Chunk 1: Fulldome

Circles passing through two specified points exist infinitely. When a third point is given, however, one circle quickly materializes. The overall picture may only be grasped from a third-person perspective. Human relations are especially cumbersome. People tend to have preconceptions that usually lead to misunderstandings. If you are one of those involved, you must take a wider view of what you saw and felt at that time and try to avoid mistakes or misunderstandings.

　I wonder when I developed this state of mind. While indulging in such thought, I was giving a geometry class for avatars of students in a virtual classroom displayed on a glass-shaped tool called the Glade. I look at the upper left of the Glade. The time says 7:30 pm. In a window that mimics a whiteboard, a PDF file is opened, with the question “Define the midpoint O of the circle” and its solution alongside.

“Don't you think humans are capable of manipulating spacetime?”

　Out of the blue, a student throws a question at me after the class. This leads me to pondering. When I was about his age, I was majoring in science and would often have similar thoughts. —From time machines and time-leaps to warp holes and spatial transitions. After a brief moment of nostalgia, harsh words suddenly blurt out of my mouth in a rushed attempt to respond quickly to him.

“It’s impossible.”

　The expression startled me. It sounded like a brutal statement, as if it had stabbed my younger self back in time or revealed an unattainable dream or harsh reality. How was the accuracy of AI response? Did my avatar notice the change in my voiceprint and mirror my facial expression? Trying to avoid getting noticed, I play normal and start closing the data I had opened. The student, not aware of my effort in trying to shield myself, still speaks to me to the side of my face.

“Well, for example, a lost item is usually found after a certain period of time.  It can only be explained if someone had used some kind of device to borrow the item from me at that moment.”

　Though a bit abstract, I do admire his interesting interpretation.

“It's not enough to make a note of where you’ve placed them. But it might have been easier to understand if you left something objective.”

　Did he feel such a sense in the class just now? I would prefer such a philosophical question not being asked to a mere teacher like me. “Don't forget where you've put things.” I merely mouth the comment and prompt him to log out. There is no other student in this digital classroom.

“Then, it’s gotta be my mother. I wonder how she does it. She must be manipulating space-time.”

　He keeps mumbling as he leaves the room. Even a dispute over whether one said this or that may not end up being overblown if it were to be documented in an objective way.

“But it's not something you want when trusting others or the other way around....”

　This is especially true if those involved are close friends. Thinking is not something that can stop, even when it’s known that a conversation can become boundless when it leaps forward. I then also turn off the teacher’s lectern in this virtual space. The real world appears through Glade, a familiar, bleak room and a coffee cup on a table. The drops falling from the edge of the cup were creating many dark brown rings on the white surface.
            

Chunk 2: Even Rainbows Turn Dark Once Mixed

　By the year of 2032, synchronization between augmented reality and virtual reality has become the norm, making apps with both functions, generally referred to as VR, released domestically. I guess people are unable to wait for others to take the glory. The Digital Agency, despite initially having a grudge against the idea, had to work with MEXT* to diversify education. If it were in my time, I almost surely would have taken advantage of such refuge.

　Several notifications through glass lens were sufficient for me to move the focus. When the right frame is tapped twice, notifications get sorted from most to least recent. Platform policy changes, e-mail newsletters, fashion trend guides on dual-purpose apparel for digital and real world ... only a few catch my eye. A message from Rika was among them. I lift the finger up in the air to perform a tap.

June 6
　6:52 pm “I can’t wait for Uzume-chan's stream.”
　7:07 pm “Which designs do you like?”

　She seems to be worried about the avatar dress. I did tell her I had to work until 7:30 pm, but this series of messages show her charms. Prompted by the conversation with that student, I reach my hand to a drawer on the desk that I don’t normally open. I slowly pulled the handle and despite the fears that it might have gone, the old smartphone was still there with a cracked screen. It must’ve been the latest model at that time as far as I can remember. It sparks a certain nostalgia. I thought to charge the phone and see what’s on it. Feeling like I can remember something, without thinking my left hand was touching the pendant.

