I've become a senior.

Those taking general entrance exams have started studying, while those aiming for recommendations are busy with interview practice. Talk of future paths fills the air, and the classroom atmosphere is somewhat restless. I could feel time beginning to move toward graduation, bit by bit. In the midst of such ordinary daily life, there was one thing—a lingering sense of unease that I couldn't shake off.

—Someone is watching me.

There's no basis for it. I just started feeling a gaze on me at some point. Even now. In front of me, my friends are talking happily, and the classroom is bustling with laughter and chatter. Being in the middle of that, it's not unusual to lock eyes with someone.

And yet.

I felt that this gaze was different from the general eyes of the classroom. As if one specific person was looking only at me, all the time—that kind of sensation.

...It's just my imagination.

I told myself that and gave a small shake of my head. I forced a smile and returned my attention to my friends' conversation as if nothing had happened.