Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 9 - Chapter 1

1

Once again, Iroha Isshiki knocks on the door.

…What an idiot.

No one but me could hear my silent grumble as I took a seat in the classroom, right before the start of class.

The writing on a letter tucked sneakily into my bag was familiar. It seemed my little sister, Komachi, had written this for me.

On this adorable letter paper decorated with glitter, sparkling like snow, in Christmas-associated colors was a wish list that was as uncute as you could get.

Well, the last part was probably her real point: to buy detergent on my way home. This is one of those “Komachi jokes”…right? If not, it wouldn’t be a list of things so easily converted into cash, right? Yikes, my sister is so scary!

Anyway, ignoring the first three things on that list, I’d make sure to buy some detergent on the way home.

But while I could ignore the earlier items, what was written after that stuck in my heart.

—My happiness.

Just what the hell is that?

What is happiness, after all…? A home with good soy sauce? Wait—then I’ve already got that! I’m glad I was born in Chiba! Chiba’s soy sauce is number oooone in Japaaaan! (In production volume, at least.)

Oh man, that was close. If I hadn’t been born in Chiba, that question might have led me down a less pleasant train of thought. Thank you, Kikkoman. Which reminds me, I wonder what the kikko in Kikkoman is. “Eternally seventeen years old”? Come on.

If I didn’t crack jokes like that (with a bit of regional pride thrown in), I’d be too embarrassed to look straight at Komachi’s note. She must have felt the same way, which was why she’d gone to the trouble of tacking it on as an apparent afterthought. We’re very similar siblings.

But since she’d given this letter to me, it seemed she had worries of her own.

Komachi had also been involved with the string of events connected to the student council election not long ago. Or rather, I’d asked her to help out.

I still don’t know whether that was a good idea.

Perhaps out of consideration for my feelings, Komachi never asked me in detail about how things had turned out in the end, and, well, even if she did try to give me the third degree, I couldn’t explain it well anyway. I’d just end up grumpy. And I really, really didn’t want that to lead to another fight.

Komachi understood that, and I think that’s exactly why she was using such an indirect method of showing her concern. She really is a mature little sister.

Since my little sister wished for it, I would have liked to give her the moon and the stars and all the other Sailor Scouts, but unfortunately, I didn’t have the money. In fact, I didn’t even have a way to grant Komachi’s joking request.

Hachiman Hikigaya’s happiness, Hachiman Hikigaya’s wish, Hachiman Hikigaya’s desire—I’ve never sat down and thought about it before.

What is happiness to me? What do I want? I have no clue.

If it’s possible for me to wish for something, as Komachi has wished for me… If someone would actually hear a wish like that… If a wish like that would be allowed…

Then I…

…I’d wish for Komachi’s happiness! I’d wish for the fortune of my pretty, cure-cure lovely honey princess and do a happiness charge!

But because she was my adorable little sister, I had to avoid causing trouble for her, especially now. She was studying for her entrance exams.

I didn’t want to make her worry unnecessarily or rob her of her time at this important juncture.

Leaving all that stuff about my happiness aside for the time being, I folded up the letter and tucked it into my uniform pocket. The note almost felt warm. Oh man, I like Komachi too much, don’t I? It’s okay; I’m in the clear because she’s my sister. No, wait, that actually makes it less acceptable…

Because grinning at a letter from my little sister would be a pretty weird thing to do, I stretched my back and adjusted my collar. You know, I really have to protect my aloof image. But just so you know, even if you intend to be aloof, often others will just see you as a miserable person, so you need to be careful (speaking from experience).

While I was killing time rereading Komachi’s note, morning homeroom was closely approaching. My classmates were rushing into the room.

As this was going on, I happened to see a girl walking toward me in a particularly languid manner, as if she didn’t give a damn about the bell. Her bluish-black hair swayed with each stride.

Kawa-something… No, was it Yama-something? Or was it Toyo-something? Well, Something-kawatoyo is fine. Kawa-something headed for her own seat as if she were completely uninterested in the rest of the classroom. On her way, her cool, composed gaze collided with mine.

We made wordless eye contact for a while, and then, for some reason, we both froze up.

It wasn’t as if we didn’t know each other, so I figured I’d say hi, at least—even if I didn’t know her name. She also had helped out in that recent student council election. And I hadn’t said thanks for that. I knew I should say something, but I couldn’t figure out the right way to do it.

“Uh…so, like…” In the attempt to start a conversation, I breathed out some air and some equally meaningless words.

She must have thought she had to say something, too, and her lips moved uncomfortably until finally settling on a quiet “…Morning.” She was scowling.

“Y-yeah,” I replied to her greeting.

That weak start meant I could hardly get any words out, and no further conversation developed. She strode off quickly to her own seat at the back by the window.

Well, that moment of silence had made things awkward. Times like that, it’s best to flee. And since I’d been sitting in my own seat, she should be the one to act.

Either from a lack of sleep or a lack of energy, as soon as Kawa-something took her seat, she flopped down face-first on her desk, and as I watched her, I calmly thought back on the exchange we’d just had.

…Whoa there, for real? Kawa-something came to say hi to me, when both of us hardly remember each other’s names. That’s some serious progress, huh?

Still, even elementary school kids can manage a greeting. In fact, they’re even taught to go out of their way to greet suspicious individuals. Looking at it that way, I suddenly have a theory that she came to greet me as a preemptive attack against a creep! It’s sorta like that thing where someone goes, What the hell are you lookin’ at? Which middle school are ya from, huh, punk?

Well, it’s a given that someone would want to fire a jab at any creep who would be smiling at a letter from his little sister. But hold on there—if my memory serves me right, I get the feeling she has also smiled over a text from her little brother, Taishi Kawasaki. Oh, right! That’s her name. Kawasaki.

…Oh man, what the heck; she’s a creep! From now on, I’ll go say hello to her, too, to keep her at bay.

Greetings are really important.

Building a surveillance society through greetings! (This week’s slogan.)

This world where greetings are not to be feared at all, much less a hello from a girl who might trick you into believing she actually likes you—it’s poison.

Since I was already watching Kawasaki, I scanned the rest of the classroom, too, chin resting on my hands.

There was no clear change in my classmates, but the scenery around us had transformed slightly. Winter coats and scarves were stuffed into the lockers at the back, and someone had even placed an electric kettle there. Most of the girls had blankets draped over their knees, covering their legs.

But there was one girl in the class who was much more liberal about exposing them: Yumiko Miura.

Twisting a loose curl of her golden hair around her finger, she leisurely folded her long, slender legs the other way. It made the hem of her short skirt flutter.

With real effort, I restrained the thoughtless downward tug of my eyes, controlling myself so her skin only barely entered my field of vision. Wait, that’s not self-control; I did see them. Oh, but hold on a minute! She let her guard down, sitting that way, so the view is just…, I thought but then noticed something kind of like smoke wafting around Miura. What is this, censor steam? Are they going to make sure to remove it on the Blu-ray?

I never usually open my eyes all the way to begin with, but I was thinking maybe if I narrowed them even more, I could get a glimpse of something (something pink), when I discovered the tiny device that was spitting out that smoke. Oh, is that the humidifier Yuigahama mentioned? It was indeed puffing. It was kind of like the fog you get when an enemy character shows up.

Miura reigned like a queen that day as usual, her handmaidens Yuigahama and Ebina ever at her side.

“Yumiko, aren’t you cold?” Ebina asked with concern.

Miura brushed aside the golden hair she’d been twirling and smiled, full of confidence. “Not really? This is normal.” But despite her bravado, Miura sneezed a little choo! At her embarrassed expression, Yuigahama and Ebina gave warm little smiles.

Uh-huh, I’m kinda getting warm feelings, too.

Contrasted with Miura and her bare-legged appeal, Ebina and Yuigahama wore their gym pants underneath their skirts. Hey, that’s no fun for the viewers! Cut it out, come on.

…Wait, but hold on a minute. When you consider how only high school girls wear things like that, I kinda start to think it’s fine, for what it is. The mysterious ensemble that arises from the mismatched combination of a short skirt with incredibly lame gym pants—isn’t it that very secrecy that lets the wings of imagination soar on the brilliance of what lies deep within? You’re all my wings! You can’t underestimate the power of a boy’s imagination!

But the nearby boys must not have been interested in things of that nature; they didn’t even look at the girls’ gym pants. Sheesh, my generation is so lacking in imagination; it’s terrible. Well, I’m not saying to force yourself to stare, so it is what it is.

But when I observed them closely, I thought a lack of imagination wasn’t the reason they didn’t take notice.

I don’t know if I could call this proof of that, but Tobe was brushing up and tugging on the overlong hair at the back of his neck as he anxiously rocked back and forth. With each movement, his gaze flicked around the group. He struck me as rather uncomfortable.

He looked at Hayama, he looked at the girls, and then he looked back toward Ooka and Yamato.

“Man, it’s cold as hell lately,” Tobe said.

“For sure,” Yamato responded with a nod, while Ooka sighed dramatically.

“Going to practice on a day like this is, like, not a thing, man.”

“Yeah, that’s a thing, huh, man?”

Is it a thing, or isn’t it…? If it means exactly the same thing to exist or not, I’m gonna have to think the world really is guided by the Law of Cycles.