　Glade shows the time, 7:36 pm. Twenty minutes or so until the livestream. She should’ve already been in. Much thanks goes to IT for removing the necessity of returning home, getting through traffic or even makeup. I was preoccupied when I opened a news e-mail. The author praised the temporary success of the space garbage collection operation.

　It was when I was in junior high school that companies first started utilizing and showing off a rainbow-colored symbol. In the wake of the global Sustainable Development Goals, famous artists who used to claim outdoor venues a home started refraining from using electric decorations and pyrotechnics. They ultimately went all-in on virtual space as they can produce a showy presentation that could not be imitated in reality. Its high quality of creativeness and resemblance to reality shows how far the technology has developed. It would be interesting to see an actual venue, but I have only experienced shows on video streaming sites. It's been a long time since virtual concerts took over. I could change my point of view and my life, and it won’t affect a single thing in this world. The world goes on its own.

　Concert venues in virtual space can accommodate an indefinite number of viewers and never requires seat allocation. This means every user experiences the same great views. Same price for everyone, thus equal for all. No limit on seats and much cheaper tickets than was the case in previous generations means that tickets for popular artists can sell like hot cakes. Every time I contemplate this, I believe that democracy and populism are in full swing.

　It became a world in which correct knowledge can be easily obtained thanks to the nature of sharing know-how. Investigative ability to assess the authenticity of such information became an indispensable new skill for individuals in this open world. Genuine information providers tend to become influencers and communities were created centered on them. Mankind has been seeking broader and far-away lands with a desire for territory and markets since the Industrial Revolution. Now, it seems they have found the possibility of a new homeland in either this infinite virtual world or space colonization.

　Uzume has been steadily gaining popularity in the past six months. Her costume varies depending on the tone of music. I think her digital character form design enables highlighting of the white and fearless center of the iris. I type in an entry code and the concert hall is revealed on the Glade. Referred to the Participant List and found Rika’s icon.

“Here you are.”

　The connection between us seems to work fine without lag or feedback in sound or any malfunction in the equipment. As I’ve thought, she is showing off her new avatar dress. The retro-finished brownish one-piece and wine-red capeline look innocent and should work for men.

“I sense a Taisho Romance.”

　I express my impression. Well, I’m sure her flaunting the new outfit is just a simulation as that is for her boyfriend or for a post-event tonight. Either way, she responded cheerily.

“You always look the same. At least you could change the color of your avatar. There are several presets. Do you know how to do it in the settings?”
“You always say that. I can search how-to on the internet and I'm okay with the default settings for a personal account. I'm using a different account for my work anyway. ”

　The default avatar was automatically generated by a selfie. We wear everyday dresses and engage in everyday conversation without intention and thinking. As usual, I turn on auto-spectator mode. This system, almost mimicking an NPC in a role-playing game, randomly lets you link with other visitors, meeting the demands from both those who want to enjoy it by themselves and those who want to have fun with others. It also lets you follow each other, and this plays a certain role in building new connections.
            

Chunk 3: Trigger

　Time flies when you’re having fun, and two hours have passed since the livestream had started. The final presentation is my favorite event. The shiny stars are scattered around Uzume and throughout the venue. The randomness in the sparkles creates a different look every moment. We also have several friends that are Uzume fans online. Rika seems to be talking about something with them. She turns to me and asks my plan.

“Hang in ‘real’ or ‘virtual’?”

　I knew, of course, this was coming. It seems like she is getting together with them at Uzume’s official virtual hangout space as soon as she finishes prepping dinner. I’m guessing she is planning to have that meal while mingling in the virtual room.

“Sorry, I have to prepare for tomorrow's class....”

　I swiftly turned down the offer and logged out. I use my left hand to check the smartphone while touching the pendant marked “Geminids1214” on the back. It shows 62% on the screen with cracks forking along multiple paths. It seemed that the battery was charging properly. I tried to remember my PIN code fast, but face authentication activated quicker. While sentimentally recalling the phone’s system back then, I use my right index finger to tap the old social media app. Electricity discharges and a spark splashes from the cracks in the display.

“Ouch.”

