Even Though I'm Told I Now Have Wings

1.

The long season of rain had ended, and only a single petal-like cloud floated in the night sky, illuminated by the crescent moon. The breeze that entered the room was warm, despite the time of night, and seemed to herald the coming of summer. Although I became aware of the house lights scattered about in the distance, I continued to press the organ's keys, my eyes scanning a sheet of music.

I memorized the basic progression of notes that flowed out and then proceeded to slowly hum the tune. I felt a little embarrassed when imagining how far this "la-la-la" melody of mine might carry through a night this silent, and my voice became soft.

As if drowning in the sound myself, I hummed the same song countless times. At last, I had become nearly satisfied with the accuracy of my pitch and took a deep breath, intending to add the lyrics on my next attempt.

At that moment, a voice called to me from the other side of the sliding door.

"Eru."

It was my father.

It was incredibly rare for him to come all the way to my room to call for me. Perhaps the organ, or maybe my humming, had been too loud. I timidly responded.

"Yes?"

"Come to the shrine room."

As usual, his voice was serious, but he didn't appear to be angry. I was relieved, yet all the more struck by how mysterious it was. The shrine room was often used when there was something important to discuss, but I couldn't possibly imagine what there was to talk about.

"I'll be there shortly."

The sound of footsteps faded away. It seemed that today's practice was complete. I closed the lid of the organ and shut the window.

Suddenly, as I left my room, I became inexplicably hesitant. What exactly was it that he wanted to talk about? For no particular reason, I felt a terrible apprehension.

—Maybe I could just continue to hum instead?

Even thoughts like these passed through my head at that moment.

Of course I couldn't. As I approached the moment of truth, I somehow managed to steel my nerves a little. I smiled as I thought about my earlier moment of panic and turned off the lights in my room. Beyond the window, across which the curtains had not been closed, a small cloud drifted in front of the moon.

2.

After completing their finals, solely waiting for the start of summer break, all of Kamiyama High School had been enveloped by an atmosphere of lethargy; the Earth Sciences lecture room was no exception. That said, it's not like I could really say that this kind of atmosphere wasn't the norm from the start. I had the feeling that it was the first time in a long while that all four members were gathered in the clubroom at the same time.

Each of us sat in whichever seat we wanted, in a room that could fit an entire class. That said, it wasn't like any of us were that far apart from another. We all tended to sit somewhat close to the center.

Chitanda and I were silently reading. My book was about a ninja, a princess, and their illegitimate child; their story consisted entirely of a rapid succession of major incidents, all completely devoid of any subtle literary workings or underpinnings, with each chapter simply showing someone getting into some kind of pinch or another. There wasn't a single difficult aspect about it—a truly pleasant read. For a mind like mine, one that had been ravaged by tests, I can say it was an undeniably perfect fit.

I had no idea what Chitanda was reading. It was a large book abundant with photos, so I assumed it might be something like a travel guide, but I couldn't see it very well from where I was sitting, nor did I really even make the effort to do so. At any rate, it didn't appear to be very interesting as even Chitanda herself stared vacantly at its pages.

Ibara and Satoshi were scribbling over and over all over an open notebook and talking about who-knows-what with each other… But as I paused between my chapters and peeked at the two, it appeared that Ibara was the one leading the discussion. With a pen in her hand and a conflicted expression, she spoke.

"It's the hand. The problem has to be the hand," she muttered.

Satoshi nodded, as if in complete agreement. "I see, the hand, huh?"

"This guy can't use his right hand... Actually, if I could draw it like it was a psychological thing—that he didn't want to use it instead—that could set up some good foreshadowing."

"I see, foreshadowing, huh?"

It appeared they were outlining the plot to a manga.

Ever since Ibara had left the manga research society, she hadn't shown any reserve with regards to drawing manga. Simply put, maybe because both Chitanda and I had known about her creations, there wasn't any point in feeling embarrassed or trying to hide it. Or perhaps quitting the manga society had caused something within her to change.

Ever since the beginning, it had been decided that Chitanda would inherit her family's business. With Ibara also being resolute in her passions, only Satoshi's and my pathetic indecision was brought to the fore. What a troubling situation.

