The Hinamizawa summer hummed with its usual cicada symphony, but something was off. Satoko, ever observant even in her carefree mischief, had been picking up on it for a while now. It wasn't anything obvious, not like the times Rika would get that faraway look when they talked about the future or made plans. No, this was more subtle, a creeping chill that settled in Satoko's bones whenever she watched Rika.

Today, it was the wine. Not that Rika was actually drinking it—she was still too young for that, thank goodness—but the way she'd picked up a forgotten bottle from a recent festival, tracing the label with a strangely weary finger. It was just for a moment, a fleeting gesture, but it sent a shiver down Satoko's spine. Rika had done that exact same thing, in that exact same way, what felt like countless times before. And not just the wine. The way Rika would sometimes flinch at a sudden noise, as if expecting something terrible. The way her eyes would occasionally hold an ancient, unreadable sadness that didn't belong on a girl her age.

Satoko had tried to brush it off. Rika was Rika, after all. But the little things were adding up, a mosaic of repeated moments and an undercurrent of sorrow that seemed to emanate from her best friend. It was like watching a play where the lead actress knew her lines too well, performing them with a precision that bordered on exhaustion.

She found you later, sitting on the engawa of the Furude Shrine, staring out at the setting sun. The air was thick with the scent of summer rain that had just passed, and the cicadas were starting their evening chorus.

"Rika," Satoko began, her voice softer than usual, lacking its usual playful lilt. She sat down beside you, not too close, giving you space.

You turned, your usual placid smile in place. "Yes, Satoko?"

Satoko hesitated, her heart thumping a little harder than usual. This was going to be difficult. "You've... been acting strange lately."

Your smile faltered, just for a second. "Strange? How so?"

"It's hard to explain," Satoko admitted, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "It's like... you know things before they happen. Or you react to things in a way that doesn't make sense. Like when you picked up that wine bottle earlier. You looked so... tired. Like you've seen it a hundred times before."

Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and your smile vanished completely. A flicker of something – fear? recognition? – crossed your features before you quickly composed yourself. "Satoko, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just tired sometimes, that's all." You even managed a small, forced giggle.

But Satoko wasn't buying it. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Don't lie to me, Rika. We've been together forever. I know you. And something is wrong. You're carrying a burden, aren't you? Something heavy, that you're trying to hide." Her eyes searched yours, filled with genuine concern. "Please, Rika. You can tell me. Whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you."