　It came out despite a short contact with the heat. I'm astonished at myself for the fact that I didn't put a protective shield and that my recklessness has not changed a bit. I move my sight on the screen. The app makes awkward noises but manages to start up. The SIM card was missing on this device. Despite some anxiety that it might have reset what’s stored, contrary to my assumption, I was able to activate the abandoned account.

I see Rika at the top.　　　
“I couldn't get an answer after all.” July 24.
My mother is on the second line.
“Can you go to the grocery store?” July 21.

My finger stops scrolling.

Kent’s message is on the eighth line. March 14.

　As I had thought, it is him. It’s got to be around 2022. The nostalgia brings a smile to my face. The little noises continue, but I carry on going through the rest of the exchange. It’s showing a call icon and digits 2:13. Below is the last received message from him.

“You take care.”

　This was his last word.

“Don't go.”

　For all this time, the send button had not been pressed, and my words remained suspended on the keypad. My private timeline is filled with everyday thoughts. There is a blank post, and it seems I can type in it. The phone call on that day. What did I talk about?

—But, it might have been easier to understand if you left something objective.

　The student's comment crosses my mind. I had to write something down even if it’s half-remembered before the fragmented memories have further broken down. I concentrate on typing whatever I can recall even that which is not even certain.

　“I supported his dream. I didn't want him to go, but I didn’t stop him because I knew it was just me being selfish. I got the pendant back. After that, I sent a message to Rika. ”

　I was so occupied that I did not notice the notification that appeared on the Glade a few minutes before.

“It was fun today. Thanks for the ticket too. ”

　It was a message from Rika.
            

Chunk 4: Phenomena and Facts

　A new week has arrived, and the date is June 11. A rare day off for me. I was with Rika in a cafe in real life. It must have been almost six months since the last time. I add gomme syrup to coffee and circle a straw to blend it in. I’ve already gotten used to the bad texture of paper straws.

“So, after everything, I still wonder which one is more eco-friendly; plastic or paper.”

　The complexity of taking into account from production to reuse leaves this question unanswered. If there are two phenomena that produce the same effect, it may be because the law of conservation is in play so that both sides of the equation are comparable. With the 2025 goal of resolving space debris or restrictions on the international use of fossil fuels, tourism also has undergone reshaping. Nowadays, having Glade will let you choose different paid contents; from a trip to a typical destination to swimming under the sea or going back in time. Buildings, ruins, and world heritages that perished in the past can be relived in front of our eyes with the power of digital technology.

　Seemingly having zero interest in my questions, she keeps talking about a virtual trip she’s going on with her boyfriend this weekend. She must have got her identical appearance to her avatar from one of those apparel brands that sell dual-purpose clothes for both the virtual and real worlds.

“I heard it's wrong to say ‘to charge’.”

　Rika changes the subject in the usual manner. It began to be commonly used when we were studying hard in school. People have gotten used to the word and don’t feel it’s inappropriate. In this excessively ad-filled virtual space, you pay—or charge—to go on an ad-free trip. Travel agencies' business styles have already shifted to adapt new programs for virtual travel. What a time to be alive to not need a single vehicle for going on an around-the-world tour.

“Don't you know somewhere nice to visit?”

　When I recommended checking out trial versions, she quickly shot down my idea saying it would be better going in blind since we’re going for a full-length tour anyway. I asked her where they had been before, and they surely have covered most of the major destinations. She then whispers,

“……… and ‘PlaneTravel’.”

　A so-called expedition version of planetarium. I was actually thankful for her restrained and careful delivery, and I felt that I should not waste her effort. I ask a question as if I had just recalled it.

“Do you remember when I contacted you that day?”

　She looked puzzled at first, but she comes to the realization as she pieces together the hints of ‘space’, ‘contact’, and the obvious context from where our conversation was going. She may have thought that I don’t worry about it anymore. She answers back with the usual tone.

“Yeah. I remember you called me saying ‘I’ve decided how I’m gonna move on with my life moving forward’. ”

　Wait, have I told her that on the phone? I then slowly grabbed the smartphone out of the bag to look through the exchange with her. I hadn’t thought enough, realizing I didn’t check anything other than exchange with Kent and the timeline. “OMG! How long ago was this?” She exclaims. I proceed to check the messages on this topic. It’s a message thread with Rika. Shows March 14 and a call icon with 1:02:41 below. That’s a long one. “I told you, right?” She asserts. I open the timeline.

