Meeting Komi After School -

I panicked. "Oh no—I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Was that weird? I'm so sorry, I'll just—"

Her hands were trembling.

"Komi-san?"

My feet moved before my brain could stop them.

I didn't reach for her shoe. That would be too much. Too forward. Instead, I reached into my school bag and pulled out a small, battered tin. I opened it, revealing a tiny block of beeswax I used for the slide of my trombone. Meeting Komi After School

It was full.

She took her pen and wrote one final line in her notebook, then turned it toward me. I panicked

Another tear fell onto the notebook page, smudging the ink. She quickly wrote underneath: