It was an unusually hot day in early summer. ─

On the way home after school, I stepped into a small secondhand bookstore I didn't usually visit, just to escape the heat.

I didn't go in to buy anything. I just wanted to cool off for a bit.

Next to the counter sat a box filled with stationery like notebooks and postcards. I hadn't planned on buying anything, but one particularly clean notebook caught my eye.

It was a simple design—a white cover with a small silver ornament.

I picked up the notebook and brought it to the counter.

The woman sitting there, who looked somewhat young, smiled when she saw the notebook.

"Did you like that one?"

"Yes. It's new, right?"

"Yeah, probably. You can take anything in that box."

Her answer was a bit strange, but I paid and left the bookstore without thinking much of it.

It wasn't until I got home that I properly opened the notebook.

And the moment I turned the first page, my hand stopped.

The inside of the notebook was already filled with someone's scribbled handwriting.

It was a diary.

At first, I thought I had taken the wrong thing.

But as I read a few pages, a familiar name caught my eye.

The name of a boy in my class.

He wasn't someone I was particularly close to. We were in the same class, but I could count the number of times we'd actually spoken on one hand.

Only then did I remember what the woman had said earlier.

'You can take anything in that box.'

She must have thought this notebook was just another item for sale.

I felt a bit guilty, but since I had already bought it, I turned a few more pages out of curiosity.

Stories about school, stories about friends, records of ordinary days.

Then, at some point, one person began to appear constantly.

「She was sitting by the window again today.」

「Maybe because it's hot, she had her hair tied a bit higher than usual.」

「A small dimple appears on her left cheek when she laughs.」

I reflexively touched my own face.

Then I turned to the next page.

「She looked a bit prettier than usual today.」

...Wait.

I stared down at the notebook.

Strangely, the description of the girl he had written about...

Matched me perfectly.