　I supported his dream. I didn't want him to go, but I didn’t stop him because I knew it was just me being selfish. I got the pendant back. ”

　There is no mistake. This is the text that I typed last week. The last sentence is somehow erased. It’s gone as if it was never there in the first place. “Are you alright?” She worries. I respond with ‘Okay’ whilst my head is struggling to catch up. Hoping something rings a bell. We were in the second year of junior high around this time. We were pals to the point where we saw each other every single day. I could be at ease with her, and she understood me the most. Except for that day when I made her cry.

　March 14, 2022. Kent called me up. He was a senior university student. I remember him telling me that this might be our last meeting. He was going to start working for Austras Inc. the next day and he was preparing for the important day. Hearing the news of the break up on this day in this country has got to be the most terrible thing that could have happened.

“And Kent tossed me the pendant back. It was a birthday present for him I had given the year before. Then I contacted you, right? ”

　She doesn't seem to have any points.

“He certainly handed over that pendant, but I’m pretty sure it was a return-gift for Valentine's Day.”

　It seems that for the entire time I was telling her about the break-up and my behavior moving forward rather than about what happened to the pendant. She couldn't continue listening from her guilt and confessed that she had known of his departure all along. I asked why she hadn’t felt the need to speak to me if she had known. Hence the long phone call.

“Cause the pendant says it all, doesn’t it?”

　I remember her exact words. She was weeping but managed to voice that. She didn't know what she could do in that moment. I was informed that he joined Austras Inc. as an engineer. He was valued because he had completed his studies in the Department of Space Engineering and already possessed work experience. He and the company seem to have known each other from before.

“Is Austras the company which bid in the space immigration project?”

　I answered back. “Of course.” She hesitatingly confirms while looking away from me. The enterprise has been known for the release of one of the leading social media platforms in this country. Its derived version still operates a virtual space referred to as ‘Suni’. Kent actually helped me head over to the company last year. After the phone call, I vaguely remember flinging my smartphone against a wall.

　A brief glance at the pendant confirms that it’s something I received rather than bought for myself because that’s kind of out of character for me. The fact that I’m still wearing this proves my ongoing attachment to the memory. Memory of the past in my mind is cast onto the trembling surface of the drink in my cup. I have to give her credit for this, but as soon as she felt that my mood would get worse, she stopped speaking in straightforward words and directed the topic toward her trip. She eventually decided on an (virtual) European trip.
            

Chunk 5: Unknown Yet

　We part ways and I head home. On the other side of the riverbed sits a particularly tall building. The billboard features a new ad on virtual trips. Automatically it brings back what happened next. I wonder what happened after that. As he claimed, I haven’t been able to see Kent at all since then. I was even too afraid to get in touch with him. And on July 7, 2022, I watched the televised shuttle launch with him onboard. I lost my grip and could not hold my smartphone any longer. Wasn’t it this day when your wish would come true once a year?

　After I got back to my house, I suddenly started to linger over Rika’s last words.

“But, I think it was in March when we spoke about it.”

　It is certainly difficult to think that, considering my character, I contacted her right after the event. Then when did we talk about it? I take out the smartphone as quickly as I can. When I tap the app, it sparks with a crackling sound again. Flinched for a moment but felt no heat, unsurprisingly. I scroll through and stop at a blank post dated February 14, 2022. What am I gonna put in?

　On the New Year’s Day of 2022, I invited my immediate neighbor for the first shrine visit of the year. He and I had gotten along well from childhood. I walked up to the entrance.

“Happy New Year!”

　I greeted his mom as she opened the door for me. She then told me to wait and went back inside.

“Happy new year to you too!”

　Rika invited me to go inside as she went down the stairs. “My brother isn’t here though,” she smirks. It seemed that he was already swamped around this time of his life. I remember thinking that being a college student sounded busy between studying and socializing. I greet their father and follow her upstairs. She asks an ill-intended question.

