I looked at her. Really looked. Not at the legend, but at the girl. A girl with a knot in her throat and a storm in her heart.
The word friend hung in the air between us, fragile as a soap bubble. Meeting Komi After School
I almost walked away. That was the Average thing to do. Don't get involved. Don't draw attention. Let the untouchable goddess deal with her own divine shoelace. I looked at her
"Twenty minutes is a long time," I said. "Next time, just ask. I'm not very good at much, but I'm excellent at buckles." A girl with a knot in her throat and a storm in her heart
The strap of her loafer wasn't a complex knot. It was a simple buckle. But the leather was stiff and new, and her fingers, elegant and long, just couldn't seem to get the necessary grip. Her knuckles were white.
Komi Shouko was crying in earnest now. Silent, beautiful, horrible tears. Her shoulders shook.
"This might sound weird," I said, "but a little wax on the metal part of the buckle makes it slide easier. Do you… want me to show you?"
