Meeting Komi After School Here

Komi Shouko was crying in earnest now. Silent, beautiful, horrible tears. Her shoulders shook.

A tiny, genuine smile.

The strap of her loafer wasn't a complex knot. It was a simple buckle. But the leather was stiff and new, and her fingers, elegant and long, just couldn't seem to get the necessary grip. Her knuckles were white. Meeting Komi After School

She shook her head violently. Then, with the slow, deliberate motion of someone pushing a boulder uphill, she reached into her own bag and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. She flipped it open to a fresh page, her hand shaking as she uncapped a pen. Komi Shouko was crying in earnest now

"The buckle is stiff," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. "Mine did the same thing last week." A tiny, genuine smile

Another tear fell onto the notebook page, smudging the ink. She quickly wrote underneath: