I care about my appearance, but I’m not the best-looking guy in class. I don’t have few friends, but I don’t have many either. I’m not bad at studying, but I’m no genius. I might be decent at sports, maybe.

In short, an ordinary person. That’s my self-assessment, Kashima Aoto. What should an ordinary person like me do if, by sheer chance, I stumble upon a stranger confessing their love? What should I do if that girl is crying right in front of me?

In the summer of my third year of middle school, right after retiring from my club, I didn’t have the answers. But there are some things I do know. For example, the girl who was crying after her failed confession is, on this graduation day, running happily in my line of sight. For example—