With a frivolous smile and going, “Like, right?” as if seeking agreement, he turned to Hayama and the girls.

Aside from a little smile, Hayama offered no particular reply.

Miura must have witnessed that exchange, but she merely glanced over at Hayama and said nothing.

From a distance, Hayama’s clique might not have seemed all that different from normal. In fact, if I had overlooked this exchange, I’d have thought the same.

But there was a definite divide there.

They were all together, but they were not actually interacting.

I finally realized it wasn’t that Tobe and the guys were completely ignoring the girls. It was because they were paying attention that they were trying not to look.

On the very surface, their relationship was the same as always, but it was nevertheless clearly different.

This was probably because there was a strange sense of distance between the two who should have been in the middle, the master pieces, Hayama and Miura. If there was a divide between the main boy and the main girl, then obviously, a gap would emerge between both parties.

Nobody said that out loud.

But the act of not putting it into words spoke volumes of the distance between them and pushed them further apart in the process.

Did something happen between them? It’s not like Miura’s ignoring Tobe because she hates him, right? Aw, what the heck, poor guy! Just like me!

I don’t think Tobe was the cause. Miura had the double date from the other day on her mind. Most people would figure that since this was Hayama, it’d be nothing for him to hang out with girls from other schools, but it seemed she perceived the situation a little differently.

With Hayama, you don’t expect to hear gossip about him fooling around with other girls, for sure. In fact, I think he keeps girls he doesn’t know well at arm’s length.

Perhaps that was exactly why Miura was upset about having seen him with other girls with her own eyes.

Miura and I probably see different people in Hayama. So that means the Hayama she knows is not someone who does things like that.

…Oh, I kinda feel bad. After all, it was my fault Hayama was with those other girls, and it was his involvement with me that was giving Miura this weird anxiety. But she had involved herself and meddled, so I didn’t feel like all of this was on me. Then again, it’s not as if Miura had done something bad, either… I’d also seen her (pink) panties recently, which accelerated my apologetic feelings toward her.

When Miura isn’t cheery, the mood with their whole clique really sours. But Miura wasn’t the only one who was off.

Yuigahama was also acting a bit different from usual. She listened with a silent smile to Tobe chatting with the other guys, and she also played a passive role in Miura and Ebina’s discussion while skillfully prompting them to continue.

She was different from how she was in the clubroom.

She wasn’t the one who felt the need to talk, and she wasn’t trying to jumpstart a conversation, either. Most noticeably, she wasn’t spending lots of time trying to draw out reactions and emotions from others.

Perhaps right now, Yuigahama felt more peace of mind being with this group. I’m sure the clubroom was no longer a relaxing place for her to be.

That fact was a heavy weight on my chest.

Their group’s conversation was starting to flounder, but Tobe chafed at the silence, exhaling a voiceless breath that continued into words. “…So, like. It’s so cold lately. Literally freezing!”

Tobe! That’s the same thing! You brought up the exact same thing as before! Even if weather is the number one thing to bring up when you don’t know what to talk about, you really are overusing it… It’s like, Gondo, Gondo, rain Gondo!

Ooka and Yamato reacted similarly to last time.

“Well, it is winter now.”

“Right?”

The guys’ conversation was so similar, it went beyond preestablished harmony and made me wonder if the world was in a time loop. But this time, Tobe was going to switch things up. Well, not like I really know how he is normally. Sorry, I don’t really give a damn about Tobe, okay?

“Hey, what’re you doing for Christmas and stuff?”

Why is he talking to Hayama but pointing his ears at Ebina?

Ebina picked up on this, I think, and took the initiative. “I’ll be busy getting ready for the year end.”

Oh, of course. There is that winter festival held around Ariake.

That made sense to me, so I was nodding to myself when Miura twitched, showing a spark of interest in something. Her hand finally stopped playing with her hair. “Christmas, huh…? Ebina’s got that thing, but…what about all you guys?” As she spoke, her gaze flicked over to Hayama, then immediately disengaged again. She was restless, squeezing and then smoothing the hem of her skirt underneath her desk. There may have been a faint blush (pink) on her cheeks, too.

Ohhh, nice! You can do it, Miura! …Why am I finding myself cheering for Miss Queen? Oh, I’m not cheering for Tobe, though.

But my support was in vain. Hayama tilted his head slightly. “I’m kinda busy, too…”

“Huh?” Miura must not have expected that answer. “H-Hayato… Y-you have some kind of plans?” she asked, stuttering a little.

“Hmm? …Yeah, family business,” Hayama replied, and his smile then was his usual warm one, not the listless one he’d been wearing earlier in the conversation.

“H-huh…” Miura looked away from him and pretended not to care, but her hand started fiddling with her hair again. Her fidgeting meant she obviously wanted to ask something, but she never managed it.

