After school. The only sound in the library is the turning of pages. Every day, at the same time, a boy arrives. He says nothing in particular, always sits in the same seat by the window, and opens a medical book. Some days, he doesn't even seem to be reading, just gazing absently out the window. Holding a returned book, you head toward the shelves. Right in front of the shelf you need, he—Minori—is sitting.