Sora's POV
I didn't know she recorded anything.
Not until the old external drive in her desk flickered to life two nights ago. I only plugged it in because I was looking for sketches—maybe old training notes. Something to make sense of the pieces we were all holding.
What I found was a single file.
Titled:
"FOR AOI & SORA — open if it's time."
It's time.
Aoi's POV
We sit in the art room.
Sora's laptop rests between us, screen dimmed, the file waiting.
Neither of us speaks.
Then she clicks.
The audio crackles.
And Mirai's voice fills the room.
Voice Recording: Mirai
"If you're hearing this… then I guess I didn't get my miracle."
Pause.
"I'm not going to pretend this is some big reveal or dramatic goodbye. I'm not good at that stuff. You both know that."
"Sora… Aoi… I love you. And I'm sorry."
"Sora, I didn't tell you everything because I wanted you to have a life that wasn't mine. I didn't want you trapped in the echo of my choices."
"And Aoi… I didn't show you the second version of the Cross Court Formation because I knew what you'd do. You'd drop everything to finish it. Even me."
"But the thing is… that version was never meant for me."
"It was for you. And whoever came after me."
"Sora, you always said I played like a firecracker. Aoi, you used to say I moved like lightning."
"But the second version? It moves like rain and sunlight."
Pause.
"Together."
"You don't need to carry me anymore. You need to carry each other."
Soft laugh.
"Also, if Tanaka hears this—yes, the doodles in the back of my playbook are cats. No, they don't represent any strategy. They're just cats."
"I love you."
"Keep playing."
Sora's POV
I don't cry.
Not during the message.
Not after.
But something inside me finally clicks into place—like a gear that's been misaligned for too long.
Aoi's POV
I cry.
Not loudly. Not pretty.
Just enough to make my sketchbook blur where I'd drawn her shadow.
For so long, I thought finishing the formation was about proving I still knew her.
But she didn't want to be finished.
She wanted us to begin.
Rio's POV
They come to me that night—Aoi and Sora.
No warning. No explanation.
Just a shared look and a binder of old sketches.
Aoi opens it. The last page is labeled:
"Cross Court v.2: Rain and Sunlight"
I grin.
Because I already know—
We're building something now.
Not to remember Mirai.
To honor her forward.