...No, the two of us were normal. These 11th graders with absolutely no uncertainty regarding their future pursuits—these two girls who only wanted to refine their beloved skills—they were the strange ones.

"It'd be fine if I made someone ask him 'What happened to your hand?' but he's alone in this scenario. Looking at your own hand and then breaking out into some sort of self-deprecating speech feels so forced too... What should I do...?"

"I see, alone, huh?"

As he listened with a huge grin, Satoshi added only this.

"What do you do when you're alone?"

"What do I do... um..."

Without even acknowledging him, Ibara crossed her arms and glared up at the ceiling. Finally, her eyes suddenly sparkled and she spoke up.

"I see! Nice job Fuku-chan, that's it! I didn't have to think very hard about it after all. Why did I try to make it so complicated? All I have to do is make him drink some coffee. He'll try to hold the coffee in his right hand, but in the next panel do it with his left instead. Yeah, that's natural, that's what I'll do."

I had no clue what was going on, but it looked like she thought up a nice idea. Ibara drew some broad strokes in the notebook, and then finally closed it with an emphatic "Okay!"

"Did you finish the first step?"

"For the most part. I can't start drawing yet, but with this, I think I can basically visualize the completed product."

"Good to hear."

And then Satoshi added, "This time, at least tell me what kind of story it will be."

So he had essentially been offering remark after remark to her monologue without knowing what kind of story it was. I didn't know whether I should've been disappointed in him or simply impressed.

Perhaps relieved after overcoming that hurdle, Ibara spoke with somewhat less enthusiasm than before.

"Speaking of coffee, something strange happened to me a while back."

"Oh really?"

"I went to an art supplies shop in Kiryuu, but..."

"Kiryuu? Why would you go that far?!"

Although Satoshi was the one that interrupted her story, I understood where he was coming from. Kiryuu was the northernmost part of this city and even by car took up to twenty minutes to reach from Kamiyama High School. From Ibara's house, it could take an hour at worst. There should be at least one art supplies store nearby. With a somewhat irritated expression, she responded.

"Yeah, the thing is... there's an old tone that I can only get at that shop. I don't use it much, but it was just in case."

"Huh, I see."

What on earth is a tone? I suppose I could at least guess that it was something used when drawing a manga. I wasn't really interested in eavesdropping any more so I decided to return to my book, only to notice that my wristwatch nearing 5:00. If I were to start a new chapter now, I undoubtedly wouldn't be able to finish it before the school gates close. I decided to save it for when I return home and closed the book. Possibly noticing my movements, Ibara turned to face me.

"Oreki, listen to this, too."

"I already am."

"Oh yeah? So, after I finished shopping, I ended up getting really thirsty and decided to go to a nearby café since finals had just ended and all. Apparently they had really good coffee, so I got that, and, like, it had this weird taste. I wonder why."

"I'm imagining you getting coffee in a café. You're just like Houtarou." Satoshi suppressed a laugh.

Ibara grumpily puffed out her cheeks. "It was research, just research! Hey, I was able to think of something good because of it, wasn't I?"

"I know, I know. So? Why was the taste weird?"

Although it was essentially an obligation to Satoshi, I had gone to cafes several times. It wasn't to the extent that I could appreciate the subtle differences between different types of coffee, but I could at least distinguish a good one from a bad one. That said, for the life of me, I couldn't imagine what a weird-tasting coffee might taste like.

Ibara dismissingly waved her hand in front of her face. "Oh, by 'weird taste,' I was talking about the sugar."

I was becoming more and more confused. Sugar is sweet; that much doesn't change. Satoshi looked confused as well, but he eventually broke out into a smile.

"I understand. It was sour, right?"

"...Fuku-chan, you're making fun of me, aren't you."

"I'm just having a little fun."

Ibara glared at his nonchalant smile for a little bit, but then finally let out a small sigh. "That's not it. It was sweet."

"Wasn't it normal then?" Satoshi and I unexpectedly responded at the same time.

Ibara slammed her fist down on the desk with a thud. "We're having this discussion right now because I'm saying it wasn't!"

Yes ma'am.

