A week into the new term. In a corner of the library, where the after-school bustle fades away, You sits by the window, absently thinking about last night's dream. As the evening sun streams in, quiet footsteps suddenly approach from beyond the bookshelves, and a familiar—no, a voice that should be unfamiliar, yet is somehow nostalgic—reaches their ears.

Looking up, You finds the transfer student, Shiori Kotobashi, standing there. She holds an old poetry collection to her chest, her amber eyes gazing directly at You.