"Sakuno, just go!"
"B-But-"
"It's just one question!"
Tomoka pushed her forward.
"Tomo-chan, I-"
"It's okay, Sakuno," she replied, brushing her friend's shyness off.
"Um, Ryoma-kun?"
He looked up from his Ponta.
"What?"
"T-That tennis ball I gave you before you went to A-America,"
He tilted the can, drinking the last trickle of grape juice.
"What about it?"
"D-Do you still have it?"
"Oh,"
He threw the now empty can into the nearby bin.
"I think I left it in America."
Silence.
"Ryoma-sama!" yelled Tomoka, hand raised. "I can't believe you'd do that to Sakuno!"
She moved her hand towards his face, thought twice, and let it fall.
She turned to the girl in plaits, who looked about to burst into tears.
"We're leaving, Sakuno," she grabbed her lower arm and led her off.
More silence.
Ryoma took the ball out of his pocket.
He threw it into the air: once, twice.
Then he caught it.
He stared at the words, inked in black marker.
"It was only a joke."