"I'm late I'm late I'm late!"
Anri rushed towards the main school building. He had left his flute in his room – again – which meant a mad dash to the dorms and back – again. If he ran all the way he'd just make it in time for practice…
He was just aware of someone saying, "What do you think, three thousand for this one?" as he rounded a corner and then –
"Oof!"
He was on the ground, glasses skittering away, with small white shapes scattered around him.
"Oy, why don't you watch where you're going, Chikura?" someone demanded irately. It sounded like Kamimura.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Anri peered vaguely up at the blurry face and started feeling around for his glasses.
"Oh, here." Kameyama picked up the glasses and passed them to Anri. Anri gratefully put them on, and by way of apology started to gather up the white things the pair had dropped.
He stopped. And stared.
He was holding Ms Niijima in his hands.
Standing in front of the blackboard, sitting at her desk, talking to a teacher, scolding a student. He held up a photo of her playing the piano, smiling. Aside from when she was at the piano, the only time he'd seen her smile like that had been the last time he'd seen her.
"Heh heh, so Chikura likes the ladies," Kamimura sniggered. "Who'd have thought? If you want one it'll be five thousand yen. They're a rare commodity, you know, since she's off doing that study thing."
"Studying?" Anri repeated. He didn't take his gaze away from the photo.
"Yeah, that piano thing. When's she coming back, anyway?"
"She's not," Anri said softly.
"She's not? What, she quit teaching?"
"She died."
There was a silence.
Kamimura tentatively offered, "So does that mean the value goes up?" but was interrupted by Kameyama thwapping him on the head.
"Ow! Geez, bro, what was that for?"
"Shut up, idiot." Kamiyama gathered up the scattered photos of Ms Niijima and awkwardly offered them to Anri.
"You, uh, you can have these. For her family or something," he said.
"Her family?" Anri looked up, startled. Did she have any? Was there a mother and father somewhere in Winfield, missing their daughter? He realised he didn't know.
Perhaps Leiyard did. Perhaps Leiyard would like a photo to remember her too. She'd thought the world of him, and Anri imagined he missed her too.
Yes. He'd give the pictures to Leiyard the next time he and the twins went to Winfield.
But… maybe it would be all right for Anri to keep just one. He'd loved those times, playing his flute in the music room, Ms Niijima at the piano with one of her rare, truly happy smiles on her face. Her black wings had given her a hard life, he knew, but it seemed that music had been able to give her some peace. In that way, she and Anri had shared a connection.
Lost in thought, his hurry forgotten, Anri made his way towards the music room, clutching the precious photographs to his chest. Her smile may have been gone from the world, but the photos were the proof that their happiness together, however brief, had once been real.