Ibara glared at the both of us as if to make sure our mouths were thoroughly glued shut and then continued. "It wasn't just sweet, it was extremely sweet. I've never had anything like it other than those over-sweetened canned coffees, so I was really surprised."

"Didn't you just put too much in?" I replied, and then, as if apologizing for not giving enough information, she abruptly nodded her head.

"Let's see. Starting from the beginning, I ordered a coffee and cake set. It was a lemon cake and honestly not that sweet, in my opinion. They asked me if I wanted milk and sugar and I told them that I did. The coffee that the server brought out had the milk in it already, and then there were two sugar cubes placed on the saucer. I took one sip and thought it was pretty normal, so I added one cube and tasted it again and… well... it was basically sugar water at that point."

Satoshi nodded gently. "So, it was a sugar cube, huh... If they gave you a small bowl of sugar and a spoon, I could understand why it might be too sweet; you might've simply added too much in that case."

"It was quite shocking for a single sugar cube to turn it that sweet, so I couldn't help but think it was strange. I've been thinking about it a lot since then, but nothing else was out of the ordinary."

Satoshi crossed his arms and tilted his head in thought. "Hmm, overly sweet sugar, huh?"

"Right? It's strange, right?"

"It is, but that's not to say I can't think of a reason why."

Ibara leaned forward. "Really?"

Satoshi nodded solemnly. "There are sweeteners that are hundreds—no, thousands—of times sweeter than sugar. If you added as much of them as you would normal sugar, of course you'd get something ridiculously sweet."

"Hmph!" Ibara gave a single dissatisfied grunt and then continued with a wary expression. "Sure it was really sweet, but, just like I said earlier, it wasn't as undrinkable as canned coffee is for me. And besides, have you ever seen a shop that gives you sweetener in the shape of a sugar cube?"

"No, I haven't. I can't even imagine something like that existing."

Then why did you even mention it?

"Maybe it was some kind of strong tasting sugar. For example, it used a different manufacturing process, or maybe it came from a difference source."

Satoshi uncrossed his arms and turned his head to look at Chitanda.

"Hey, Chitanda-san. Do you have any idea?"

"Huh?" Chitanda, who had been absentmindedly reading a book, raised her head as if suddenly being brought back to reality by Satoshi's question. "Uh, about what?"

Our voices had been fairly loud while we were talking, however it appeared that not an ounce of it reached her ears. With a large grin, Satoshi responded. "Mayaka was talking about how she went to a café and did this and that, and how they brought out some sugar cubes for her. We were thinking that there might've been something special about it that made it sweeter than normal sugar. Don't you know a lot about different kinds of foods?"

"Oh, that's what it was."

Chitanda closed the book in her hands and smiled, but I suddenly felt an unsettling discomfort from her expression. From the very beginning, she was a reserved person. She didn't smile wide, get angry, or say anything bluntly. And yet, even after ruling that out, her current smile looked stiff, almost like it was manufactured.

Chitanda responded in a soft voice. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure. We don't grow sugarcane or sugar beet."

"I see. I was thinking you might've produced it at some point."

She immediately casted her eyes downwards, only slightly.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Gotcha. My bad, my bad. Sorry for asking such a strange question. I wonder what the deal with the sweet sugar is then. It's surprisingly difficult to solve. I'm a little curious."

"Yes, I wonder."

Judging by how she responded, since she couldn't enter the conversation, it seemed she was thinking about something else after all.

Ibara stared at me as if trying to say something. If I had to guess, it was probably something along the lines of "Doesn't Chi-chan look a little off? Do you know anything?" I shook my head to add an "I have no idea."

Our unspoken conversation created an awkward silence during the break in discussion. As if trying to salvage the conversation, Satoshi spun around to face me and asked a question. "What do you think, Houtarou? Do you think it was a special type of sugar after all?"

Listening to the conversation, a thought did in fact cross my mind at one point. I didn't see any real need to bring it up as long as I wasn't asked, but now that I have been, I didn't see any real need to keep quiet about it either.

"I don't think it's as difficult as you're making it out to be," I responded.

"Wait, really?" Satoshi looked astonished.

On the other hand, Ibara's eyes came alive. "What do you mean? Weren't you listening? I didn't see anything other than a normal sugar cube."

"Then it was probably just a normal sugar cube."

"Was it that my taste was off after all?"

"I thought you were insisting that wasn't the case." I scratched my head. "Didn't you mention it earlier—what happened to the coffee that the server brought for you?"

Satoshi responded immediately. "She said that the saucer had two sugar cubes on it."

"That's right, but I'm not talking about the sugar cubes."

Both Ibara and Satoshi became quiet as puzzled expressions appeared on their faces. I glanced at Chitanda out of the corner of my eye, and while it seemed she was listening somewhat, she stared blankly as if she had no idea I just asked a question.

"Ibara. When you ordered the coffee, what did the shopkeeper ask you?"

"I already told you. They asked if I wanted milk and sugar."

"Was that was they said, word-for-word?"

Ibara looked down as if retracing her memories and then finally shook her head. "I can't remember it very well."

"I might've sounded a bit harsh when I asked that, sorry. It's only natural to forget something like that. I was just thinking that maybe they asked, 'Would you like us to add milk and sugar?'"

She nodded.

"But I had taken a sip and then added the sugar cube because I thought it was too bitter. That shouldn't have been the case if the sugar was in it from the very beginning."

"You'd think so. By the way, what did you do after you put in the sugar cube?"

"I drank it."

"No, I mean before that."

"I had the lemon cake, but—"

"I'm not talking about that."

Chitanda, who had been merely listening up until that point, timidly began to speak.

"Umm... Maybe what Oreki-san's talking about is the fact that you mixed it."

Hearing that, Satoshi immediately spoke up. "Oh, that's it!" He turned to Ibara and continued enthusiastically. "That's right. The coffee that Mayaka drank had sugar in it from the very beginning, but the problem was that it had sunk to the bottom, so you didn't taste any sweetness. After you mixed in the sugar cube on top of that—"

Ibara also exclaimed with the realization. "I see. It had the potency of two sugar cubes mixed into it at once."

"Yeah, that does seem pretty likely. That has to be it."

After saying that, Satoshi nodded with deep satisfaction and then turned to smile at me.

"I gotta say, you're quite the armchair detective, aren't you?"

It's not like I came up with anything ingenious… It could probably just be chalked up as a lapse of memory from the involved party—Ibara.

But, Ibara, on the other hand, hesitantly responded: "Yeah... I guess it does make sense, but... my memory is hazy; I get the feeling that I can't say with 100% certainty that that's the answer. I feel like maybe I should go one more time to confirm it."

Considering that the cafe was next to the art supplies store she frequented, she'd probably have the chance to go again in the future. At any rate, there was nothing more we could do with the information we had. Thinking it was about time to go home, I began to pack away my paperback.

At that moment, Satoshi suddenly piped up. "Let's go to confirm it then."

As I proceeded to wish the two of them good luck on their travels...

"We have to start working on the anthology after all," he continued.

"That's true. You do have a point there."

"Right?"

In order to prepare for the eventual culture festival, we certainly did not need to travel all the way outside the city; staying at the school would suffice. At the same time, however, a trip to a cafe to resolve the mystery behind the overly sweet sugar wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea. I refrained from reacting.

All I said was, "It would get too late if we left now."

The clock on the wall read 5:40.

"That's a good point. Then tomorrow"—he paused—"actually I'm busy then. I have student council business."

Tomorrow was the end-of-term ceremony. Being a member of the general council, Satoshi likely had stuff to do.

"Will the day after tomorrow work?"

Not that I cared, but doing preparation work on the first day of summer break would be quite diligent of us. Ibara didn't seem to have any objections either. Just as I assumed it would be a done deal, Chitanda spoke in a small voice almost like a whisper.

"I'm sorry. I'll be preoccupied that day."

Ibara's face suddenly changed. "Ah, that's right. I forgot."

Neither Satoshi nor I had said a thing, but a stiff, impermeable atmosphere suddenly overtook the room. Ibara faced us then continued.

"Chi-chan's performing in the choir festival," she said.

"So that's what it was. I guess that day won't work then."

Satoshi nodded, seemingly convinced, but I was left confused. This school had been feverishly enhanced with event after event, starting with the culture festival, but I had never once heard of the choir festival.

"They put on something like that over summer break? Do they have it in the gym?"

I received two cold stares in response.

"Of course not."

"It's an event hosted by the city."

So it wasn't a school activity. I guess that only makes sense; no matter how much I averted my gaze from the energy on this campus, there was no way I'd go without even knowing an event existed. What a relief.

"It's called the Ejima Choir Festival, named after Sandou Ejima, a famous composer from Kamiyama city. They do it every year round this time. Choir groups come from not only Kamiyama city, but nearby towns as well. They sing all sorts of choir pieces, not just those that Sandou wrote."

"Never heard of him before."

This kind of topic was Satoshi's area of expertise and his alone. He seemed aware of this himself, and his ego inflated accordingly.

"He was a writer of nursery rhymes in the Taisho era children's magazine, 'Red Candle.' He wrote alongside Hakushuu Kitahara, Yaso Saijou, and Ujou Noguchi. Together, they were dubbed the 'four heavenly kings of children's songs. '"

That last 'kings' bit was undeniably made up by Satoshi.

"I was invited by Chi-chan to participate, so I went to a practice once; but now that I want to work on my manga..." Ibara mentioned somewhat apologetically. While she said this to me, it was likely aimed in part at Chitanda as well, though she didn't say anything in return. She might not have been aware that Ibara was talking about her at all.

The Classics Club was of course only one of many activities in Kamiyama High School, and outside of the things that classmates and students in the same year did with each other naturally, there was nothing else connecting us. I didn't know each and every thing that happened outside of the school, nor did I even think it was important to know in the first place. It's because of this mentality that the thought of Chitanda and Ibara performing together in a choir only came as a light surprise.

Satoshi rested his hands behind his head. "Well, let's decide when we should meet some other time, then. We can talk about it over the phone."

Although he mentioned this nonchalantly, he essentially said he would be taking care of it himself. He really was the type of person who took on more work than anyone else and did it without any pomp and circumstance; I really respected him for that.

"Yes, that will be fine."

With Chitanda's reply, it seemed that at least today's activities were over. The days were long at this point in the summer; even though it was nearing 6:00, there was no trace of the nighttime sky.

I put my novel in my bag and stood up. "Well then, I'll be going now."

"Oh yeah, see ya."

I wasn't intent on peeking, but as I was leaving the lecture room, I caught a glimpse of the book Chitanda was reading. It might've just been my imagination, but it appeared to be something along the lines of a career guide.

3.

On the first day of summer break, I made myself chilled noodles.

Perhaps due to the ominous clouds lurking in the sky all afternoon, looking as if they'd bring rain at any moment, it was somewhat chilly out as it neared lunchtime despite the summer just beginning. I couldn't exactly say it was a perfect day for chilled noodles, but I couldn't really change the menu since the noodles expired today.

I mixed a rough amount of vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil, and mirin to throw together a quick sauce and then cooked and rinsed the noodles. The toppings I chose were tomatoes, ham, and a thinly cooked omelet wrapping that I had accidently forgotten on the stove and let burn a little. I cut the tomato into several chunks and the ham and egg into thin strips. I couldn't care less about the presentation, so I dried the noodles, piled them on a plate, and then simply dropped a handful of the toppings on top. Finally, I quickly poured the sauce over it and added the finishing touch: a dash of mustard to the edge of the plate.

I took the plate from the kitchen to the living room and prepared some chopsticks and barley tea; with that, the preparations were complete. As I readied myself to enjoy the meal, taking the chopsticks in hand, the phone started to ring.

I stubbornly ignored it as it continued to ring and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. While I was ready to be utterly offended that they had called right in the middle of lunchtime, it had already turned 2:30PM. Since the sun had started to shine in the afternoon, I took the laundry out to dry; it must have taken longer than I thought. I couldn't exactly claim that the caller had a lack of common sense. I stared intently at the chilled noodles in front of me. Maybe I should be thankful that I chose a noodle dish that wouldn't go stale. I stood up, swaying back and forth, and picked up the receiver.

"Yes," I replied in a voice that you couldn't really blame for being as irritated as it was.

"Hello, my name is Ibara. Is Oreki-san currently home?"

As much as I wanted to tell her that he wasn't, her voice seemed tense, so I couldn't bring myself to joke around.

"Ibara?"

"Oh, Oreki. Thank god. What the heck was up with that deep voice just now?"

"I was just about to eat lunch."

"I see, sorry about that. In that case, don't worry about—"

The fact that she called me definitely meant that something had happened. I had no choice but to let the chilled noodles sit for a little longer.

"I don't mind. What is it?"

"The thing is..."

It felt like I could hear hesitation from the other end of the call. She finally asked.

"Do you know any places Chi-chan might go?"

I moved the receiver to my other hand.

"...Why are you asking me?"

Her response carried a harsh tone.

"I called everyone I could think of. You're the last one."

"I see."

I wanted to ask her what had happened, but I could tell her back was up against the wall. The explanation would have to wait until later.

"My first guess would probably be the school."

"Yeah."

"After that would be the city library. There's the place next to Kaburaya Middle School—what's it called—the café that we went to with Ohinata. There's also Pineapple Sand, though it moved."

I continued to offer her names as I thought of places Chitanda might go. In the end, however, my best guess was the library. Even I realized that the possibility of her going to a café on her own was slim.

"Got it, thanks. I didn't think of the library. Fuku-chan's doing general committee stuff at the school, so I asked him to look around, but he said her shoes aren't there."

"I see... Did anything happen?" I asked, and remembered what we talked about previously, "Wasn't the choir festival today? Chitanda didn't show up?"

"No, she hasn't."

So that's why she was in such a rush.

"She goes on stage at 6:00, so we still have time, but she's nowhere to be found."

After I heard her say 6:00, somehow I felt the strength leave my body.

"Couldn't she have just slept in?"

"She's not like you."

"Sure, I've been late to things here and there, but I've never once slept past my alarm. Never mind, that's beside the point. Doesn't that mean you just have to delay the preparations a little bit?"

She responded with clear irritation in her voice: "That's not it. There's an old lady saying that she rode the bus with Chi-chan all the way from Jinde, where her house is, to the cultural center."

I guess the choir festival was being held in the city's cultural center. I could bike there from my house in around 10 minutes.

"So then she disappeared after arriving at the cultural center, huh. Considering you're calling even me, I guess that means you've already searched the building."

"Many times. She's nowhere to be found."

I switched hands once more.

"Should I be worried?"

"I don't know. I feel like she'll come in time, but the choir leader ended up getting worried and asked me to call people that know her."

"It might be a bit late to ask this, but why are you there in the first place?"

"Did I tell you I participated in one of the practices? I just thought I'd come to help out as long as it was just for one day."

So that's what it was. "I understand. Well, at any rate, she hasn't shown up here."

I had said that as a joke, hoping it would help calm Ibara down a little as she seemed tense, but she responded coldly instead: "I didn't think she went to your house."

"Is that so."

"...Well, thanks anyways. I'm hanging up now."

"Sure."

The line disconnected. I set the receiver down and turned back to my chilled noodles.

It had one huge advantage that normal soba didn't: I wouldn't burn myself. I could eat it in however short of a period I'd like.

The Kamiyama City Cultural Center was a four-story tall building covered in red tiles that resembled bricks; it was separated into two areas, one large hall and one small hall, both of which gave a grand impression. I didn't know how many people each could hold at first, but from looking at the information board, the large hall had around 1200 people and the smaller one 400. A signboard reading "Ejima Choir Festival" stood in the black marble atrium beyond the entranceway with a fair number of people walking about.

The choir festival itself had apparently started at 2:00. The fact that there were still four more hours before Chitanda went on stage was a testament to the sheer number of choir groups that must've been participating. Or perhaps there was an afternoon segment and an evening segment. Either way, there was nothing written on the signboard that revealed the answer to me.

I went to the information counter and started speaking to the clerk dressed in a light blue uniform.

"Um..."

The clerk was a woman who, even after seeing I was a student, retained her cheery, polite attitude.

"Yes. How may I help you?"

At that moment, I suddenly had a vicious realization. I didn't know the name of the choir group that Chitanda belonged to. I thought if I went to the group's waiting room I'd be able to meet up with Ibara, but because of this I had no way of asking.

