Gakushuu sees Nagisa by accident.

He is walking - he seems to do that a lot now - and pauses, for a moment, to look into the cafe. A small, insignificant cafe. One tourists might post pictures about, laugh in, forget about when they go home. One the local kids never go to, because they prefer takeout or homemade food.

For him, it meant the world. For them, it meant the world.

He still remembers cold nights and warm jackets; their sniffly noses and tissues; the hazy, fizzy feeling of sneaking out without their families. The cafe was the only one that was open after midnight. So they went there, bought a drink or two with the little money they had, and sat inside until their eyelids grew heavy, along with their hearts.

And he sees Nagisa, on the other side of the cafe window, on another street parallel to his. Their eyes meet, and suddenly, he's inside, ordering a drink and waiting.

"Just a choccy mocha please," a voice says beside him. He freezes, taking a deep breath in. Slowly he looks towards the person next to him.

It's not Nagisa.

His eyes dart to the other entrance, the other window, but Nagisa is gone. He takes his drink, pays and leaves the way he came.