“You blew the opportunity you had last year. Your next chance is gonna be Valentine's Day.”

　I ignore her words and urge her to move outside. The wind was cold enough to remind me to grab one more outer garment.

　Looking back, I must have been pushing myself because I was so disappointed. Maybe I already had an admiration for Kent by then.

“Hey, it’s warm today so take me to that observatory.”

　On February 14, I asked Kent out, who against his habit was at home. He brought his car and we arrived at the parking lot at the observatory. As I was opening the door, my bag fell off and made an unsettling noise that gave a bad feeling.

“It's fine, I think....”

　I dismiss his concern and start our stroll. Along the twisty mountain path that continues to the observation deck is a rest area furnished with wooden benches and picnic tables. I suggest we stop for a breath. We put our luggage on the table and sit down. It’s going to be my last year coming April. Kent asked whether I had decided my career path.

“Nothing yet.”

　It’s not like I have something to pursue or want to make money. If no opportunities arise, I’ll be fine not dating anyone. The curriculum is too short to find what you want to do in life. A historical figure once said “It's just that I stay with problems longer,” in his humbleness about his intelligence. What should one do when you can’t find a life goal?  I had been mulling over an idea that finding one was actually an act of genius.

“I’m leaning toward sciences at least,” I reply.

　On that cue, we stood up and continued on the path to the observatory again. As the sun goes down, the crowd is starting to show up. I wait for the perfect moment and hand over a slender box wrapped in red. I was worried that the earlier impact had collapsed the box, but thankfully my worry was unnecessary.

“You can buy me a pendant in return.”

　Though he looked a little troubled when I requested my favorite brand, he seemed more pleased with the gift than I had anticipated. On our way back home, I was thanked for helping Rika. He then gave me Daiki’s contact information, saying he could lend a hand if I have any trouble in the future.

　As I go through those memories, I wrote down what almost seems like a wish combined with some fantasy. No one is going to see this anyway. Truth or not, the fact that he is gone won’t change.

　“I was nervous, but I was able to hand him the chocolate. I was really glad that I could let him know my feelings. Kent's answer made me happy. I thanked Rika for her care throughout. ”
            

Chunk 6: Ripples Fade Away

　I invited her so we could go through the answers from our memories. I let her in my room. She sips coffee and looks at my eyes with a question.

　“So, what do you want to ask?”

　Our long relationship makes it easy for her to guess correctly. I was told that she thought it must have been something so important for me to call her up twice in the last three weeks. It’s especially unusual for someone who casually avoids seeing her friends for half a year or so.

“Well, I was also surprised that day. Never thought you had courage. My brother would never crave sweets like that. ”

　Hold on a second. I feel like there is a gap between our memories. I had already been familiar with my next-door neighbor’s distaste in sweets for a long time. I would never give him chocolate. The reason why I typed this fake fantasy is because I wanted to give him chocolate for Valentine's Day. I just wanted a typical experience.

“Then you told him your feelings, didn’t you? Though he didn’t answer back, it seems.”

　No. That’s not what I remember. The reality Rika depicts, however, was altering my mind or rather the texts full of regrets. For whatever the reason, the world is moving in that way. My confession of love should have been about my career path. It is getting modified the way I feel convenient.

“I reminded him a couple of times to be in the house FOR YOU!”

　I thought she was also at home and suggested we go somewhere, but I guess I was wrong. She was out that day. Various experiments have already proven that people have obscure memories. And I guess I do too.

　Rika leaves. I, on the other hand, was feeling somewhat uneasy for not quite grasping the picture of what is happening. Is this just a misunderstanding for someone who doesn’t usually care about specifics? So, to put it in a nutshell, I handed the chocolate and professed my love in February, received a return-present in March, only to experience a permanent farewell in July. If that’s ‘another’ truth, I guess I should let that be. My instinct tells my hand to open the app.

　“I was nervous, but I was able to hand him the chocolate. I was really glad that I could let him know my feelings. I thanked Rika for her care throughout. ”

　This time, the sentence, “Kent's answer made me happy,” had disappeared. Does this mean that my wish won’t come true? No way. When put under the same conditions, phenomena should always give us the same results whether it be fair or pitiful. Cars, drugs, and cooking, for example, won’t be trusted without consistent chemistry. With this concept, I might be able to tell a clear difference between the text that disappears and that does not.

–What you know based on disappeared texts
　Kent did not give an answer.
　Contacted Rika via phone call not text message.
The text that has not disappeared is further divided into two, one that was altered and one not.
–What has been altered
　On February 14, the talk about my career path was changed to my confession of love. What was inside the box turned into chocolate.
　On March 14, the pendant was returned. It wasn’t the pendant I gave him, but a gift from him.

　Then when did I give him that pendant?

　The launch of the Austras’s social media/metaverse app caused ripple effects in this materialistic society. In my education field, it helped students who suffered from school refusal to pursue studying, and it even worked as a natural selection of teachers. Students receive equal chance while not being hindered by physical distance. Teachers fluctuate in popularity based on various factors such as the percentage of students’ advancement to higher education and how much teachers are supportive and attentive. Though the more popular the classes are, of course, the harder to tend to individual students. The privatization of compulsory education culled roaming bad environments in the industry by the invisible hand of god in the economy. Averaging of the perception of things, originated from thoughts and abilities, is done in a fine balance.

“Wish I had it in my time.”

　I quietly vent. Then I reluctantly move my attention to creating finals for next week. It’s become my daily routine to stare at this smartphone. I started to feel numb in the girlish act of constantly checking the app. No matter how far I go, I can only produce generic achievements. It’s been that way for a long time.

A spark pops.
            

Chunk 7: My Soul or Geminids Meteor Shower

　In my elementary school years, I think I was a fairly ordinary student who had nothing special to write about. In junior high, everyone was enjoying their adolescence in a microcosm of the outside society, but only to the extent that they were aware they would basically end their school life if they go against the rules. They carried themselves with an over-weaning pride by computing the complex relations between profit and loss or rank in peer relationships. This, I think, is such a grown-up yet childish behavior as if they own the whole world. I, on the other hand, whether it didn’t generate much interest in me or because of my lacking keenness in perception, had no idea about such unspoken agreements.

“Morning.”

　I may be dull in perception, but I’ll know when Rika changes her mood. That’s what a long time friendship will do for you. I tried to pry into what was upsetting her, but she insisted it was nothing. I stopped it there to avoid escalating into an argument. One day in October, I stopped going to school.

“Well, I don't know.”

　I had taken piano lessons since childhood, and as you should, I joined the school band. After school on that day, I was looking for my score. I searched my bag and the classroom, but I could not find it anywhere. The band members didn’t seem to care much either when I asked around. I have lost scores several times in the past, but this was clearly harassment. I didn’t even bother, I recall. Nowadays you can download a score for freaking free. Have you even had a thought that you might have just been careless in the first place?

“Thanks. Then it’s okay. ”

But unfortunately, I saw my score in the trash can on that day. I seemingly understood everything and started to walk home. You know what? I can make music on a computer and play as much as I want in private music lessons if I need to. I saw Rika on the volleyball court. We made eye contact, but I moved my sight away.

“You don't come to school because of me, right?”

　Her voice creates feedback in my dreary room.
On TV was some kind of a prank show. The prankster walks out on the street and starts to taunt a random person who is just about to be the object of the prank. The person’s face is hidden for privacy.

“It has nothing to do with you. I just don't want to go. ”

　I continue on writing my music on the PC.

The soon-be-pranked person seemed confused at the start of the stint. And then here comes a “bad guy” actor who now starts a confrontation with the first prankster. Not knowing this is all part of the prank, the pranked person immediately switches sides to protect the first ‘jerk’. This tells us that you cannot judge someone before seeing the whole picture. “Can a random person help someone in trouble?” says the TV closed caption. What incredible hypocrisy.

“You shouldn’t have saved me. You wouldn’t get this treatment.”

