Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 12 - Chapter 4

4

Until today, he has never once touched that key.

It was February, and the grass was still mostly dead. It had been feeling like spring for a while, but the chill often returned, the season passing only on the calendar. It would be a little while longer before the barren, wintry trees would bud. Walking through the park by the river or watching the occasional tree by the roadside, you could just see that it was cold. The path I usually biked to school was extra-wintry thanks to the crisp wind blowing from the sea.

Due to the long weekend, or maybe that thank-you from Komachi, I was kinda distracted until the biting cold air on my cheeks woke me up. The three-day holiday for entrance exams was now over, and the daily grind was back in force.

My body was adapting, too. After nearly two years doing this commute, I turned the corners and stopped at the lights unconsciously. My autopilot was optimized.

And I’d keep doing this for another whole year, so by the end, I’d be able to get to school with my eyes closed. Well, maybe—it’d be more accurate to say I’d have this commute for only another year. Sometime in the far future, I might indulge in nostalgia and come down this way on a whim again, but I only had another year to call it my commute.

Nothing ever lasts more than a season, no matter what it is or where you are. Even the cycle of the rising and setting sun becomes temporary once you assign special meaning to it, like the first sunrise of the new year, or the rising sun viewed from the top of a tall mountain or whatever.

And maybe you can say the same thing about relationships. Komachi and I will always be brother and sister, but we both know we’re different than we were as little kids. And that means changes in our relationship. I think we’ll still be siblings, but just slightly more grown-up. The past fifteen years have taught Komachi and me that time won’t cause some massive, critical change for us.

Komachi and I are family, so I don’t see a problem with that. I think this is as far as my luck will take me, and I’ve resigned myself to the inevitability of being attached to her in some way for the rest of my life. All her life, she’ll have to accompany Big Bro in hell.

—But how long could people who aren’t her stick with me?

As I was ruminating, I came up to the back gate of the school.

With a light squeeze on the brakes, I slipped between people and bicycles, turning the handlebars to slide into a free spot.

My bike squeaked as it came to a stop. I locked it up, and when I raised my head again, I found I had way more space here than I’d thought. Was this bicycle parking area always this big? I wondered, trudging my way to the school entrance.

Maybe it was because it was after a holiday, but there was a kind of giddiness among the kids in the halls, cheerily chatting as they went. It was like their voices were louder than usual. And I found the answer to my earlier question.

The third-years were right in the middle of their entrance exams, so they didn’t have to attend school. Most did not. That’s why the bicycle parking lot was empty and the first and second floors of the school building were deserted. All the classrooms I’d passed by on my way from the back door to the stairs were empty, adding to the echoes of the conversations in the hallways. The stillness and the quiet probably encouraged the students to speak louder, too.

It created something vaguely forlorn in this bustle.

But once I came up to the third floor where the second-year classrooms were, I found a warmth in the clamor. Obnoxiously so. I don’t give a rat’s ass how you spent the long weekend or whatever, shut up a minute. Come on. You don’t have to pull out your phones and show each other photos. And, like, you posted them on your social media anyway, didn’t you? That friend of yours probably already saw it, hit Like on instinct, and immediately forgot it. Oh, that’s why they go to the trouble of showing each other in person, huh? Wow! So thorough and meticulous! A two-pronged attack that leaves no chance for escape!

As I was scooting around the sea of Instagrammers in the hallways, light footsteps approached me from behind. When I shifted a half step right to cede the way, I got a smack on my left shoulder.

“Hachiman! Morning!”

When I turned around, I found the loveliest, most Instagrammable subject that could be Instagrammed. It was Saika Totsuka, in his uniform tracksuit with a windbreaker on top.

“H-hey…morning…,” I managed to reply.

Totsuka smiled mischievously as if he’d succeeded in a prank. “Did I get you?” he asked in a quiet, teasing voice.

With my breath still caught, I had no choice but to just nod-nod in reply. Aw, good grief! You teasing master Totsuka!

I mean, of course he’d get me—why is he so darn cute? Look at him in his overlong windbreaker sleeves and hiding his smile. He’s got way too much girlish charm. C’mon, this isn’t the time to be posting food photos of the fancy-schmancy stuff they sell in Daikanyama or Nakameguro. This is what I’m talking about; this is girlish charm. All girls, please take notes. Anyway, I’m slamming the Like button in the Instagram of my heart!

As I was firing off sixteen shots per second, my thudding heart calmed, my breathing evened out, and I regained enough presence of mind to take in the sight of Totsuka.

His soft, fine hair with its silvery sheen was a little mussed, his movement to adjust the racket case on his shoulder was brisk, the smile on his face was full of life and charm, and the cheeks of his healthy complexion were pink tinged. Hmm, I’m guessing he rushed over here after morning practice.

The faintly citrusy scent of his deodorant spray had to be a tasteful post-workout courtesy. And inhaling as much of that scent as possible to get it into my bloodstream meant I was just a man of taste myself. I took a loooong breath in through my nose, then let it out and made an attempt at conversation. “Back from morning practice, huh? It’s amazing you can do that in the cold.”

“Yeah. But I’m used to it now,” Totsuka replied with a cute grin. He didn’t miss a beat; instead of deflecting, his delivery told me he was quite confident, actually. “The new students are going to be coming soon, so I have to work hard to show them my best.”

He held up two firm fists in front of his chest like he was ready for the fight, and it was so adorable and charming and dependable and cute and basically every positive adjective ever invented. The result was that my full vocabulary capacity died on the spot, and I could do nothing but stare in wibbly-eyed awe. I don’t need words anymore…

Totsuka seemed confused, as he tilted his head curiously and looked at me through his lashes. “What are you guys going to do about the new students?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t expecting that question, even if I hadn’t been in a trance.

Totsuka must have thought that meant he hadn’t explained enough; he waved his hands and added, “You know, since the Service Club is a real club. Don’t you need new students to join?”

Real club might be a bit of a stretch…, I thought, but it was a good question. “I dunno… I’m just a lackey, so I don’t really know. I don’t even really get how the club’s supposed to be structured… I was basically abducted into it and threatened into staying imprisoned there.”

“Ah-ha-ha, is that right…?” Totsuka said awkwardly.

“So I don’t think we need new members,” I continued, and he softly lowered his gaze.

“Oh… That’s kind of too bad.”

If there were no new additions, then the Service Club really would vanish before long. Not exactly a surprise, but something I was being reminded of now. I put one foot forward, walking ahead of Totsuka, where he couldn’t see my face, and gave a tired sigh for effect. “It’s too bad… Wish I could’ve been a club elder and talked down to the newbies just once. You’re not the only one struggling; everyone’s been through the same. If you quit now, no one else will ever take you in.”

“W-wow, what a jerky club elder…” I heard a slightly awkward, strained chuckle behind me. “Ah, that’s not what I meant to say! The Service Club is a great club, so I’d love if it stuck around…” Hopping a step forward, Totsuka came up by my side again. I saw in his eyes that he was concerned for me.

“…Well, that’s up to the club captain and the teacher-advisor. I’m just a minion here. I don’t get to stamp approval on anything.” Those were the facts, and yet they didn’t feel remotely true.

Totsuka giggled. “When you put it like that, it sounds like you’re talking about your office job.” He seemed close to rolling his eyes, but maybe he was on the mark.

I maintained a very consistent stance on this. Work came about in the form of requests and consults, often accompanying problems, issues, and dilemmas. I would deal with them to the extent I could. My own desires hadn’t really had much to do with it. I’d always done it because it was the work expected of me.

So my reply was a slight bit masochistic. “Right? Once you get employed, it’s even worse than this. Awful. Really awful. God, I don’t wanna get a job.”

As we were laughing about it together, we reached our classroom and, with casual waves, headed to our own seats.

The heater in here made the classroom somewhat warmer than the hallway, so the whole place felt a bit lazy. The drafts made the seats by the doors chilly, but as you progressed farther in, the blessings of the heater enabled comfort for many. Saki Kawasaki was at the front right next to the window, leaning her cheek on her hand with her eyes closed, and I wasn’t sure if she was dozing off.

