On his return trip, Shiro Sakamaki wasn't in a hurry. Rather than summoning his beloved spiritual bicycle, he decided to enjoy something more mundane—riding the tram through the peaceful streets.
Once he arrived back in Tokyo, his first stop was the bank, where he cashed the personal check given to him by Haruno Yukinoshita—an unexpected bonus for resolving the ghost baby incident.
It had only been a little over two hours since he and Haruno had left school together, most of which had been spent on the train. Since Hiratsuka Shizuka had already approved his leave for the day, he saw no reason to return to school. Instead, he chose to take his time and explore.
Cherry blossom season was in full swing, and the streets were lined with trees in full bloom. The breeze carried loose petals through the air like pink snow, and the gentle fragrance of sakura filled the atmosphere.
Shiro strolled leisurely down a quiet path, enjoying the tranquility. There were no angry spirits lurking in the shadows, no evil aura—just peace.
His mind drifted to the future. Despite carrying the wisdom of a previous life, he wasn't some ancient cultivator with hundreds of years of insight. Between both lifetimes, he was barely fifty. His previous life had ended in his late twenties, and this body was only sixteen.
He had no desire to live like some old hermit, endlessly pursuing power for its own sake. He wanted to enjoy life—experience the things he missed before. Not everything had to be grand or meaningful.
"Maybe I'll become an artist," he mused aloud. "With my skills now, it shouldn't be hard."
He paused.
"Or maybe I'll try writing a novel…"
The idea was oddly tempting. He'd read many famous light novels, but copying them never really felt right. Remembering a plot is one thing—but perfectly recreating it? Impossible.
He'd have to go original.
"In the world of anime and light novels, writers and illustrators go hand in hand. A strong illustration can sell even the worst toilet-paper-tier novel," he chuckled to himself.
Those were the kind of books that fans bought just for the art—buy the illustration, get a bad novel free.
But Shiro wasn't in it for money. Money meant nothing to him. He just needed something to fill the time. High school days were short, and without a hobby, things got boring fast.
Sure, he could travel the world chasing supernatural phenomena, but becoming a full-time ghost-hunting volunteer sounded exhausting. And staying home to play games all day? It felt a bit… empty.
As he wandered, still deep in thought, his innate spiritual awareness helped him gracefully avoid every passerby. Even lost in his own head, his senses were sharp.
Eventually, his feet led him to a gentle slope lined with cherry blossom trees. Just as he reached the base, a sudden gust of wind swept down, filling the air with a whirlwind of petals.
Something soft tumbled across the path, brushing against his hand. He instinctively caught it.
When the petals cleared, he glanced down—and his expression turned curious.
It was a white beret.
The scene felt oddly familiar.
He looked up.
At the top of the slope stood a girl in a white beret, white blouse, and a short red coat. Her skirt fluttered violently in the wind as she struggled to hold it down with one hand, while the other pressed her hatless head.
It was straight out of a romantic anime introduction.
White.
There were no miracle skirts with anti-gravity tech here. Just reality—and gravity.
Shiro blinked.
"Wait a second… This looks like that scene. The one where the quiet heroine meets the protagonist at the slope…"
He scanned the area half-jokingly, expecting to see some lovestruck teenager waiting to bump into her. But the street was empty.
"Oh right, this isn't that story," he muttered. "Besides, I'm not some pure-hearted high school protagonist."
Still holding the beret, he walked up the slope.
The girl stood waiting. She looked delicate, with calm eyes and an air of subtle grace. Shiro's tall frame—he stood well over 180 cm—towered over her as he approached.
Perhaps feeling his presence, she stepped back slightly, wary but composed.
Shiro offered a small smile and leaned down slightly, holding out her beret.
"Your hat. Be careful next time. Not everyone's going to catch it for you."
The girl blinked, then softly accepted it. "Thank you."
Her voice was quiet, like a mountain spring—gentle, clear, and oddly comforting.
Then, after a pause, she added, "It seems we're fated to meet again, Senpai."
Shiro blinked. "You… know me?"
He was surprised. He didn't recall ever meeting her.
The girl smiled faintly and shook her head. "When we flew back from Korea, I sat next to you on the plane. You probably didn't notice me."
There was a subtle hint of disappointment in her voice, but it faded quickly. After all, she was used to being overlooked.
Shiro scratched his head, vaguely remembering a quiet, pretty girl next to him on the return flight. "Ah… that was you? My bad. I guess I wasn't paying attention. But I've got a pretty good memory—I'll remember you now."
The girl smiled softly. "You don't have to force yourself, Senpai. I'm used to it."
Shiro shook his head with a grin. "Nah. I remember your face now. So, tell me your name."
"I'm Megumi Kato. First-year at Toyozaki Academy. Pleased to meet you."
Shiro chuckled. "Toyozaki Academy, huh? What a coincidence."
Megumi tilted her head. "Are you also from Toyozaki?"
"No, no," he replied. "I'm Shiro Sakamaki, first-year at Shuchiin Academy"
"..."