Morning sunlight spilled through the window, painting Reina's quiet room in a soft golden glow. She blinked slowly, half-asleep, tangled in her blanket. The hum of her anti-gravity systems in standby mode pulsed faintly from the next room, a reminder of her success days ago. But this morning wasn't for science — it was something else entirely.
Her gaze drifted toward the digital calendar projected on her wall. The date blinked gently:[Graduation Ceremony — Upperclassmen]
Reina's eyes widened slightly. "Ah…" she murmured, sitting up. "That's… today."
Dragging herself out of bed, she yawned, rubbing her eyes before heading to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silence as she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and ran her fingers through her long, slightly messy hair. Her reflection in the mirror looked as calm as always, though her golden eyes still carried a hint of sleepiness.
Within minutes, she was dressed neatly in her school uniform — blazer perfectly pressed, ribbon tied neatly. ANIER's voice resonated gently from the ceiling.
"Good morning, Reina. Estimated temperature outside: 23 degrees Celsius. You look… appropriate."
Reina gave a small smirk. "That almost sounds like a compliment."
"It was intended as one."
She chuckled softly before grabbing her bag and stepping out of the house.
At the school, the corridors buzzed with excitement. Students were gathering in the main hall — laughter, chatter, and the faint echo of piano music filled the air. Reina quietly slipped in, taking a seat near the front rows reserved for the younger students.
But before she could relax, a familiar voice called out, "Reina-chan!"
She turned to see Akiho Fujimura, the elegant and confident student council president, walking toward her with a clipboard in hand and a bright smile.
"Good morning, Fujimura-san," Reina greeted politely.
Fujimura leaned closer, whispering, "The upperclassmen… all of them want you to give a speech today."
Reina blinked, surprised. "Me? But… I'm not even graduating."
"I know," Fujimura said, still smiling. "But you're you. Everyone's been talking about how much you've done — helping clubs, tutoring, building all those crazy inventions. They want to hear from you. Just say something… anything you like."
Reina sighed softly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I see. So, it's an order?"
"Consider it a request… from all of us."
There was no escaping that. After a pause, Reina nodded. "Fine. I'll do it."
"Great! Come with me — I'll show you backstage."
The ceremony began as usual. The national anthem, the school's song, and a heartfelt speech from the principal about dreams and perseverance. The graduating students sat in neat rows, their uniforms adorned with pins and ribbons. Some smiled proudly, others were already crying quietly.
Reina stood behind the curtain, calm yet slightly nervous — not that she'd admit it. She wasn't one for speeches, but this… this was different.
Finally, Fujimura stepped up to the microphone. "And now, a special message from our very own prodigy, a name known across every corner of this academy — Reina Saeki!"
Applause erupted through the hall. Reina took a breath and stepped onto the stage.
Under the spotlight, her presence was quiet yet commanding. Her halo floated faintly above her head, glowing with soft blue light. She glanced at the crowd — hundreds of students, teachers, and proud parents.
"Good afternoon," she began, her voice calm but clear. "I… didn't expect to be here today. But I'm truly grateful to stand before all of you."
Her eyes softened as she continued, "To all our upperclassmen — thank you. Thank you for the years of guidance, kindness, and hard work you've shown. You've built this place, this school, into a home for us. For people like me."
She paused, then smiled faintly. "To Sei, Ren, Mei, and Arisa — my seniors from the Independence Research Society. You've taught me so much more than science. You've taught me patience, courage… and how to fail without giving up."
A few chuckles spread through the crowd. Reina continued.
"You all worked harder than anyone. You pushed through sleepless nights, failures, and experiments that didn't make sense until the very end. But look where you are now — standing tall, ready to face the next journey."
Her halo suddenly lifted higher, floating up toward the ceiling. The audience watched in awe as ANIER activated the projection system remotely. The lights dimmed.
Then — the entire ceiling dissolved into a breathtaking illusion of space. Stars glittered across the hall, planets drifted slowly, and cosmic light shimmered over the students. Gasps and whispers filled the room as everyone looked up, spellbound.
"This," Reina said softly, "is the space I dream of. A place so vast it makes us feel small… yet reminds us how far we can go. This is the future I want to share with everyone here."
Her voice grew gentler. "So, wherever you go — keep looking up. The sky… is just the beginning."
A moment of silence followed. Then thunderous applause filled the hall.
After the ceremony ended, Reina slipped quietly through the crowd, hoping to make a quiet exit. But before she could reach the gate —
"Reina-san!"
She froze. A flood of students — upperclassmen, underclassmen, and even teachers — surrounded her, holding gifts, letters, and flower bouquets.
"Thank you for your speech!"
"You were amazing!"
"You really inspired me, Reina-senpai!"
Reina blinked, caught off guard by the sudden swarm of attention. She tried to politely respond to each one, but the crowd kept growing.
"Ah— I…"
Just as she was about to be buried in flowers, a familiar hand reached through the crowd.
"Alright, alright, give her some air," Shion said with an easy grin, gently pulling Reina out from the crowd's grasp. "You're gonna crush her under all that gratitude."
The students laughed awkwardly, apologizing as they stepped back. Reina, holding several bouquets in her arms, sighed with faint amusement.
"It's fine," she said softly. "Just… a little overwhelming."
Shion chuckled. "You looked like you were about to vanish in a flower storm."
"Maybe I should've brought a bigger bag," Reina replied, half-smiling.
Shion looked at her, grinning wider. "I'll carry them for you."
"…You sure?"
"Of course. Consider it repayment for making me cry with that speech."
Reina blinked, tilting her head. "…You cried?"
"I—well—dust in my eyes!" he protested quickly.
Reina let out a quiet laugh, rare and soft. "Sure, Shion. Dust."
She handed him some flowers, their hands brushing briefly. Then, with a quiet sigh — not of exhaustion, but contentment — Reina said,
"Come on. The others are waiting."
"Yeah," he replied with a grin, walking beside her.
And together, beneath the gentle afternoon sunlight and the laughter of their friends nearby, they left the hall — hand in hand, surrounded by petals and fading echoes of applause.
Reina then thought to herself — "I guess i'm not A Lonely Child Of Space anymore." she smiled.
The stars were waiting for me.