On the other hand, when I turned my gaze to the crowd sitting at the back of the class near the window, they were as full of energy as ever. Maybe it was because of how well the baking event went the other day. They were surrounding Tobe, enjoying a lively discussion about whatever the topic of the day was.

Had that event changed their relationships? Yumiko Miura had been unable to figure out the right distance, but she’d closed it just a little; Hina Ebina had placed herself at an appropriate distance, but she’d still made progress forward; meanwhile, Kakeru Tobe…well, who cares? I think he had fun. He’s Tobe, so I mean…who cares?

But what about the one who said it was a “good event”…? I wondered. Yuigahama was in the crowd, too, and she noticed me studying them. Her mouth opened a bit, and she gave me a little wave. Please don’t; it’s kinda embarrassing… But of course I couldn’t ignore her, so I responded with a little nod of my own.

Then, following Yuigahama’s gaze, Miura and the others glanced over at me, too. Still sproinging her curls, Miura returned her attention to her phone again, while Ebina acknowledged me with a voiceless heeey. Tobe huffed a few heys and huhs in lieu of actual greetings.

And then, with just a smile and a glance, Hayato Hayama communicated his good morning. I nodded back, then pulled out my chair.

Leaning my cheek on my hand on the desk, I closed my eyes.

Now that I thought about it, things had changed. We might not both say Good morning out loud, but if our eyes met, that was still worth a nod.

When had this started? The answer was actually very simple: since I’d started looking at them.

Hayama’s clique had always been present and visible, even when I’d only just joined this class. At the time, they might as well have been classroom decorations. But I’d still remembered their names, and I’d been aware of the peripheral information related to them, like their clubs and stuff. I’d had some awareness of them.

But I hadn’t known them.

…Not that I know them well now, either.

I’m not sure if it was this line of thought or the unfamiliarity of exchanging greetings with them, but it got under my skin. The seat of my chair was too uncomfortable to settle into, and I immediately got up again.

Times like these, the best plan is to escape to the washroom. Running is shameful but useful. Like that comedy duo who got into a traffic accident a while back and did a hit-and-run that ended up putting them under house arrest. When they made their comeback, they had a slam-dunk routine!

I scooted out of the classroom and smoothly got my business done. How about I buy a drink, too…? I thought, heading for the vending machine at the school store. Late as it was, I caught sight of a sprinkling of kids rushing through the halls to barely make it on time, but it was still very quiet compared with before.

Which was why the footsteps behind me were so obvious. I could feel whoever it was behind me, walking calmly and maintaining a fixed distance.

When I reached the vending machine and stopped, the footsteps behind me stopped after one step, too.

I quickly bought my usual Max can and stepped out of the way, and my stalker leisurely strode forward to press the button for a canned black coffee. “I heard,” he said to me as he squatted to take his drink. He didn’t turn, as if he was certain I would linger there.

Before, his attitude would have made me sick. I would have snapped at him, probably. But that wasn’t the case anymore.

Now, I knew Hayato Hayama was the kind of person who said things that got on my nerves, so I was only a little irked.

I also knew he’d come here to tell me something, so I wouldn’t be too mad. Aw, nooo! Whoops, I think I’m really mad, actually!

Seriously, where does he get off talking to me that way…? He’s just like her, always needling to see how you’ll react… Well, people do tend to pick up verbal habits and speech tics from others. Goes to show how long they’ve known each other.

In a way, it was completely natural for Hayama to touch on what happened.

“Sounds like you’ve had a tough time. At least it’s a weight off your shoulders, huh?” Hayama continued as he lightly juggled the hot can, until he finally turned back to me with a knowing look.

Did you know, Raiden…? I mentally grumbled to myself as I acted confused. “Huh? What is? Oh, my little sister? You’re talking about entrance exams?”

“No,” Hayama said with a sigh, deflating. “I mean, that too, I guess, but… Oh, tell your sister for me. Congrats on getting through her exams.”

“Nope. I don’t have to pass on a message from you. But thanks for the sentiment.” I met his charming smile with a dull-eyed look.

Hayama blinked, startled. “I never thought I’d get a thanks from you for that.” He pulled the tab of his canned coffee with a pssht and brought it to his lips with a slightly dark smile.

Hey, I do thank people, you know? If anything, I’m surprised how conscientious he’s being, remembering to offer congratulations even now…

But that conscientious nature was why Hayama also made sure to bring us back to the subject we’d drifted away from. “Your little sister aside…I’m talking about someone else’s little sister.”

Someone else’s little sister, huh? Who might that be? Keika? Oh, that was a tough time; that little girl has a portentous future… I should have played dumb, but Hayato Hayama was too serious to allow that.

If I made another joke, I’m sure he would have said something like, Oh, okay, so that’s the kind of person you are and come to some private conclusion on the matter.

We both mostly knew each other’s cards.

The fact was that Hayama and I both assumed we understood each other. We’d been disappointed, then resigned, and eventually accepting—all we’d ever done was make each other deal with our own self-centered sentimentality.

When I vented at him, the words were always directed elsewhere, and they never took the form of questions. I’d never even make sure they reached their target, but I couldn’t go without saying them. We knew our stances were incompatible, but ignoring each other would just grate on us, so we just exchanged unsolicited comments and mildly sarcastic insinuations.

“…Well, the tough part is yet to come, right? Not like I know,” I said.

“True enough.” Hayama broke into a broad, slightly bitter smile as he tossed out the empty can. It flew in an arc to land unerringly in the garbage, the clang echoing through the deserted first floor of the school building. After watching the can land, Hayama let out a faint sigh, as if to get rid of his smile. I couldn’t tell if the emotion behind it was satisfaction or desolation.

As I was still puzzling out the answer, he strode off. “…But it’s way better than before. I thought things would never change,” he muttered over his shoulder without waiting for my response. I don’t think he was expecting one.

Yeah, this was how conversations between us always went. Barely even a conversation at all.

We were just wringing out the things we didn’t want to say, then taking the other’s words and assigning our own meanings to it. It wasn’t so much “interpretation” as “decapitation.” We cut off the words that could have become conversation and watched their demise.

Hayama was already a few steps ahead. Following him, I thought back on the exchange.

From whom had Hayama heard that Yukinoshita had gone back home? From his parents? Or from Haruno? Or had he heard it from Yukinoshita herself? Or had Yuigahama brought it up? Well, it didn’t make much difference, whichever it was. It all meant the same thing.

When you got right down to it, Hayato Hayama had sensed that something was changing due to Yukino Yukinoshita’s actions—and it was a change he’d never expected to see.

I was just glad Hayama had taken that as a positive thing. He’d been close with the Yukinoshita family and those sisters for a long time, so his words were worth trusting. My concerns were assuaged a little. I could feel relief that Yukinoshita was doing well, off wherever she was.

When he’d commented on the “weight on my shoulders,” I’d deliberately chosen to assume he meant Komachi, but maybe that turn of phrase hadn’t been wrong. There was something similar in this sensation, the ache in my chest, to the time Komachi had thanked me.

The ache was the proof that it was right.

On the way back to the classroom, the distance between Hayama and me never shrank.

As the latecomers rushed by in the last seconds before the bell, they all said their good mornings to Hayama. Each time, Hayama raised a casual hand in response.

I didn’t even notice when my eyes turned to Hayama’s restlessly moving arm.

I suddenly wondered if maybe Hayama’s feelings toward her might be similar to mine toward Komachi. They were close in a sense; did he watch her the way I watched Komachi? Did he watch both of them? In the brief time before we reached the classroom, I let myself speculate.

The moment Hayama put his hand on the door, the distance between us closed just a bit.

The classroom had seemed quiet that morning, but as the day wore on, the buzz of activity grew, as if a gradual heat was building in the whole school.

During the entrance exam period, none of the clubs had been meeting, so maybe that was why the jocks and their ilk seemed full of energy. Already, there were calls from the baseball and rugby clubs ringing out from the sports grounds.

Everyone in a sports club was already gone, Hayama’s group included, and the other kids were decreasing in number, too.

Clubs, huh…? We do have club today, right? Or don’t we? Might as well just go… As I wondered, I slowly got ready for the end of the day. Then, right as I was about to rise from my seat, I heard the patter of hurried footsteps toward me. I know that sound…

I turned around right as she was tilting her head to peer at me, so our faces wound up startlingly close. “Whoa! Geez…”

“Ah, s-sorry!” Her pinkish-brown bun did a little bob, her big eyes innocently widened, and a gasp left her soft-looking lips. As she jolted back, it was hard not to notice her chest or the citrus smell when she turned her face away to break eye contact.

My heart skipped a beat experiencing all of it so close.

When I breathed a big sigh, Yuigahama flicked a glance at me. “I think you’re a little too startled.” Despite her efforts, a little snerk escaped her; then she smacked my shoulder with a giggle.

Aw geez, this is embarrassing on so many levels. I kinda wanna die a few times… And now people are looking… Anyway, could you stop touching my upper arm? It’s super-effective, and it makes me want to store energy to make myself presentable.

“Going to club?”

“…Y-yeah. More or less,” I answered, still a bit stunned as I attempted to calm my racing heart.

Yuigahama seemed to consider for a while. But she quickly nodded. “…Oh. Yeah. Wait there a sec.” She rushed back to Miura’s group, let them know she was going, and snatched up her stuff—more than usual, like a backpack or something—and then trotted back to me.

“Let’s go,” she said, then started shoving my back impatiently.

U-um, I am going, so please don’t push… Remember, kids, in emergencies, it’s important not to push, run, or talk. When you get to my level, you have so much fire safety awareness, you’ll even avoid talking with people on a regular basis.

And I’m not kidding about this being an emergency. We’d gone together to the clubroom before. But in my recollection, this was the first time we’d ever left the classroom together.

Worried about unwanted attention, I turned back to check. But there weren’t many kids still in the classroom, and most of them were focused on those in front of them. They weren’t paying much attention to us. I wondered about the pair who’d been talking to Yuigahama just a minute ago and glanced over to check up with them as well—but Ebina just waved bye-bye, while Miura sproinged her curls. They didn’t seem particularly suspicious of me.

This was a relief.

No matter what I was thinking, anyone else would’ve said that this was perfectly normal.

Everyone just knew that Yuigahama would go to the Service Club room after school, and the other two girls knew I was a member of the Service Club, too. Of course we’d go to the clubroom together.

I think before, there would have been funny looks—not just at me, but at Yuigahama, too.

Back when they were all just units in a class rank to me, I’d never have considered this possibility. But now that I’d been involved with them as individuals, now that we’d been getting a glimpse into each other’s lives, I could make conjectures about all sorts of things. I wouldn’t call that understanding, but we’d learned enough that we could make some sense of each other.

Of course, I could say the same about the girl walking beside me.

It was some time after school had ended, so the hallway to the special-use building was emptier than usual. The air was as cold and dry as always.

And yet it didn’t feel that wintry and bleak.

The reason for that was Yuigahama beside me…carrying a fluffy blanket in her arms. Glancing at her, I saw Yuigahama burying the end of her chin in it. Why’s she brought a blanket? Linus? Is she Linus? Is this a Peanuts connection? This is Chiba, after all…

“So, like, what’s up with the blanket?” I asked, mainly just to break the silence while we were walking.

Yuigahama tilted her head like, Huhhh? “You mean this buranket?” She used the English word instead.

“It means the same thing… What, is there some subtle difference? Is it like pasta and spaghetti? Stop using English for everything…”

“Huhhh? But it has buranket written on it… And wait, both those words are English…,” Yuigahama said grumpily, before she suddenly figured it out and a wrinkle creased her brow.

So she noticed, huh…? But I ignored her reaction, staring at the blanket instead. It was folded into a ball, but it wasn’t that big. I wasn’t sure if it was even enough for a twin bed. I remembered the term that was perfect for that sort of size.

“Oh, it’s a lap blanket,” I said.

Nuzzling her face deep into the warmth, Yuigahama nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Basically.”

“Huhhh…you didn’t already have one?”

My mind went back to something that had happened in the clubroom. Yuigahama and Yukinoshita had been sitting side by side, putting a single blanket over their laps to make it like a kotatsu. I clearly remembered thinking, That looks nice and warm. Man, I’m so cold, I wanna go home.

Feeling slightly envious and extra-conscious of the chill in my usual spot, I eyed the blanket in Yuigahama’s arms.

She blinked her wide eyes. “I didn’t think you were looking…”

“U-uh, well, more like it’s just there in my field of vision…”

“It is, huh…?”

“Uhhh, well, my field of vision covers a lot of things, you know…” I came up with a reply, but I’m not sure if it was actually true or if I had more of a tendency to narrowly focus on things. I mean, even when I self-consciously turned my face away, I could still see Yuigahama burying her reddened cheeks in the blanket.

Our footsteps were loud in the quiet hallway. You could even hear the wind hitting the windows and my own tiny sigh.

Aw man, this silence is, like, really stressful! I don’t even know why, but somehow I’ve dug my own grave. If I don’t say anything and five seconds pass, it’ll time out and count as a wrong answer, and I’ll get “bad communication”! And that means a reduced reward! Even if I can’t get perfect, I’d like to get good—hell, even normal communication, at least. Not that a perfect will help your affection score.

And so I just said the first thing that came to mind. “Wait, you already have a lap blanket. Why did you get another one? How many laps do you have? Are you a centipede?”

“No! It just came as an extra when I bought a magazine!” Yuigahama shot back, her chin jerking up. But her spirit quickly wilted, her eyebrows sinking into an upside-down V as she despondently muttered, “…So I wound up with a whole bunch, and honestly I can’t get rid of them.”

“O-oh… Okay…” So she doesn’t actually want it…

Well, you do get a lot of blankets and blanket-type things in the winter, whether as extras, bonuses, or presents. In fact, I feel like we have a few at our house, too. I see them about as frequently as the plates you get from the spring bread festival. Those plates never break, so you just keep accumulating more…

That made sense to me, so I indicated my understanding, and Yuigahama nodded in return with a smile. “So I brought it from home. It’s still cold, and besides…” She suddenly stopped. Her gaze slid up ahead to the Service Club room, and I did the same.

Pausing to choose her words, Yuigahama took a little breath. “…If the club is gonna go on a bit longer, I thought maybe I’d leave it here,” she added in a quiet mutter before immediately pursing her lips and staring awkwardly at the ground. All I could do was offer a meaningless ahhh.

Maybe I could’ve come up with something random to say, as I often did. But I couldn’t cover at all this time.

—If it’s gonna go on.

I could hear how certain she was that this was going to end.

By the time we reached the clubroom, I still hadn’t come up with the right answer. So instead of giving one, I put my hand on the door handle.

But the door just rattled loudly and didn’t budge.

“…It’s locked,” I said.

Yuigahama peered over my shoulder at the door. “So Yukinon hasn’t come yet…,” she said. Shifting her things under her arm, she began rummaging around in her coat pocket.

I began ambling off. “I’m gonna go get the key.”

“Huh? Ah—” Yuigahama started saying something to me, but I replied with just a hand wave. It’s fine, it’s fine. I was somewhat rushing on my way to the teachers’ room. Only Yukinoshita had ever opened the door to the Service Club room.

I’d never noticed until now.

She’d always been the only one to carry the key, and I’d never even touched it.

When I cracked open the door to the teachers’ room, there was a whole flurry of activity inside.

Mountains of documents covered every desk in sight, and conversations, meetings, and calls were happening all over the office.

Yikes. Kinda hard to break in and be like, Hey, where’s the keyyy…?

Times like these, the best plan is to talk to Miss Hiratsuka, since she’s basically always here watching anime or eating. This was as exciting as startling someone to wake them up. With glee, I said “Pardon me” quietly and stepped toward her workspace.

