A dark, boundless void opened in Ryou's eyes as he woke up in an unknown place. The fog that filled that void shook through the place with every scream and wail of the memorable woman's voice. Sparks of fire rang in the guy's ears, from which strange, unfamiliar fragments of life flowed out. Time after time, these fragments complemented each other, but Ryou did not remember them. His indifferent gaze stared into the thickening darkness. These fragments flowed away in quick jerks that it was impossible to comprehend the existence of these memories. Whether they were memories, the young man did not know.

In one fragment, he and Tomoyuki were sitting in an empty library, his hands clutching one book.

In another fragment, in a dark room, Yumiko took a white, small pill in a hurry. Her hands trembled and tears kept flowing down the brown-eyed girl's cheeks in an abnormal panic. All her thoughts dissolved into unknowing sadness, tearing all the warmth in her heart over and over until it was filled with doubt.

Next, a cold, pale autumn appeared in his eyes. The guy and the rest of the club were strolling through a small park he hadn't seen before. A narrow path led directly to wooden benches.

Following, he felt the sharp cry of broken glass, throwing back hundreds of glass crumbs that reflected familiar faces and events that had happened to Ryou during his time in Tokyo. At a brisk pace, various voices of familiar people were heard around him, which made his consciousness shiver. A coldness enveloped his entire glow-in-the-dark body, and Ryou covered himself with an invisible blanket. He looked at the galactic space that appeared above him, composed of stars and planets. Ryou's eyes glazed over at the swiftly falling star. In a split second, the white star, emitting fire from itself, fell right on his head. The boy's ears ringing with angry heat ceased, and all that remained was dead silence.

Calamity.

Ryou slowly opened his sleepy eyes, waking up in his favorite room, on his bed. When the ringing in his ears stopped, the boy forgot all about the strange dream, which in a way seemed like a vision to him. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall by the shelf, the young man decided to start his new morning with a murdered look, and sloppily readjusted his bed as he stood up.

Opening the unremarkable curtains and drapes, through which the typical morning sunshine did not come out, Ryou saw the sketchy, monotonous weather outside, laced with strong winds. The forecast from the television set on in the living room said that a storm was coming today.

"A storm?" asked Ryou perplexedly, eating breakfast at the kitchen table. "Does it happen in Tokyo?"

"Not often," responded the busy woman cleaning up the extra dining items on the dark-white tabletop, like the rest of the kitchen. "Mostly, it heralds a sudden change in weather for the next few days, and hail."

"Hail? I've never seen it with my own eyes before."

"Maybe it'll come with the rains. Our summer is so lacking in rain."

"And grayness."

"You can feel the grayness in the fall. It's rare in summer."

"Whatever's meant to happen always does."

Obviously, the gray, majestic clouds suggested a heavy rain that would engulf the entire city. From these clouds that reigned over the immense sky, the glow of the rising sun faintly emanated, and the light dulled all the colors around it, serving them in a pale, dreary tone. Today's melancholy caught Tokyo on its meanest day, a business Monday, when people need a burst of optimism to stimulate in them the urge to go to work or to school. After finishing his meal, Ryou stepped into his room, dressed in school uniform.

At leisure that same morning, Tomoyuki wandered deliberately down a vacant street with private, modest houses. He found the strength to call one caller and announce his imminent arrival. Once at the outside gate, Tomoyuki clenched his fists and took a firm breath, pushing his chest forward and exhaling with all determination. As he opened the gate, he stepped into the courtyard of a one-story private house. His raised eyes caught sight of a woman's silhouette, with arms crossed, on the porch awaiting the young man's arrival. Pressing her shoulder against the wall of the house, the woman stared at the teenager standing there with tortured eyes. Smiling heavily, this woman, with her soul torn because of a dead loved one, finally said:

"It's been a long time since you came, Tomoyuki-kun."

"Hello, Matsuoka-san. I'm glad to see you again."

"Came to see Takashi?"

"Yes," the guy's eyes shook slightly. Tomoyuki's long-awaited stamina and confidence in preparation were gone, as was all his will in showing fear.

"Please. He'll be glad to see you. Oh, what good fortune to have you visiting us, Tomoyuki-kun."

Tomoyuki silently stepped down the path toward the house. As he climbed the steps of the porch, his heart rate quickened, and as the hard pounding of his heart sounded within him, Tomoyuki stopped on the last step.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," the shadows of his hair covered his dark eyes. "It's been a long time since I've been here," he barely squeezed out a smile, and opened the front door.

The guest stopped in front of the door to one of the two rooms as he walked up the floor. His blue eyes were wide with daze. The woman stood on the stairs with only lowered eyelashes, looking bitterly at the schoolboy. Tomoyuki imagined his whole hand, stained with an abundance of someone else's blood, slowly flowing to the floor. The bloody hand tugged at the doorknob, revealing the entrance to a room that looked as dim as the rest of the house because of the overcast weather. Tomoyuki's thoughts emptied and he stepped foot into the room, closing the door. He was alone with himself in a room that reeked of the fragrance of the present and decency. Like the screams of hell, the grinding in his ears ceased, and feeling the silence and smoothness of the pale room, he approached the wooden table placed in the corner near the window, on which were arranged family albums, a plate with an unlit candle and a remarkable looking frame with a portrait of a certain young man, looking the same age as Tomoyuki. The dark brown color of his hair, like that of the woman in the house, and the sharp eyes that gave a mocking effect recalled Tomoyuki, and he approached this portrait. Carefully examining the image, which did not seem to have much detail, the young man clenched his elbow with his other hand and sat down beside the table.

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"Excuse me, Takashi-kun," he pronounced, looking at the unmoving image in the frame, "I am still as childlike as I was. Now, I just want to give the hypocritical brat of schoolchildren what they deserve, just like you taught me, Takashi-kun," Tomoyuki added, and then pressed his lips tightly together and said weakly: "The darkness is thickening. I don't know what I should do. I'm in doubt, Takashi-kun, what should I do next? I'm still a child."

The candle glued to the plate was lit by a light flame coming from the lighter that Tomoyuki kept in the inside pocket of his dark, long shirt. Closing his eyes, he was filled with memories from the past: both the good ones associated with him and Takashi, and the bad ones when they had their differences. Fragments of vivid memories passed imperceptibly through the unformed boy's mind. Following the silence, which was broken by the rumble of the street wind, Tomoyuki opened a hard gaze, and said:

"Shining like crystals ruby eyes that present distress to the people around them and take the breath away of those in need... I remember everything. If I am fortunate enough to meet him, I will talk to him about you. You have my promise."

On one bright, nauseatingly routine school day, to the delight of all the members of the literary circle showed up at the study. Sitting around the middle square table, the boys chatted about all the interesting things that had happened to them over the past weekend of everyday life, and their faces were covered with warmth in their smiles. An intoxicating tenderness hung over the study, which, combined with the warm, bittersweet light from the crimson sun, quelled a bunch of negative thoughts at least for now.

"I was wondering," pronounced Yumiko as Tomoyuki finished talking and the boys subsided, "Are you thinking about a future, post-graduation path? For example, what university to go to, or what profession to choose."

"That's something to think about," Glenn replied, "...After all, we have to prove ourselves in the last exam soon. Next comes the hour when the graduates have to decide which institution to apply to."

Yumiko nodded. "We are future graduates. Our whole lives are ahead of us. Have you chosen what you want to do in the future?"

"I'm going into the medical field," the dark-eyed man added, surprising the others with a straight answer. "The truth is, I don't know exactly where I want to go yet," he rubbed the back of his head with a hand of mild embarrassment. "So many choices for medical schools, I could go study in a different country."

