." he whispered,
"... I'm sorry."
・・・ xviii ・・・
When the door clicked, the familiar silence descended again.
Ao stared at the entrance to his apartment, just standing there.
Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
The world, it seemed,
was like a fragile bubble.
He was waiting for it to burst at any slight touch.
Leo's last words replayed in his head.
—'I'm sorry'.
'I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry'.
'I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry'.
'I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry'.
'I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry'.
He closed his eyes.
... Why are you the one saying that?
・・・ xix ・・・
He stared at the book on the table.
Slowly, he went over and picked it up.
The familiar touch of the cover somewhat comforted him.
Every inch and every detail was exactly as he had remembered.
He could not be mistaken.
This is reality.
It took him a few seconds to realize that the book was trembling in his grasp.
No—he was the one who was shaking.
Ao blinked and placed it down.
He held up his hands in front of him.
In the distance, he could hear the sound of the rain.
・・・ xx ・・・
'What an ironic story, don't you think?'
"It is."