The Note in the Margin

Sora got her homework back on Thursday. In the margin, someone had written a short note in blue ink: “Tomorrow, you dropped the baton, but you picked it up and finished anyway. Good job.”

“I didn't write this,” her teacher said, looking closely at the words. “It isn't my handwriting.” Sora had never seen this handwriting before, either.

Her friend Yui read it twice. “It doesn't look like anyone's handwriting in our class,” she said. “And why is it about tomorrow, written like it already happened?”

Sora thought it was a strange joke. Still, she practiced passing the relay baton extra carefully that night, just in case the note meant something.

The next day, during the relay, Sora's hand slipped and the baton fell. Runners behind her gasped. She picked it up quickly and kept running, and her team still finished third.

That evening, Sora looked for the note again, but the words had faded to nothing. Only a faint blue smudge remained on her fingertip when she touched the page.