"Great goal," Yumiko shook her head, satisfied. The girl had no doubts for Glenn because he can stand up for himself and clearly knows his worth. "You can do it, especially since you learn better than I do," she giggled, glancing back at Ryou next. The boy coughed.

"Sure, I'm not trifling, but... still thinking about where to enroll."

"Come on," Glenn cheered the boy, "You're a better student than I am."

"School grades don't mean anything. I should probably choose a major in my favorite subjects."

Nodding, Yumiko glanced at Tomoyuki, which made him smile and close his eyes.

"The truth is, I don't know where I want to go either," he chuckled, depressed. "I'll decide in the course of the current year, but I have something in mind. Architect," and looked Tomoyuki at Akiko, sitting aloof beside him. After a while, Akiko finally pursed her lips.

"Maybe..." she was confused, "I'll go to be an architect. Or become a merchandiser!"

Gathering all her friends' opinions, Yumiko sated herself with composure and satisfied herself with their free will. Of course, she knew that most teenagers take a long time to decide what they want to do, but to think that people didn't have a choice of their own was just reckless. Everyone had at least once thought about which road to take, or which goal to have. It is their life, and they have the right to decide for themselves. That's how people achieve independence.

The boys all at once shot warm glances at Yumiko, causing her to sway slightly. When she realized that it was her turn, the schoolgirl pressed her hand to her chest and closed the lashes in awe.

"There is so much in this world unexplored by ordinary people," she retorted. "Spacious mountains where the cold reigns forever; reassuringly quiet blue oceans; large nature preserves; and huge waterfalls," Yumiko opened her pretty eyes. "Maybe I'm fooling around, but the thought creeps in, just once to think about the tall, cohesive waterfalls... I want to travel."

"Of course, you have the right to decide your life," Glenn twirled a pencil in his hands. "But a traveler is not a profession."

"I-I understand..." confused Yumiko, whose cheeks were flushed red. "I was just thinking that I want to travel alone when I grow up. I h-have to go into journalism!"

The boys were surprised by the girl's liveliness and the concern in her face. After a second, Glenn chuckled, and Tomoyuki could barely contain his laughter, causing Yumiko to bow her head sideways in perplexity.

"Nothing," Glenn shook his head, "I don't get to see you carried away very often."

"Honestly, honestly!" exclaimed Tomoyuki. "You always look like you're out of this world."

"E-excuse me."

Harmony reigned in the room again, and there was no trace of the confusion in Yumiko's gaze. Thus, she believed in her friends and in their dreams. Days like this did not happen every day at the club, and alas, they rarely got together to discuss their teenage leisure time. These were the days Yumiko became proud of, treasured, and kept in the illusory folder of her happy memories, naturally in her mind. These days, the boys themselves didn't notice, became empowering. After all, most of the participants already considered each other friends, and some had already managed to get much closer, though you couldn't tell by looking at them.

This school week was a harbinger of hot, summer vacations, when the desire to go outside and open windows disappears. Schools at such times send the whole class on summer trips to other cities. The choices on the summer trips were vast, and the purpose of such concerns was to awaken in the youth a love for the country and its traditions. The students, on the other hand, were not opposed to it at all; on the contrary, participating in a summer trip for them was equal to being awarded a medal for honorable studies, and was equal to a luxury.

Outside Yumiko's room, the twilight of the city, illuminated by bright street lights, billboards, and endless traffic, was dazzling. Her room was empty, but light lit up from all corners, inherently leaving shadows at each object. No squeaks could be heard through the closed door of the room, and Yumiko was in one of the other rooms herself. What a lucky day it was for her when mother didn't come home today. Who did she even bother to talk to, the daughter thought with indifference, but she was concerned about other things today. The phone lying on her made-up bed vibrated, and then turned on the screen notifying her of an outgoing call from a known caller. There was no answer from the busy girl. The phone continued to vibrate until finally the call automatically disconnected. That call was missed.

A notification popped up on her touchscreen phone with the missed call and the calling contact signed as "Brother."