The Moon Moves 3.8 Centimeters Away from the Earth Each Year

2-2

I nodded slightly and replied,

“…I see.”

“Interesting. Most people are shocked when I tell them,” she said with a small laugh.

“…Should I have been more surprised?”

“No, actually, I prefer it this way. The way other people freak out about it is exhausting. You wouldn’t believe the fuss they make.”

To be fair, their reaction was probably normal. A condition that causes gradual blindness isn’t common, and it is undeniably serious.

Losing one’s vision, one of the most vital senses, especially as a high school student just beginning to blossom into life, is heavy news to process.

“They call it retinitis pigmentosa,” she said, running her fingers over the spines of books. “That’s what the doctors told me. I don’t know all the details, but it’s a condition where your vision slowly disappears. Mine just happened to start early—and progress quickly.”

I stayed silent, unsure of how to respond.

Noticing my hesitation, she let out a soft chuckle.

“You look like you don’t believe me.”

“I’m not the type to believe things at face value.”

“So, you’re the skeptical type. Must be tiring to live like that,” she said knowingly. It wasn’t an entirely wrong observation, so I didn’t bother correcting her.

“But anyway,” she shifted the conversation. “You came to the library pretty early today, didn’t you? Most people are still in the lunch line.”

“Well, the same goes for you,” I pointed out.

“True,” she admitted with a chuckle. “I’m on a diet. Lately, I’ve been eating out with friends way too much and gained a ton of weight.”

“Skipping meals isn’t good for you.”

“It’s fine. I ate a lot last night anyway.”

“…I see,” I replied flatly.

“What about you?” she asked, seizing the opportunity before the conversation could peter out.

“The classroom felt too stifling,” I said honestly. I saw no reason to lie. “I just wanted to spend some time alone in a quiet place. Wasn’t all that hungry either.”

“You don’t like crowded places?”

“I just prefer empty ones.”

“Same thing,” she said with a soft laugh.

As she scanned the bookshelves, her eyes landed on the thick book I had put back earlier. She pulled it out and said,

“Mind if I take this?”

I shrugged, trying not to sound too indifferent.

“Go ahead.”

“Great.” She smiled, satisfied. “I just came here to borrow a book, so I’ll be heading out now. It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation with someone from the same elementary school.”

“…Same here.”

“See you around, then.”

She waved lightly and walked toward the entrance where the librarian was. I didn’t bother saying anything else and simply watched her retreating figure.

***

The next day, as I quietly worked in the library, someone plopped down in the seat next to me without warning.

It was her again. She carried the book she’d borrowed yesterday along with another one.

A quick glance revealed the second book’s title—it was a popular novel about the romance between a human girl and a vampire.

While I was a bit surprised, she looked perfectly at ease, nodding her head in greeting before opening her book.

We didn’t exchange much conversation. She was engrossed in her reading, and the fact that we were in a library naturally kept things quiet.

This continued for about a week. At the time, we were little more than two people who occasionally exchanged words while leaving the library together.

And yet, somehow, I found myself spending a precious holiday sitting next to her in the local public library.

It was just past lunchtime when I finished a set of practice problems. Looking up, I noticed her seat was empty.

Glancing around, I didn’t see her. I stretched briefly, easing the stiffness in my body, then decided to look for her.

She was nowhere to be found. I wandered through the library’s maze of bookshelves, but there wasn’t even a silhouette that resembled her.

I stepped out of the reading room and onto the library’s front steps, scanning the area. The morning’s cloudy navy sky had transformed into a bright, clear summer blue.

A kid on a bike was locking it in the rack, their shirt soaked with sweat. Across the street, heat waves shimmered above the asphalt, dizzying even from a distance.

She wasn’t there either.

The oppressive midday heat seemed to reach me even in the shade, and I quickly retreated back inside the library.

What now? I wondered, debating whether to return to my seat. Her absence didn’t really matter. If anything, it was a relief—her presence, while not unpleasant, was a distraction.

