hide my gloomy eyes and actions affected by years of loneliness, nor my lack of confidence. I regretted, all too late, not having just lived a decent life all along. In trying to think of a clever excuse to turn her down, weeks passed, and then a month. One day, I supposed that it was best to just let our relationship fade away like this. Telling her the truth would forever end the comfortable relationship we had, and it was painful to keep sending letters while fearing my lies would be seen through. As it happened, it was approaching exam cram season. So I resolved to give up on our relationship of five years, so quickly that it even surprised me. If she was going to hate me either way, it seemed better to terminate things myself. The month after the letter asking to meet in person came, another letter from Kiriko arrived. It was the first time I’d broken the tacit agreement that we would reply within five days of receiving a letter. She must have been worried by my lack of response. But I didn’t even open that letter. As expected, another one came a month after that, and I ignored it too. It pained me, certainly, but it was the only thing I could do. The week after I gave up on our correspondence, I made a friend. Maybe I’d grown too reliant upon Kiriko and it got in the way of forming normal relationships, I thought. Time passed, and I got out of my habit of checking the mail for her letters. And that was how my relationship with Kiriko ended. ---------- It was my friend’s death that led me to write to Kiriko again. In the summer of my fourth year, Haruhiko Shindo, who I’d spent most of my time at college with, committed suicide. I secluded myself in my apartment. I knew I was missing important credits