For the rest of the day afterward, I was in a fragile state of denial. To keep myself busy that day, I was planning all these adventurous ideas for the both of us. Since Hiro originally told me that he discovered the answer to what the Universal Definition of Love was, I was planning all these ideas after the big reveal, planning for a galaxy after post-enlightenment, similar to the ending after the Super Ranger Ravagers. 

Only I was planning on going on forever, or as long as our human bodies allowed us.

But the morning after, I felt this twisting feeling in my stomach. 

I didn’t cry often back then, so when I felt a stream of tears come down my cheek, it really made an impression on me. 

I still felt a feeling of calm keeping the more painful undertones of my sadness at bay. I brought the White Ravager mask, his mask, with me to school. He’d certainly be looking for it, even if he said he was moving away. It was too important for him to leave behind.

I waited at the small courtyard connected to the cafeteria in our usual spot after school. It was an uncomfortable black table made with metal grids. It was the type of hostile architecture that only allowed you to enjoy the experience in the span of a thirty minute lunch. It wasn’t a grandiose meeting spot, but the incidental splash of white paint on the top of the table in the vague shape of a mask lent itself an impression of deep importance.

I optimistically waited for an hour, tapping my feet all the while. And then I waited another thirty minutes, nervously fidgeting with the mask in my hand. And once more, waiting for a period of time that’d make my parents worry, I felt the uncomfortable truth settle in to my anxious nerves.

Hiro Shirokami, my greatest romantic ally, and my best friend, was gone.

I felt an uncontrollable shaking overtake my body, a fresh trail of tears pouring out once more. In my melancholic state, the only thing I could do to cope with the situation was take out a Ravager mask of my own. I secured the black strap behind the violet mask over my head.

The Violet Ravager wasn’t a girl that cried often, so at the very least, I didn’t want to make my tears public. But the hollowness of the mask created an echo that carried the sounds of my sobbing. If another fan saw me, they’d think I was so lame.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

I felt a shock when another person called out to me. I tried to cut my sniffling short, but my body took a while to catch up to my desired intention. I looked through the eyeholes of my mask to see a boy my age with light blue hair and square thick-rimmed glasses looking back at me. Judging by the scowl on his face, he didn’t look too friendly.

“Nothing, go away! This is our spot!”

“Our Spot? Wait—is there someone else here,” he asked, scanning the spot around him in genuine curiosity.

“It doesn’t matter. Even if he isn’t here, this is our spot!”

“Hmph, well that’s convenient. This was technically my spot, but if you’re going to be weird about it, then fine. It’s yours.” 

He turned his back on me, but for whatever reason, he decided to turn back around.

“Hey, are you crying,” he continued, stepping a little closer.

“No, I’m fine. The Violet Ravager doesn’t cry,” I said with a lingering sniffle.

I noticed a sudden process from him that was stranger than anything I had ever done. He took both hands and framed the area around me, moving the border creating by his index fingers and thumbs until he closed the created frame with a sudden clap, followed by two fingers pointed at the sky.

And he did this sequence of actions with a straight face.

“Wha—what are you doing?”

“You’re wearing a Ravager Mask while holding a mask of a different color. You were likely wearing the mask to keep people from seeing you cry. You also seem to have an almost unhealthy level of possessiveness towards this spot.”

“Umm, yeah,” I said, blinking my eyes in confusion.

“I take it then that someone was supposed to meet you here, but for whatever reason they didn’t show up today,” the strange boy said, crossing his arms.

Another comical stream of tears forcibly gushes out of my eyes. 

“Oh no—that wasn’t intended to make you cry. Usually when I figure someone’s problem out, they’re either impressed, or weirdly touched,” the boy said, extending his hand to me.

I finally removed my violet mask, my bottom eyelids now both an irritated shade of red.

“Thank you, I guess,” I said, accepting his hand and propping myself up.

“My name’s Shun. Shun Kanzaki. I probably should’ve led with that,” the boy said.

“Umm—my name’s Fumiko Kotonoha. Do you like Super Ranger Ravagers?”

“Sure. I thought I’d grown out of it, but some parts of it still interest me. Do you like mysteries,” Shun asked.

“Yeah! I thought I wouldn’t, but there’s a writer that was part of the original Ravagers’ scriptwriters who wrote a series of mysteries. I liked it just as much…”

This was the beginning of my unique friendship with Shun Kanzaki. Within a blink of an eye, Kyoko would join us too. But there’d be something else waiting for the three of us on the horizon. Soon, we’d approach the day when I’d implement the infamous One-Date rule.