Maybe she got bored and left.

Just as I was convincing myself of this, I ran into her near the reading room.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, smiling. “I came back and didn’t see you, so I was about to go looking.”

“Where were you?”

“I got a call from a friend. Good thing I’d put my phone on vibrate earlier—otherwise, I would’ve been labeled the library’s biggest nuisance.”

Judging by how loudly she’d laughed here before, I doubted she cared much about that.

“What did your friend say?”

“She just woke up. Can you believe it? She made plans and didn’t even set an alarm. Well, she apologized, so I’m going to make her treat me later.”

I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Got it.”

“Wait… Were you looking for me?” she asked, laughing softly. “That’s kind of touching.”

“Seems like a waste of effort in hindsight,” I said dryly.

I turned to head back into the reading room, but she stopped me.

“It’s about lunchtime. Aren’t you hungry? Let’s grab something to eat.”

“…Have you seen the weather outside?”

“What about it? It’s sunny and gorgeous.”

“…I’m hungry, but not enough to endure that heat.”

“My stomach’s about to start growling, though,” she said, frowning.

“Then go by yourself.”

“……….”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she just stared at me, her eyes unwavering and strangely cold. 

That silent gaze bore into me until I finally caved with a sigh.

“…Fine. Let’s go.”

“Now that’s more like it,” she said, her mood brightening instantly. She breezed past me, heading for the sun-soaked library doors. Reluctantly, like a dog on a leash, I followed.

***

We walked through the sweltering streets of early summer until we found a small pizza shop nearby.

She had insisted on pizza, saying she was craving something cheesy. Not particularly opposed to the idea, I agreed.

The cool blast of the air conditioner inside was a welcome relief, cutting through the stifling heat like a blessing.

“Ahh, now I can breathe,” she said, fanning the back of her neck with one hand while holding her hair in the other. “Isn’t it way too hot today?”

“I told you we shouldn’t go out,” I grumbled.

“What was I supposed to do? I was starving!”

We ordered two pizzas. I’d suggested one would be enough, but she ignored me and ordered a second.

She picked both types, passionately vouching for how good they were. I didn’t argue. I wasn’t picky and usually ordered the cheapest thing on the menu anyway.

The upstairs seating area was empty, likely because few people wanted to venture out in this heat. This left us with a nice window-side table overlooking the neighborhood.

“The smell of pizza is making me even hungrier,” she said, slumping onto the table dramatically.

The rich aroma of baked cheese and dough filled the air. I had doubted this trip would be worth it, but sitting here in the cool air, I had to admit—it wasn’t so bad.

A popular acoustic guitar tune from a few months ago played softly in the background, its nostalgic melody filling the room.

“Hey, didn’t you play guitar in the school band?” she asked suddenly, sitting up straight.

“…Who told you that?”

“A friend of yours from middle school. She said she was the vocalist. Do you remember her?”

Ah, her. I sighed softly and nodded.

“She’s in my class. We were talking, and your name came up. She said you suddenly quit after the school festival. Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” she asked, frowning slightly. “She seemed really disappointed.”

I traced a small scratch on the plastic table with my fingernail as I replied,

“I stopped playing guitar. I didn’t feel like explaining to everyone, so I just told the club leader and left.”

It seemed the reason for my departure had been kept under wraps. That wasn’t surprising, given the club leader’s discretion.

Hearing my response, she looked unexpectedly subdued.

“…I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was hoping you could teach me,” she said casually.

“…Teach you guitar?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to learn. Everyone should know how to play at least one instrument in their life, don’t you think?”

“Most people don’t, actually.”

“I wasn’t trying to start a debate.”

Before the conversation could go any further, the black buzzer on our table vibrated. She jumped up, saying, “I’ll grab it,” and hurried toward the stairs.

Feeling a pang of guilt about letting her go alone, I sighed and followed her downstairs.