I’d been dragged out to this desk—er, visited it—plenty of times before. But this time was different.

Miss Hiratsuka’s desk was normally a total chaos of documents, envelopes, canned coffees, and figurines having a wild party, but that day, it was neat and tidy. In fact, the only thing on it was a notepad with a black cover, tied with string, and a ballpoint pen.

For an instant, I thought I had the wrong desk. The only sign of Miss Hiratsuka was the rolling desk chair, specifically its backrest tilting way back. But the woman herself was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, Hikigaya. What is it?”

I glanced around and found the source of the voice a little ways away, poking her head out from behind the partition to the reception space. A cigarette in her lips.

Oh yeah, she was using that section as a smoking area, huh…?

Her waving turned into a beckoning gesture, so I headed over. It seemed she’d been doing some kind of writing, but now she was in the middle of a break or something. She held an unopened can of coffee, perhaps to go with the cigarette. What she’d chosen was, of course, MAX Coffee. As for why, because I was someone very special.

Coming in as prompted, I sat down on the sofa in the reception area and told her my business. “Um, I came to get the key.”

Miss Hiratsuka gave me a curious look. “Oh? But Yukinoshita just picked it up.” Blowing out a cloud of smoke, she tapped the ash off her cigarette. I scowled at the distinctive tarry smell and the suspicion that I’d wasted my effort, and the teacher gave me an exasperated smile. “Why don’t you keep in contact to check these things? Reports, communication, and discussion are important.”

“Uh, I don’t know her number.”

“…And Yuigahama?” She gave me a doubtful look.

“Uh, well…” I laughed with a na-ha-ha to avoid that question. No way could I tell her I’d just wanted to come get the key.

But even if I didn’t say it, Miss Hiratsuka seemed to sense it anyway; she gave me a quiet shrug and a lukewarm smile. I squirmed with discomfort.

Then, in my periphery, I noticed the other teachers and office staff running around, and I took advantage of that to change the subject. “Looks kinda busy here, huh?”

Miss Hiratsuka narrowed her eyes and followed my gaze. “Hmm? …Ahhh. Well, the school year is just about over. It’s par for the course, this time of year.”

Huh. I’d assumed they were busy with entrance exams, but it wasn’t just that, was it? They had to take care of graduation and students advancing to the next year as well, after all. And since Miss Hiratsuka was in charge of us second-year students, maybe she wouldn’t have much involvement with the new first-years.

“I guess everyone’s busy at the end of the fiscal year and the school year. My parents had a lot on their plate, too.”

“Well, it depends on what time of year a company closes their books, but a lot of places set the cutoff at the end of March, after all. You wind up having to meet their deadlines, so it gets so busy… I want to go home… Closing accounts, end of term, deadlines…all of it can go die…” She hung her head, cursing and complaining.

And yet you seem to have plenty of time at the moment…, I thought, giving her a silent judgmental stare, and Miss Hiratsuka noticed my wordless question.

“Mgh, I’m busy, too, you know? I really am!” She suddenly straightened in her seat, dramatically puffing up her cheeks in a pout.

Hmm, very close. If you were a little younger, I could have honestly found that cute… But when you’ve gotten to Miss Hiratsuka’s age, it comes around full circle to be actually cute again! Aw geez, she actually is cute!

“And now…I’m taking a break. Just a little one? Y’know?” she said emphatically, then pressed her cigarette into the ashtray, crushing it along with my doubts.

But you know what they say: Where there’s smoke, there’s fire…

“You’ve made your desk pretty tidy there.”

“W-well, when you’re busy, you end up trying to escape reality.” She scratched her head with an ah-ha-ha to cover herself.

Well, I know the feeling… When you have too much to do, you kinda black out and then suddenly you’re gaming! Hmm, can’t blame her for that. Not guilty. Faulting her would be going in the entirely wrong direction. Work is to blame for everything. Work is what’s bad. It’s important to hate the work, not the person.

As I was folding my arms and nodding, Miss Hiratsuka let out a little sigh. “But I have to get my work sorted out soon, too…,” she muttered, and I don’t think she meant to say it to me. Or possibly at all. Her gaze was down on the ashtray by her hand. There was no longer any fire or smoke—just the lingering smell.

I’d thought I was used to that stench by now, but I couldn’t help but scowl. Maybe it was from remembering my conversation with Haruno. The smell that night had been suffocating and a bit anxiety inducing, just like this one.

In an attempt to forget it, I rose to my feet. “…I’m going to get back.”

“Mm-hmm, you should go.” Miss Hiratsuka followed me.

Right as I was about to leave the reception area, she called after me. “Hikigaya.”

I stopped and turned around. “Yeah?”

Her lips opened slightly, but she just stared at me without saying anything.

Her gaze wasn’t sharp like usual, but I didn’t see that gentleness she occasionally showed me, either.

I’d never seen this expression on her, actually. I really wanted to hear what came next, and I tilted my head to prompt her.

But she closed her eyes and gave a little shake of her head, then grinned boyishly. “…Nothing. Just make sure to get it! Catch!” And with that, she threw the can in her hands at me in an underhand toss. I managed to catch it, then gave her a silent What the heck?

Miss Hiratsuka put a hand to her cheek in a cutesy-wootsy~  sort of gesture, tossed me a big   wink, and stuck out her tongue. “No telling anyone I was slacking off here!  ”

Whoa, she’s obnoxious… What’s with that “dreamy-cute!” vibe? Wait. So is this canned coffee supposed to be a bribe to keep my mouth shut? She didn’t have to bother, though, since there isn’t exactly anyone for me to tell…

Anyway, I returned fire with a sideways Peace   capisce! and left the teacher’s room.

If the clubroom door was already unlocked, then there was no rush. Yukinoshita would already have reached it by now, and she’d have let Yuigahama in, too. While juggling the Max can I’d just received in one hand, I strolled casually down to the clubroom.

Unsurprisingly, Yuigahama wasn’t to be seen in front of the door, and I could hear two voices from inside. Maybe it was those voices that added the warmth to the bleak sights here.

The door that had only rattled without opening now moved smoothly to the side. The scent of black tea wafted out along with the warm air from the heater. The two girls were sitting in their usual spot by the window.

With a call to them, I pulled out my usual chair on the hallway side. “’Sup.”

“Hello.” Yukinoshita was just pouring the tea into cups, and she looked up from the desk with a smile. But her eyebrows quickly lowered apologetically. “I’m sorry. It seems we just missed each other… I should have contacted you.”

“Ahhh, yeah. It’s okay.” I waved the canned coffee in the air as if getting it had been my intention all along, and Yukinoshita let out a relieved sigh.

But Yuigahama held her breath instead, puffing up her cheeks. “I told you I’d call her…”

A wry smile slipped out of me at her pouty complaint. “Nah, I don’t think you said that…”

“You left before I could.”

“Um, but I was getting the Max can? Ah, never mind. Sorry…” With her giving me the stink eye, I tried to make something of an excuse for myself with the coffee in hand, but under the force of Yuigahama’s rapidly chilling stare, I wound up apologizing for real.

“…It’s fine.” She let the air out of her cheeks and brought the mug in her hands to her lips.

Yukinoshita giggled at our exchange and then, teapot in her hands, shifted her attention to me. “Anyway, I did make some tea… Would you like some?”

“Yeah, sure. They say sweets go in your second stomach, after all.”

“You say that about coffee?! It really is supersweet!” Yuigahama seemed almost frightened of my Max can.

Uh, I sure do. I’d even say it’s far sweeter than the low-carb, low-fat sweets out there these days…

Well, I’d save the coffee for when I was more in the mood; for now, I’d have the freshly steeped tea for the after-school teatime.

“Here you go.”

“Mm, thanks.”

I took a little sip from the Japanese-style cup Yukinoshita poured for me and let out a sigh, feeling the tension of my body unwind.

I didn’t even realize how much tension there’d been and what it had taken to relax me.

The random flood of words from my mouth wasn’t coming anymore, and all I could manage was a humid breath.

I could have sworn I’d never been bothered by the silence before, but now, this awkward gap was almost terrifying. I cast a sideways glance to check on Yuigahama and found she was looking down at the ripples in her mug. Her mind was in a similar place, I think.

But not Yukinoshita’s.

As Yuigahama and I failed to find anything to say, she smiled calmly and broached the subject. “Um, thank you…for the other day.” Laying her hands on her lap, she quietly lowered her head in a beautiful, flowing gesture.

I was a little relieved to see it. I couldn’t tell you where, but I had the sense I’d seen this before: that beautiful straight-backed posture, the lovely way her hair parted at the top of her head, and her faint smile in front of me. That sense of déjà vu enabled me to speak more gently than I’d expected from myself.

“…Did you finish moving? How’d it go?” I asked. I’d heard about it from Hayama that morning, so I already knew, but I said it anyway. You should hear this sort of thing from the person in question, after all.

Yukinoshita nodded and continued. “Yes. It wasn’t enough to call a move, anyhow… And besides, Yuigahama helped.” Yukinoshita gave her a warm look, and Yuigahama waved her hands in front of her chest.

“Ah, no, no, no way! I didn’t do much at all…” Yuigahama gave a modest, awkward laugh, combing through her bun to occupy her fingers as she turned away.

But Yukinoshita was undeterred. “You really were a help. Thank you…” Her smile was peaceful and dreamlike, making me think of warm sunlight.

As the primary focus of that attention, Yuigahama glanced back at Yukinoshita as well. And when their eyes met, the expression brought to mind a smile through tears. She let out a deep, shaking sigh.

Yukinoshita seemed embarrassed by that reaction. “Should I put out some snacks to go with the tea?”

The room warmed slightly, the smell of tea with a hint of sweetness spreading through it. The rays of the sun were just beginning to slant in and color the air, too.

Suddenly, the air vibrated with a knock, knock at the door.

“Come in,” Yukinoshita responded calmly, and the door slowly opened.

A ray of light from the window shone through the crack in the door, and the cold air coming in from the outside churned up the heat in the room like a burst of wind. One of the windows in the hallway must have been opened for circulation. The clubroom was now filled with fresh air.

“Pardon meeee!” said Iroha Isshiki, the summoner of the recent gust, grinning by the open door. And making no move to come in.

Huh? Why’s she just standing there? And, like, leaving the door wide-open makes it cold…

As I was shooting her an accusatory look, Isshiki poked herself in the cheek with her index finger and tilted her head. “Ummm, there was a computer here, riiight…?”

“There is…,” Yukinoshita replied with slight confusion.

Then Isshiki asked with even further nonchalance, “Can you watch DVDs with it?”

Yukinoshita cocked her head pensively, and she moved to pull the laptop computer out of the desk drawer to check.

But she didn’t have to bother—I knew the answer. “It’s an old one, so you actually can use it for DVDs.”

“Huhhh.”

Why is she impressed by that…?

“What about it?” I asked.

“Oh, no, just checking.”

“Huh… Uh, checking what…?”

With a little wave, she gave us a look that said, Nothing major. But it seemed Isshiki finally decided she wanted to come in, as she closed the door behind her, grumbling as she approached. “I’m fine watching it online or whatever, too, but I can’t get a receipt for it. You need a credit card for stuff like that, right?”

“I’m not sure why you’re asking me…” Yukinoshita was the one to respond. She sounded just as confused as Yuigahama and I felt. What is she talking about…?

As we were giving her questioning looks, Isshiki briskly booted up the laptop. “So I rented the DVD, but the student council laptop is too new to play it.”

Huh…theirs is new… Oh, really…? Sure is nice to have money… Well, laptops these days more often don’t have disk drives, huh…?

As I was thinking, Isshiki’s bag rustled as she pulled out something. It was a white, square box of about palm size.

“…What’s this?” Yuigahama gave it a timid poke with her finger.

Indeed. What’s this, tofu? Then I noticed the lens and buttons on it. Okay, so probably not tofu…

Grabbing that box, Isshiki stuck a cable into it and began connecting it to the laptop.

Yukinoshita made an appreciative ohhh. “It’s quite small, but it’s a projector…”

“Yep, yep. Oh, just gonna pull down the screen, ’kay?” Isshiki nodded back at her, then stood up and went to pull down the projector screen in the corner of the clubroom with a little fshhh.

What’s she starting up here? I wondered, and Isshiki clicked a button on the box. A low, whirring sound started up, and after a few moments, the computer display was projected onto the big screen.

“Oh, wow.” Yuigahama’s mouth hung open, while Yukinoshita had her arms folded, hand on her chin.

“The image is very clean.”

Isshiki waggled a finger at the two of them with a smug chuckle. “Apparently, it can project from phones and stuff, too.”

“Ohhh,” Yuigahama said. But then a thought seemed to hit her. “Ah.” With a little meh-heh, she asked jokingly, “But…isn’t it expensive?”

Flinging her arms out wide, Isshiki answered, “Act fast, and it’s a student council expense, so it’s functionally free for me! You won’t believe it!”

“That’s the worst kind of product demo…,” I groaned.

No tagline is shadier than “functionally free.” Never naively trust video games that are “functionally free-to-play,” or multilevel marketing schemes that claim a guaranteed profit in the long term. I would not be deceived, I would pay no microtransactions, and I would only use the free magic stones to roll for gacha. With that solemn oath in my heart, I patiently observed.

“And, like, what is this projector?” I asked. It appeared to be brand-new; it even had the clear protection seals on it.

Isshiki gave the projector a long look, then tilted her head. “Newly bought equipment…I guess.”

Uh, don’t say it like Jumping abilityyy…I guess… Big brother Irohasu, I want you to have more confidence when you explain the appeal of the student council’s new Friend, Projector-chan.

“Not that—we’re asking what you brought it here for…” Yukinoshita put her hand to her temple like she had a headache.

Yeah, I wanted to ask the same thing.

“Well, about that…,” Isshiki said as she twirled a DVD around on her finger and set it in the disk drive.

Yuigahama seemed to put two and two together, and she hopped to her feet. “A movie? A movie? We’re gonna watch a movie?” She seemed excited, bouncing over to close the curtains and flicking off the lights.

Uh, we’re obviously not going to watch a movie here…

Then, a distinctly familiar-looking image popped up on the screen. You know the type—a certain freedom-centric statue, or a lion going grr, or letters over spotlights, or waves going za-sploosh.

…Huh? We’re actually gonna watch a movie?

Ignoring my confusion, Isshiki slid her chair to a position where she could see the screen better. And then Yuigahama set the desk with snacks on it in front of us, and we were all ready.

…Huh? We’re actually gonna watch a movie?

After we’d reached this point, Yukinoshita started making more tea. Playing along was her only option now.

…Guess it’s movie time.

In the dark room, with the curtains closed all the way, the only source of illumination was the dim light from the projector. If this had been a real viewing environment, like a movie theater or a home theater, maybe I would’ve been able to focus on the movie and get into the story.

But we were currently in the Service Club room. It was an ordinary place where we spent time basically every day, and this unusual version of it really made me feel anxious more than anything else.

Even worse, the only audio output was the internal laptop speakers, so we all had to scooch in to hear it. The population density was really high.

So I wound up fidgeting and squirming, and with each movement, I’d make contact with someone next to me. There were so many little sounds—fabric against fabric, or the surprised gasp of an unexpected touch, or the ticklish whispers of a private conversation.

That was all that my brain was processing, in the end, and I hardly remembered any of the plot.

I did catch the basic story and the fact that it was actually a foreign TV show. It was kind of like a coming-of-age story at an American high school. All I got was that the athletic types were kinda whoa and that the school hierarchy is brutal over there, too. Frankly, my spirit broke halfway into it, and I stopped paying attention. For the rest of it, I became like an ascetic monk desperately fighting worldly desires.

Just as I was starting to achieve enlightenment, the show finally ended. It played all the way through the surprisingly short credits, and with a click, Isshiki turned off the power on the projector.

“Oooh, that was good!” Yuigahama said as she stood up and opened the curtains to reveal it had become dark outside. When she flicked on the lights, I could see Yukinoshita closing her eyes and nodding in satisfaction.

Seems everyone has quite enjoyed it… My attention was elsewhere, so I only have a vague idea what it was about…

Isshiki, who seemed to be having a real blast with this, started quietly singing as she started to put things away.

“Dancing queen, hm-hm hm-hm-hmmm.”

She was singing the song that had played during a scene I remembered at the end, but she was just humming the last part instead of the lyrics.

But despite my deepest apologies for interrupting her fine mood, there was something I had to ask. When Isshiki’s hands paused in her task, I quickly called out to her, “…Hey, why’d you come to watch a movie here?”

“It wasn’t a movie. It was a TV show.”

“Same thing…” If it’s got Americans being loud in it, then it’s Hollywood. Come on, don’t make me do more work than that. And if they suddenly start dancing, you can call it Bollywood. That’s movies, you know? Although this was a Western drama. When I let out a deep sigh, Isshiki gave me a look of surprise.

“You didn’t like it?”

“Oh, I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed it if I actually watched it, but when you’re just zoning out, the brutally painful scenes leave a stronger impression…” And that goes for not just the scenes I’d gotten a glimpse of. The most brutal thing of all had been being so closely surrounded by girls in a private room…

“So, like, you all are fans of these shows, huh…?” I said.

“Well, of course. It’s genuinely interesting,” Isshiki said as if it was completely obvious.

“Yeah, it was,” Yuigahama followed up. Yukinoshita didn’t say anything, but she was nodding, too.

“Huhhh, I see…” I’ve also seen a little of stuff like 24, Prison Break, and shows like that, and I enjoyed them well enough, but the drama they’d just shown me had occasionally gone full soap opera. Wasn’t that exhausting? “…I dunno. Maybe it’s a girl thing,” I muttered.

The girls got huffy at that. “Not just girls. I think it’s normal for boys to watch this, too…,” said Yuigahama.

“Yeah,” Isshiki agreed. “Actually, it’s better peace of mind for you if she likes shows that most girls do, you know. If it’s the other way, and she says she likes Mad Max or Avengers, it’s absolutely the influence of her boyfriend.”

Now that was something I couldn’t let pass unremarked upon, and I replied, “Huh? Really?”

Then Isshiki gave me a nasty smile. “Well, yeah. Nine times out of ten.”

“Hey, you cut that out. Let a guy be happy to find a girl who likes the same movies as him—don’t ruin it… Some girls like that stuff…”

Source: Miss Hiratsuka. By the way, Miss Hiratsuka’s favorite movies are Tremors, Battleship, and Pacific Rim! When I heard that, I just about fell in love with her.

But you know, the source here is super-untrustworthy. I gave her a questioning glance, like, So what sort of movies does a “normal” girl watch?

She chuckled smugly. “You want to find a girl who says she likes Amélie or that sort of hipster art-film aesthetic!”

And now she’s launched into a lecture… Also, that’s a pretty old choice… Although it is a famous movie and not too hard to find. I guess I get it…?

“Huhhh… By the way, what’s your favorite movie?” I asked.

Ever the sly one, Isshiki put her hands to her cheeks in a coquettishly cutesy-wootsy kind of way. “Amélie.  ”

“Hipster…”

“And I’m not sure that’s even true…,” Yuigahama commented.

Also, an unbelievably basic pick.

Right as I was about to cut in and say just that, Yukinoshita closed her eyes and muttered around her teacup, “…It’s a good movie, though.”

Whoops! Good thing I didn’t say it! Everyone has their own tastes and interests when it comes to movies, so I want to respect that stuff, you know! You never know where you might find a land mine!

But there are people out there who will respectfully walk right over those land mines.

“Ahhh, you would like that, wouldn’t you, Yukinoshita?” said Isshiki.

“…And what exactly do you mean by that?” Yukinoshita’s eyebrows twitched together as she gave Isshiki a cold look. Isshiki shrunk away with a hyerk, hiding behind me like a little squirrel.

Yukinoshita rubbed her temple and sighed in exasperation. “More importantly, why did we suddenly have a screening here?”

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Oh yeah.” I remembered what I’d been about to ask a moment ago, and I turned my upper body toward her.

Then Isshiki clapped her hands as if she’d just remembered, too. “For reference. If I watched it in the student council room, people would think I’m slacking off, right?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good reason to choose to see it here…,” Yukinoshita said.

“Watch it at home. Come on,” I added.

But despite our candid advice, Isshiki just beamed back at us. “But we went to the trouble of buying that projector, so we’d want to try it out, right? And there’s no projector screen in the student council room or at my house. And I have a rule about never working in my off-hours.” Not a shred of guilt. At this rate, she might even buy some chic speakers with the student council funds so she could have herself the whole fancy chic-y set. ’Cause, y’know. She’s Isshiki…

As I was making horrible puns to myself, Yuigahama raised her hand with an ohhh. “Wait, reference material? We were just watching the show like normal, though…”

“The graduation ceremony is coming up, right? And that appreciation-party thing afterward? The student council is in charge of that, so that’s why.”

“Ohhh…” I knew where this conversation was going now. I inched my chair back and braced myself. I am absolutely not going to help with this.

But apparently Isshiki wasn’t even going to ask. She folded her arms with a hmm, deep in thought. “…Well, honestly, we could just have a normal appreciation party—y’know, just set out some tables so it looks legit and chat about whatever—but when I was thinking about when I’m going to graduate, I started thinking maaaaybe we should make this one fancy… Oh, and it would make the graduates happy, too.”

Wow! She remembered the graduates at the end! Irohasu sure has grown, huh?! …was of course not what I was thinking. In fact, it was refreshing how self-centered she was. If anything, I was impressed.

Then from nearby, I heard a similar sound from someone else. Looking over, I saw Yukinoshita nodding and hmming with a know-it-all expression. “I see. The prom.”

“Ohhh, you got it! I knew you’d figure it out, Yukinoshita!” Isshiki praised her and clapped.

“It’s nothing, really. The conversation was obviously headed in that direction.” As calm as she was, I could still detect a hint of pride. And a tiny blush. No resistance…

But anyway, thanks to Yukinoshita’s correct answer, I’d figured out what this was about, too. This was about the prom. …What the heck is a prom?

“Puro? What? Proactiv?” That stuff that works on pimples? I was unfamiliar with the word, but I was asking the wrong person.

Yuigahama turned the question back on me in the same way. “Puromu…like a peach? Momo?”

“Uh, that’s puramu,” I corrected her English. “You like peaches, huh…?”

“Huh? Yeah. They’re great.” Yuigahama gave me a big smile and chuckled.

What the heck? That was so cute. Wait, no. I wanted to know about “proms.” So I looked over at Yukinoshita. Teach me, Miss Yukipedia!

She swished the long hair off her shoulders pridefully and smiled an indomitable smile. “A plum is the same as the Japanese sumomo. They’re both Rosaceae Rosales, but strictly speaking, it’s another species. In fact, you could say that sakuranbo cherries are closer.”

“That’s not what I wanted to know…”

“Huh? Huh? Some momo are sumomo…so some momo and some sumomo are sakuranbo?”

Miss Yuigahama has lost it, huh…? She’s gone bananas…or should I say gone peaches and plums? That was the sort of tongue twister that made me want to say “do it again!” But let’s leave that for another occasion.

“So…what’s a prom?” I asked.

Yukinoshita nodded. “Yes…,” she said, considering her words before she began. “Prom is short for promenade—it’s another word for a ball. I suppose you’d call it…the dance party they have at foreign high schools at the end of the year. You could technically think of it as a fancy graduation party. There was a scene like that in the TV show we just saw, wasn’t there?”

