I was the last one out of the classroom, as usual. The hallway was a long, echoing tunnel of fading sunlight. As I turned the corner toward the shoe lockers, I stopped.

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

"This might sound weird," I said, "but a little wax on the metal part of the buckle makes it slide easier. Do you… want me to show you?"

"Komi-san?"

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go home."

She didn't nod. She didn't shake her head. She just slowly, hesitantly, extended her foot.

I looked at her. Really looked. Not at the legend, but at the girl. A girl with a knot in her throat and a storm in her heart.

She stared at me, frozen.

But then I saw it. A single, perfect tear escape her eye and trace a slow path down her cheek.

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.