"Um..." The clerk's cheery attitude changed into confusion.

"Oh, sorry."

I thought for a second about how to construct my question.

Ah! I guess there wasn't any reason to worry.

"Could you tell me where the waiting room is for the group that performs at 6:00?"

The clerk smiled brightly at me and then started to search through some files in her hands.

"At 6:00 is the Kamiyama Mixed Chorus. Their room is A7, on the second floor."

As I expected, it was a pretty straightforward name. I thanked her and proceeded to go to the second floor.

I quickly found my destination: the A7 waiting room. Judging by the space between the doors leading to its neighboring rooms, the space inside was probably around 20 square meters. The door was off-white, almost gray, and made of metal. On it, held up by a piece of scotch tape, was a sheet of printer paper reading "Kamiyama Mixed Chorus." The metal looked as if it would ring like a gong if knocked, so I skipped that and simply opened it.

The person inside looked at me as if someone flicked them in the face. It was Ibara. Once she realized it was me that entered, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Hey." I held up a hand as I came inside.

As I did that, my foot got caught on an umbrella stand propped up next to the door. It looked rather unsteady, and, even though I didn't think I put much force into it, it toppled over. The umbrella it held rolled out onto the carpet.

"Whoops."

"What the hell are you doing?!"

It was supposed to be something along the lines of "the brave reinforcements have arrived," but I ended up having a terrible first step. An elderly woman sitting in a folding chair nearby said, "Oh dear," and went to stand up. It guess it was her umbrella.

"Sorry." I apologized while putting the stand upright and placing the umbrella back in it. My hands ended up getting wet, so I pulled my handkerchief out of my pocket and wiped them off.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry."

The lady said only this as she sat back down. She wore a black jacket and a black skirt, reminiscent of mourning attire, and the way she sat up straight left a strong impression.

Waiting Room A7 was just as large as I had initially imagined from the hallway, but the room was surprisingly sparse, giving it a deserted feeling. Aside from the ten or so folding chairs set up in the room, there was only a single desk lined up next to the wall bordering the hallway–nothing more. The desk was being used to hold personal belongings; on it was a row of bags. Along the other walls were more folding chairs stacked up against each other in their closed positions. Possibly due to their performance still being some time away, only Ibara and the elderly woman were in the room. Ibara jumped up and came over to me. As if forgiving me for my earlier umbrella mishap, the first thing she said was: "You came. Thanks."

Although we had discussed this over the phone, I could only think about how intrusive I was. Who am I to recklessly stick my head into problems unrelated to school? And yet, well, I thought it'd be too heartless to simply continue pulling apart strands of chilled noodles while knowing that something this troubling was happening so close by. With that, I decided to come. That said, being appreciated like this gave me a somewhat awkward feeling. For some reason, I averted my eyes from Ibara's gaze and looked around the room.

"It looks like Chitanda is still missing."

"That's right. She doesn't have a cellphone either..."

"When was she supposed to be here?" As I said this, I briefly glanced at my wristwatch. It was almost 3:30.

"1:00."

"That's pretty early, isn't it?"

"The choir group representatives had to go on stage when the concert started at 2:00. Chi-chan was supposed to go."

"There was an opening event, huh? So then her real performance is at 6:00. Have the other members arrived?"

"Everyone who was supposed to come in the afternoon came in time—they're currently listening to the other groups sing. The members that join us in the evening are supposed to show up around 5:00."

If that was the case, even if Chitanda didn't show up at 5:00, there shouldn't be any major effect on the group as a whole. That was a small relief, but the fact that Chitanda suddenly disappeared after coming to the center without telling anybody wasn't a small issue.

I was worrying a little bit about whether or not I should tell her what was on my mind, but considering Ibara seemed to be almost desperately anxious, I had to ask.

"Do you really need Chitanda?"

"What?"

"In a chorus, a lot of people are singing, right? Of course it's not ideal, but missing only one person shouldn't pose any real problems, right?"

Ibara shook her head. "That won't work."

"Why not? Are her parents coming or something?"

"They may be coming, but that's not the problem... Chi-chan has a solo."

Dear god. I looked up at the ceiling.