Huhhh…so that really American “Dancing Queen” party scene was that prom thing, huh? I see, I thought, and then I suddenly realized. “Wait. Wasn’t that fiction? Regular people actually do stuff like that?”

“Looks that way. Apparently, it’s pretty normal over there. Ummm…” Isshiki pulled out her phone, tapping and sliding her way through an Internet search. Once she found what she wanted, she shoved her phone at me. “Ta-daa!”

“Ohhh…”

On her screen were scenes of fancy parties, with boys and girls dressed up in lavish dresses and tuxedos. The venues for the event were various—a school gym, a club with a DJ booth, a dance hall, outside, but all of them were similarly elaborate-looking. But none of them even look like high schoolers…

“See? Think of all the engagement this would get on Instagram! I really wanna do it!” Isshiki gushed.

“What a sucky standard to go off of…,” I groaned.

Isshiki was pointing to a photo of women in dresses arriving at a venue in a fancy limousine. As a guy, I get more excited about Gwazines than limousines, you know…

But now was not the time to be thinking about Zeon battleships.

I had an image in my mind of graduation parties, but this prom thing she’d just looked up on her phone was on a whole ’nother scale. And it had a different vibe from the “nighttime pool party” stuff that attracts the loud types. And it didn’t feel very jooshy polly yey, either…

Maybe it was the foreign culture, or maybe it was my own personal tastes and preferences, but this wasn’t quite clicking with me. I couldn’t imagine our school having a prom. “Uhhh, can’t we just have a normal party…? Why a prom…?” I asked.

Sliding her hand across the chest of her pink vest, Isshiki announced with great pleasure, “Eh-heh. Why, you ask? Because I will be the prom queen!”

“Oh…” What the hell is she talking about…? I wondered as I tried asking Professor Google what a “prom queen” was.

Apparently, it was basically like, Let’s all choose the coolest girl in our school or grade! And they also choose one of the boys to be her counterpart, the prom king… “I get it… In our cohort, the prom king would definitely be Hayama…”

“Yeah, I’m sure it would. Hayama is the king, and I am the quee… Ah.” Just as Isshiki was saying that, she noticed the time paradox. She then cleared her throat with an ahem and smiled brightly at me. “By the way, this has nothing to do with that, but you’re not repeating a year or anything, are you?”

“No…”

“Aw, you! You’re going to fail your college entrance exams and have nothing to do for a year anyway, so it’s all the same. In fact, it’s a great deal, since you can still use your student discount.”

“Can you not make assumptions? And that doesn’t make up for it. I’m gonna have a backup school, too, okay? I’ll get in somewhere,” I said flatly.

Isshiki pouted. “Oh, really…” Then her expression did a one-eighty, and with a glint in her eye that said, Well then, I’ve come up with a compromise just for you! she nonchalantly added, “Oh, then how about you help me out with the prom instead?”

And to make it worse, that statement was unfortunately not something I could let slide. “Instead? Instead of what? …And hold on a second. Are you seriously planning to have this prom?”

I was glaring at her to make sure she knew these implications were negative, but Isshiki just replied “Yep” like it was nothing.

You can’t blame me for sighing over this. “We can’t start that now. And I’m not into that stuff. I just don’t want to do it.”

“H-hmm…” Yuigahama smiled awkwardly. “I think it might be fun, though…but maybe we couldn’t manage it.”

“Yes, indeed…” Yukinoshita put a hand to her temple and closed her eyes. All three of us were basically in agreement.

Unsurprisingly, with the other two indicating their disapproval, Isshiki seemed increasingly uncertain. “Ohhh, well, I do get that. But I was thinking it’d be nice… You sure we can’t?” The spirit from before was gone as she squeezed the hem of her blazer, giving me an imploring look up through her lashes. It was manipulative but so powerful. I almost wanted to hear out her request.

But if I failed to say no to her prom ambitions now, I knew I would pay for it later. The guilt was making my throat tight, but I managed to get out a refusal. “It’s more like…honestly, it just feels impossible…for a number of reasons, but… I mean, you get it, right?”

I didn’t think there was a need to bother explaining. Time, funds, personnel, experience, information, and everything else—we were lacking too many things. I shouldn’t have to tell Isshiki that.

I was sure she had her reasons for coming to make this unreasonable request… Well, I guess the realistic line would be to hear her reasons and search for a potential compromise.

As I was making my guesses as to where that compromise might lie, Isshiki hmm’d thoughtfully. “Is that right…? I understand. Then we’ll try doing it just with the student council.”

“Ah, yeah… Huh?” I did a double take.

But this was neither a mishearing on my part nor idle words. Isshiki’s head jerked up, and she glanced at me sharply. She was determined about this.

“…Were you listening to me?” I asked her.

“Yes. So we’ll do it ourselves.” She grinned boldly.

Now that she’d flatly declared it a second time, I couldn’t say any more than that. The usual remark here would be either “Don’t bother” for the negative or “Do your best” for the affirmative, but what came out was mostly air. “O-oh… Uh-huh…”

I wasn’t the only one with their mouth hanging open—Yuigahama was the same. We exchanged looks. When I asked her …What the heck? with my eyes, she shook her head just slightly as if to say, I don’t know… Meanwhile, Yukinoshita’s eyes were closed, so she did not participate in our silent messaging.

Which meant Isshiki was the only one who could tell us the correct answer. I stared her way.

“Uh, can you not look so shocked…? I knew it would be hard. I’ve already braced for you saying no. I’m not that dumb,” Isshiki said with a sniff.

Yuigahama and I were convinced.

“Ohhh,” said Yuigahama, “so you basically came just to give it a potshot?”

“I get it,” I said. “So that’s why you came into negotiation with nothing really prepared.”

Isshiki screwed up her lips and looked away as if she was struggling to find her next sentence. “I—I was thinking watching that TV show together would get you excited about the prom idea, more or less…”

That counts as nothing, you know… But at least she’s being honest.

As I was giving her a soft, lukewarm look, Isshiki cleared her throat with a kephum, kephum. “Well, if you find that you are interested, then please come hang out in the student council room, ’kay? We’ll welcome you with open arms! We won’t let you go home!”

“You’re gonna drain us dry… And, like, you’re actually serious about this prom thing, huh…?”

“Yep.”

Isshiki’s answer remained steadfast—she’d already reached her conclusion. And yet not a single one of the proofs that would be necessary for deriving that conclusion had been validated. This is gonna be a hassle…

As I was wondering what to do with this, Yukinoshita broke in. “Could I ask why it is you want to hold a prom so badly?”

Isshiki’s shoulders twitched with surprise. And from Yukinoshita’s behavior, it looked as if she was both talking to Isshiki and thinking about something else the whole time.

That had to be why Isshiki’s reaction came late. “Ah, um, well, uh, to be prom queen…”

“But that would be in two years, right?” Yukinoshita deftly slid into the empty silence when Isshiki’s words trailed off.

Scratching at her cheek and fiddling with the hair at the back of her neck, Isshiki replied, “Ahhh, um, like, to start laying the groundwork for that now, you know.”

“If you were to hold a prom two years from now, you wouldn’t have to lay any groundwork to be chosen as queen.”

“Uh-huh… Huh?” Isshiki stared at Yukinoshita like she had no idea what she was talking about. Yuigahama and I also exchanged looks.

Yukinoshita breathed a short sigh. “I’m saying there’s no reason you absolutely must do it this year.”

“I mean, I never said absolutely…,” Isshiki hedged, but Yukinoshita totally ignored her. She just leveled a sharp and patient gaze on her, waiting only for the answer to her question.

Isshiki recoiled a bit, but then she came up with her response with a clap of her hands. “Ah, okay. There’s no guarantee I’ll be the student council president again next year, right?! So planning now is my only shot…”

“If you’re interested, you’ll be elected. Not many people run, and even if it does go to a vote, with your ability and accomplishments, you’ll win. I don’t believe it would be a problem to do it next year.” All the words coming out of Yukinoshita’s mouth should have been kind in meaning, but her sharp tone made them sound like an accusation.

