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Arima's voice echoed through the air, her plea filled with desperation and heartache. "Mother, please stop those hurtful words," she cried. "You didn't mean them, did you? I didn't do anything wrong, did I? Why must I always bear the brunt of your anger and words that aren't meant for me? I can be here for you. I can listen to you. I won't do anything to make you sad... Just please... please don't torment yourself and me anymore."

In all those miserable months, Arima had never felt as exhausted by the suffering as she did now. Since a young age, she learned to bury her emotions, but the burden had become too heavy for her and her mother. With a heavy heart, Arima turned and fled from the anguish-filled home as fast as her legs could carry her. It was the first time she had ever turned her back, ignoring her mother's heart-wrenching tears that continued to stream down her cheeks in a sorrowful cascade.

On a tedious day spent entirely indoors, Agate found solace in her computer. With a subconscious smile, she indulged in her childish curiousness, typing "Arima" into the search bar as she was intrigued by the possible results. Unbeknownst to her, "Arima" had taken hold of Agate's mind, filling her thoughts with the desire to learn more about her enigmatic friend.

"There must be many people named Arima, right?"

Amidst a sea of search results, Agate's eyes fell upon a title that caught her attention: "Blog of Arima."

Agate, driven by curiosity and hope, delved into the blog. To her utter astonishment, the opening line of the blog read, "Now I'm lost." This would have been nothing remarkable had Agate not seen those exact words from Arima.

Suddenly, Agate's mind flashed back to their first conversation.

On an afternoon after school, as a new student, Agate was filled with interest in her new school. After dismissal, she lingered behind to explore every corner of the building. Many of her classmates volunteered to accompany the beautiful Agate, but she genuinely disliked their company. Then, by chance, while walking down a corridor of old classrooms at the end of the hallway, where discarded and broken furniture was piled up, Agate spotted Arima sitting there. As she approached, she noticed that Arima was asleep, listening to music through headphones. Arima's sleeping face was strangely peaceful and adorable, devoid of her usual indifference. "Has anyone ever seen her like this before?" Agate wondered, smiling to herself at her new discovery. One of Arima's buttons was undone. Agate accidentally noticed a faint line of words above her left breast. The words appeared to read "Now I'm l..." or something similar.

"She has a tattoo!" Agate secretly exclaimed.

Before Agate could fully process her surprise and confusion, Arima opened her eyes and spotted her. Arima gave her a suspicious look as if she did not believe someone could find this place. Then, she showed a cold stare, buttoned up her shirt, and turned away again, leaving Agate standing there.

"I have a feeling this blog belongs to her!" Agate thought as she began to read the "bizarre" posts.