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    Summary

    Kobayashi Keiji turns twenty-five.

    In the month of June I made no arrests and had no new breaks in my cases. I didn't have an excuse to text Hoshi, or at least I didn't have an excuse to text him something he'd definitely respond to. I didn't ask him whether he had checked his calendar, and he never told me whether or not he would be free.

    Some nights I dreamed of the room we had shared: two twin beds, two narrow desks side by side, and a window. Hoshi had liked to keep a standing calendar on his desk where he would write down our class schedules in neat little characters with a red pen. In my dreams I imagined myself flipping through the pages, months flying past me, backwards or forwards, I couldn't tell, just on and on and on with a flick of my finger. I was searching for a point where time would end. But I couldn't find it.

    Language:
    English
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