Isshiki’s words trailed off in the face of this interrogation. “Well…um…yes, maybe that’s true, but…”

“So then next year, or—”

“We can’t,” Isshiki interrupted.

Despite Yukinoshita’s overpowering force, that one remark of Isshiki’s was unshakable.

Yukinoshita silently asked her intentions.

“…If I say we’re doing a prom next year, it’ll probably never happen. It’s like you guys just said. They’ll say no, it can’t be done, we don’t have enough time, and then it’ll just kinda die… I know it’s hard, and it might even fail, but I have to lay the groundwork for my next move…” As she put the words together, they came out in disjointed bits, then trailed off at the end into a faint, smothered, trembling sound.

I was about to ask if she was okay when her pale hair swished dramatically.

“We have to do it now. If we start now, we might still have time.” Jerking her head up again, she leveled a strong, direct gaze at Yukinoshita.

But Yukinoshita’s expression didn’t change. “…What for? Or who for?” she asked coolly.

Isshiki blinked as if taken by surprise. She seemed to consider a moment, and her lips were slightly open in an innocent sort of way.

But she quickly broke into a fearless grin.

“For me! Duh!” Iroha Isshiki declared, loud and proud, with a hand to her chest and an arch in her back.

Of course. Whether what she’d just said was true or whether it was all a pack of lies to hide something, I had to commend her for her sense of commitment. Asking for her reasons at this point would just be crass.

Yukinoshita seemed surprised, too, as she blinked her eyes a bunch, but that eventually turned to a smile. “I see. Thank you for answering.” The emotion was genuine, as if that was what she’d wanted to hear from the bottom of her heart. Maybe she had asked out of pure interest. What Yukinoshita said next was so smooth, so perfectly planned, that I guessed that might have been the case.

“Then, let’s do it.”

“What? Huh? You’re actually okay with it? Aw geez! I love you, Yukinoshita! But hey, what was all that about, then? You kinda freaked me out and it’d be great if you could never do that again,” Isshiki said as she trotted over to Yukinoshita and glomped her with a little squeal.

Apparently quite grumpy about this, Yukinoshita peeled Isshiki away with a quiet and cold “Hey…”

Watching this heartwarming scene, Yuigahama and I sighed at practically the same time.

“Well, once the higher-ups have come to a decision, then there’s nothing I can do. Guess it’s work time…,” I grumbled to myself.

“…Uh-huh, yeah.” Yuigahama nodded back with a slightly crooked smile.

Well, the Service Club’s plan had been decided. If a task had been generated, then we had to deal with it.

As I was lightly stretching and rotating my shoulders, Yukinoshita called to us with some reservation. “…Um, do you have a moment?”

“Hmm?”

As Yuigahama and I lent our ears, Yukinoshita straightened in her seat with a bit of nervousness. “What I just said was my own intention as an individual, so I won’t force you two.”

When I stared into her eyes to ask what the darn heck this was about, Yukinoshita took a breath in and out and straightened her back.

“Essentially, um…that’s not a decision as club captain. I don’t believe I have authority there. So you need not consider this an official club project. Of course, I would be grateful if you’d offer your help. However, I intend to take responsibility for making this prom happen, even if it’s on my own. I mean, um…” As Yukinoshita approached the end of her speech, she got quieter and quieter, and her words gradually became vaguer, too. I think she wasn’t sure how to communicate it herself. Her hands squeezed her skirt, her head hanging as she bit her lip; she seemed to be struggling to find the words to say.

Her words were a little unclear, and for a moment, I started to tilt my head. But I could remember another incident involving some strained logic. Iroha Isshiki probably sensed that, too.

However, this was slightly broader than the weak logic from back then.

“Basically, you mean club attendance is voluntary?” I said.

Yukinoshita glanced at me and hesitantly started opening her mouth.

But before she could speak, someone else said kindly, “That’s not it, Hikki.”

It sounded like Yuigahama was pointing out my mistake, but there was nothing accusatory, cautioning, or chiding about her tone. Her voice was like a feather fluttering down, and I looked at Yuigahama. She gave a little shake of her head. She dropped her gaze to the desk and let out a faint breath.

After the slightest pause, she smiled gently at Yukinoshita. “Yukinon…you want to try doing it on your own, right?” she asked, and Yukinoshita nodded instantly.

Ohhh, I get it. That made sense, and it was like something stuck in my chest came undone. That really hadn’t been it. I’d been wrong.

I always throw so many words on top of each other, wrapping them up in layers and layers, and the result is that I never say the important things. And with just one gentle remark, she had guessed it right.

Yukinoshita’s lips trembled, and she sucked in a delicate breath. “And…Isshiki feels that now is our only chance to do it. That if we start now, maybe we’ll have enough time… I think I feel the same.”

Isshiki was staring in stunned silence at Yukinoshita’s profile. I think Yuigahama was probably the only one who was calm. She was always the only one who was really listening attentively to Yukinoshita.

“So I want to properly begin,” Yukinoshita continued. “…And I’d be glad if you could see me do it.”

“Okay. Then I won’t say anything. But promise me.” Yuigahama stuck up her pinkie and held it out. Yukinoshita’s hand only came halfway to meet it, hovering in confusion.

But Yuigahama waited patiently for Yukinoshita to finish the timid approach, and the two fingers wrapped together. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Seriously, don’t. And if you need the help, make sure to call for me. Maybe this one isn’t a Service Club project, but we’re still friends. Times like these, I want to help for real…”

“Yes, I promise… Thank you.”

When they sealed their pinkie oath, Yuigahama suddenly broke into her usual bright smile with its hint of childlike innocence. “Mm, good. Then I’m okay. What about you, Hikki?” she asked me in a clear voice like a tinkling bell.

But I couldn’t respond right away.

“Ahhh…” My reply was barely more than an exhalation; it wasn’t even clear what I was replying to.

Yukinoshita seemed anxious. “…Am I making a mistake?”

“…No. I think it’s fine. Not like I’d know.”

“Always with the lazy responses.” Yukinoshita smiled.

There was a smile in my voice, too. I’d finally understood what I had seen in that beautiful bow. What those circuitous words had been trying to say. No wonder it had given me a sense of déjà vu. And of course it had made sense to me. I’d already gotten a taste of that loneliness and relief.

“…I see. I think I get it,” Isshiki muttered. She seemed slightly tired, and there was a weight to her sigh.

Yukinoshita must have picked up on that, as she said meekly, “Um, I’m sorry… I hope you don’t mind. It makes sense to worry if I’m the only one helping…” Yukinoshita bowed her head.

But Isshiki smiled brightly back at her. “Oh, no, I’m not really worried about that, so it’s okay.” She hopped to her feet, took a step toward Yukinoshita, and bent to the side to make their eyes level. “Could you come to the student council room starting tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Right. Me too, Yukino!” Isshiki made a joking salute, then with a hup took her things in her arms and spun around.

Yukinoshita was nonplussed by that last part, but Isshiki ignored that and strode off.

Then right before closing the door, she waved back with a “Bye!” and left the clubroom.

After watching her go, only the three of us remained. It was late; normally, we would have gone home by now. We really had to get going.

Yukinoshita must have checked the clock as well, as she muttered, “…We should head out.” Yuigahama and I nodded back at her, and we quickly got ready to go. Yuigahama folded up the blanket that had been over their laps and carried it under her arm as she left the clubroom. I went out into the hallway as well, and Yukinoshita followed after.

In the darkness of night filling the school building, the hallway was piercingly cold—that threshold was like a gate to another world. But the cold on my skin told me just how comfortable the clubroom was.

Since we weren’t taking this on as a job, I wouldn’t be coming there tomorrow or the days after that. The thought made me a little reluctant to part.

But this was just what independence was. Just like Komachi’s peaceful weaning off her big brother—it left me both lonely and proud. This was something to be celebrated.

As if tucking away something important, the door locked with a click.

Only she ever carried that key, and I had never once touched it.