Cutscene: Things We Do For

It is about five minutes into staring listlessly into the sheet of paper in his hands that Susumu Kamiya comes under the uncanny belief that he shouldn't be here.

Seated in a long, pristine hall just beyond the impersonal presence of a closed door, he doesn't exactly remember how long he has been here, or how long he has been holding the paper clenched so tightly between his calloused fingers. The creases where the otherwise pristine white paper has been folded have been darkened with frequent use. He presses the paper back into a neat, tidy rectangle, closes his eyes, and then reopens both, as if it could magically change the contents of the letter:

Dear Student,

Congratulations! You have been selected for...

He folds the letter again before he can finish reading. His eyes shut again, their weary vacancy closing off from the outside world. He should be here. So why does it feel like he's losing something important by sitting in this chair and staring at that sheet of paper? Maybe it's because...

this is where i want to be

Fingers clench a little tighter into the paper, ruining its perfect state with the faintest crumples. This is where he wants to be. Yes. It is. He can trust that.

He can trust that. So why does it feel like he's

you want

tearing

TO SEE

up

HER

inside?

...

Of course. That's what this feeling is. His heartbeat, accelerating. His nerves, electric. It's anticipation. It's...

"...-kun? Kamiya-kun? We're ready for you now. Please, come in."

Susumu Kamiya looks up at the face of the older woman staring down at him. His eyes reflect only the same oblivious warmth of his smile as he stands up.

"Um, of course! Sorry, sometimes I nod off a bit. I promise it won't happen when it counts, ha ha ha!"

And so he walks into the warm welcome of a open door, closing it behind him. The words REGISTRAR OFFICE - FRA MAURO UNIVERSITY shine through the door's window pane as it shuts, leaving nothing more than an empty hallway.

Where Susumu once sat, only the violently shredded remains of an acceptance letter lingers.