Wherever he went, Ena came along.

She came along when he went looking for Kanako's right arm, which made the fruitless search all the more somber. Somehow, two whole weeks had passed since the search began.

"Sorry, do you mind? I won't be too long."

"It's all right. There's plenty of time."

This had become a common occurrence: a whispered exchange with Kanako about sparing some time to see Ena. Tomoya was 20 years old, and she was his first girlfriend—he was on top of the world. He felt indebted to Kanako, but to tell the truth, it seemed like a waste of time looking for her arm.

Today again Kanako was parked at his feet while he spent time with Ena. They left the coffee shop and walked the deserted corridors, the pack on his back feeling heavier than before by about a third. To ease his conscience he looked from side to side, pretending to search for the missing arm. Ena was watching him.

"What are you looking for?"

It was a perfectly natural question, but there was no possible way to tell her he was looking for the right arm of a girl who happened to be a capsule figure.

"Nothing. I'm not looking for anything."

The backpack stirred.

"But you are, aren't you? You keep looking around."

The agitation inside the backpack increased. He quickly reached back and gave the pack a squeeze, but it wouldn't calm down.

"I look like I'm looking around? I must be weird, huh?"

A major earthquake occurred inside the backpack. Tomoya was rocked from side to side along with it.

"Not weird, but what's going on? That backpack's moving around, isn't it?"

Kanako had finally reached her limit. The backpack popped open and she stuck her head out.

"If you don't want me around, why don't you say so!"

That was it—game over. Tomoya sank to his knees and let out a groan.