　A few weeks ago, Rika was getting harassed when I was walking by the volleyball court. I stepped in to stop. And in return I became their target. For them it must be just like entertainment rather than exchanging different opinions. Such miniscule stuff to even remember. Those who happened to be born in the same year and in the same city spend time in a group in the same camp. Sure, I guess it happens. I just did not care.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

　She leaves her words and exits the room. I don't grasp the merit of going to school. I can do anything I want from home. I do not intend to deny the opinions of those who claim merit exists. I mean, I would have gone if there wasn’t such a hassle anyway. It’s part of the reason why I’m currently standing right here because I wanted to accept such kids.

　December 2021, on my way from music lesson. Kent saw me and told me to stop. A line of cracks runs through the screen on my latest-model smartphone as I dropped it due to his sudden exclamation. Once I was ready after going back home, he took me to the hilltop observatory. It seemed that he knew what was going on probably from my mom or Rika. He decided not to touch on the subject directly.

“It's better to let it out. People will just get away with what they’ve done. ”

　Witch-hunting is a hot topic in our current society, mostly due to radical reaction to the preceding social nature of concealing unpleasant actions. He continues on like that in order to bring everything to light, saying that running away should be deemed an indication of guiltier than even a confession. I was too naive to understand the concept. Irritated by my reluctance to speak out, he goes ahead and initiates the talk.

“I know you thought you would make troubles around her if you guys get back together again.”

　I expect nothing less from Rika and Kent who really understand me. He points to the orange sky.

“We should be seeing loads of stars now.”

　4pm, December 14, 2021. You can’t see what’s really there. Is it my soul or the Geminids meteor shower?
            

Chunk 8: Cracked Pipe Dreams

　That’s right. Now I remember. It was on our way home on this day when I gave the pendant. I grabbed it as soon as I went back home. My gift to him. He was busy and I wasn’t sure when I would see him next time. So the gift was for both his birthday and Christmas.

　A smartphone that stores facts. You can only rewrite memories and dialogues. In other words, you can rewrite only an ‘abstract phenomenon’ recorded in this world. A ‘concrete phenomenon’ that has already been recorded in articles or posts can’t be rewritten. If that’s the case, I will write everything down. I don’t want to forget them again.

December 14, 2021
"I will never forget the last word he said. I made up my mind. That I’m going to study space engineering. ”

　By July 7, I was already going to the school. In my ‘authentic’ history, I would decide to study space engineering as a result of Rika’s confession on March 14. My CV does state my space engineering academic background, so that shouldn’t contradict the fact. Nor will it end up disappearing. However, it also means the cruelness of what happened afterwards is unchanged. February 2025. Right before college entrance exams start. Restrictions on the use of petroleum fuels were announced. Later in October, global guidelines were set to regulate space pollution. These led to, even temporarily, the de facto world-wide retraction from the space industry.

　Presented with such a devastating reality, I realized my wish was not attainable at that point. I went on to get a math teacher's license so that I could help out people who were in a similar situation as mine. Last November, I was looking for a way to express myself in public. Impressed by his strength in programing, I decided to reach out to Daiki of Austras.

"I’ve been waiting for you. ”

　Daiki's office was very serene. This could have been done online, but he bothered to invite me. He wasn’t the Daiki I thought he was. He then starts to talk about Kent. According to him, Kent was helping development of Suni up to its beta version. Daiki saw his capability and brought him under his direct control as an engineer in the space development department.

"Would you mind logging in?"

　I accept and proceed to log in and type the entry code he shows me. A meeting room in Austras is projected. He and I meet again now in avatar. In the virtual world, he hands over data.

"Daiki and Kent have instructed me to hand this to you as soon as you reach us. You should have a decompression code on your pendant. ”

　No doubt. There should be no inscription if this was what was sent back. This was his gift to me. This alphanumeric code, which I thought was a serial number of sorts, had been part of everyday life as days goes by. The mystery had completely left my concern.

　After returning home, I typed in ‘Geminids1214’ to process decompression of the ZIP file. What was enclosed were a storage file, an address available on Suni and an avatar highlighted with the white and fearless center of her iris. It prompted me to work something out from these. Next thing I knew, I had pulled out the old scores and even made my debut as a virtual artist by the end of last December. The artist’s name was Uzume.

　Ten years since humanity succeeded in space colonization project. Eight months since my debut. My new song will be out tomorrow, July 7. I made sure to give Rika a ticket code as usual. On the TV, there was re-broadcasting of an old program.

"For me? Again? Thank you!"

　She was so pumped and told me that she would find a dress that would match my avatar. Then I explained to her that I would be in a different account that day. While she’s still figuring it out, I confess to the true form of Uzume. It amazes her. She did not follow up with questions, probably because I had clarified the motive behind as well.

　In order to avoid typos in replies, I keep my eyesight going back and forth between messages and the TV. The TV show was almost at the end. I probably saw only a partial of what was broadcasted.

　There is a dark brown ark on my white table. I delete what was there and type up new texts. And then I finally push the Send button.

　The new ballad song was closing with an outro. I’m usually a ‘silent viewer’, but it prompted me to join the chat today. Some viewers were ecstatic about my showing up in the comment section while others were questioning its legitimacy. All in all, it seemed they were having a great time. I was anxious throughout my first live streaming event. I catch my breath when I saw a comment from an anonymous icon.

"I like a star that sparkles than shooting stars. ”

　The last words I heard on that observatory. I will not forget that. Before thinking, I was already tapping the icon.

　Then I waited at that lookout for the man in the icon. I don’t know how I should face him. I keep staring at a sign in the distance. Then I hear a voice from behind. It was certainly Kent’s.

"Well, you and I are of the same age now. ”

　The length of time that elapses is same for everyone. From the point of an observer, however, it looks as if each person has a different length. The observer, in our case, is this smartphone. Each of our time was based on the theory of relativity, making both of us the same 26 years old at this point. A single tear travels along my cheek. Whether from happiness or loneliness or other emotions, I didn’t have an answer. I may have been apathetic. I see a pendant oscillating on his chest. The one I gave to him.

"I couldn't let this smartphone go, even if it's just a part of my memoir. ”

　He then reaches to his back pocket and shows me the very smartphone from those times. He says that every time he looked at our exchange of messages, he was reminded that he must go home.
His shuttle was on course smoothly with no abnormality in the instrument. There was one day when they were hit by a sudden big shaking. The cause is still a mystery even to this day. They say an invisible turbulence could be the factor.
He adds that it was a powerful disturbance and he made sure to protect the smartphone in his hand. It was when he noticed a message which he had never seen.

"That was you who sent me the message that day, right? On my 23rd birthday," he says.

　It would have been when I was texting to Rika. From his point of view, it showed the message was sent when I was 16. Altair and Vega are 14.4 light-years apart and it takes more than 14 years to approach even at the speed of light.

"It only took 10 years for us to meet again. Maybe my wish exceeded the speed of light. ”

　We laugh it up.

　I still had not been able to let go of the smartphone with a broken screen. From now on, I will always write down the ‘missing parts’ with this phone. I will let the universe decide what’s objective information and fixate them as facts. Or rather set a third point on this phone and materialize facts. I’m going to fixate this everyday happiness. So I can feel happy as I should. Strangely, I have not seen a single blank post since our reunion.

　He, reminding me that he has no other intention, sits down on the other side of my table and starts to speak.

"It’s kind of incredible that you sent me the message in that timing. Knowing that you were a strong-willed girl, it never occurred to me that you might reverse your decision. ”

　Perhaps it was him who wanted to initiate fixing our relationship. That’s probably also what motivated him to complete the space colonization project. But if even information is based on the law of conservation, what did I consumed my energy to achieve this phenomenon in return. Just like a black hole is emitting heat or releasing energy into a white hole. Something has to be sacrificed. As if trying to eliminate my concern, I just quietly smile back.

"Promise that you will come back to me."

　I remember typing this statement while hanging out with Rika watching TV, though it was actually "Don’t go." What I must not change now is my will not to lose him. I would even be willing to withdraw my previous remarks and decisions. Because you are the most important person to me. I’m still holding the smartphone with a cracked screen and awkward noises. I tap the app to show him the original texts.

　A spark pops.
　It startles me. The phone slips out of my hand.