Once the two of them were done talking, the boys and the girls were divided again. Their topics of conversation naturally diverged as the boys chattered animatedly about what their club was doing over the winter vacation, while the girls’ topic shifted to Christmas shopping.

It seemed Tobe was unwilling to let the discussion go that way, as he aggressively brushed up his hair, then stuck up a finger and swept his gaze over all of them. “S-so then, like—! The first shrine visit of the year or something?”

Tobe seemed to be doing his best to return to the last topic of discussion. Hayama had once said Tobe was good at setting an upbeat mood, and he wasn’t kidding… Though Tobe seems empty-headed, he’s surprisingly attentive to others. Or maybe he instinctively sensed it would be bad for the chasm there to widen any further. Maybe he’s so sensitive because he subsists purely on vibe and mood.

“Hmm, I think I’ll be spending New Year’s with my family, though…” Ebina smoothly avoided Tobe’s efforts yet again.

His shoulders slumped.

But then she put her finger to her cheek and considered with a hmm. “But even if it’s not on the day of…it’d be nice for all of us to hang out,” she continued, emphasizing the all of us part.

Miura’s face jerked up. “Oh, that doesn’t sound half-bad.”

“Uh-huh, yeah!” Yuigahama agreed, and Yamato and Ooka nodded in response.

Tobe looked around at all their faces, (“Right, right?”) and Hayama broke into a broad smile at his efforts.

“…Yeah.”

“S-see?!” exclaimed Tobe. “Okay-okay-okay, so like, when? Oh, Hayato, when are you free? I’m always free, BT-dubs.”

“We have soccer practice…” Hayama sighed with exasperation.

Miura nonchalantly interjected. “So when should we hang out, then? …It doesn’t matter to me.” She talked like she was disinterested, but there was something restless about the way she held her hand up under the fluorescent lights, examining her artificial nails. Confirming their perfection, she chuckled to herself.

Ebina’s eyes were kind as she watched Miura.

Finally, their conversation was as warm as it was before. It brought a relieved breath out of Yuigahama. “Oh, sorry, I’ll be right back.” She gave notice to her friends before she left them.

Oh, so is she going to pick flowers? I wonder what this euphemism would be for boys? Maybe it’d be cool to say he’s going to go shoot deer for a bit.

Or so I was thinking, but it seemed it was nothing of that sort. Yuigahama went to her locker at the back and rummaged around for something. Then, rather than going back to her friends, for some reason, she came over to me.

“Hikki.” Hearing my name, I turned to look up at Yuigahama. She fidgeted a little, twisting around awkwardly. She seemed to be having a hard time telling me whatever she was trying to say as she opened her mouth. “You’ve been staring too much…”

“Huh? Uh, I haven’t really been looking, though…,” I replied falteringly. It was true I’d been staring right at them, but it was awkward to hear it directly from her.

Sensing an incoming excuse, Yuigahama waved her hands aggressively and cut me off in exasperation. “No, no, you were definitely watching. When I glanced over, you were staring so hard, I was honestly like, whoa.”

What does she mean, like, whoa? That sounds mean. “Hey. Then you stop staring, too.”

“What?! No, but it was, like, y-you know? I could just feel it! Like a pressure, or chills…”

Those two things are pretty different, though; are you okay with that…?

After she frantically offered an excuse of her own, anxiously flailing her hands around, she added, “Wait, why’ve you been watching us, Hikki? Did you need something?”

Though her question seemed innocuous, it bothered me more than I expected. Why had I been watching them? “…Uh, not really…… Well, you guys tend to be the center of attention, so it just happens.”

“Hmph…”

I wasn’t sure from Yuigahama’s response if that convinced her or not. But I wasn’t really lying. Hayama’s clique did draw attention. And conspicuous things will naturally be seen. So it wasn’t strange for them to catch my eye.

But I was sure that wasn’t the only reason I’d been looking.

How do you smooth over something that’s come peeling off? I had the feeling Hayama’s clique would teach me.

Perhaps the deepest level of human observation is not passively watching others but actively observing them, rendering yourself in their position and reflecting on yourself.

I think I’d been watching them because I knew they had relationships I thought of as phony pageantry, and I’d been projecting my current situation onto it.

Maybe Tobe had been acting unconsciously on his sense of the disturbance among his clique, but I think Ebina was consciously trying to close the rift between them.

It seemed to me that Miura, Hayama, Tobe, and Ebina were all, bit by bit, comparing and adjusting the small ways they’d become estranged and their minor feelings of unease, searching for the points they might compromise on so they would all be satisfied, making their own sorts of modifications in the way things ought to be.

That’s one way to do it.

Even they can be doubtful about the way they communicate, fumbling around in the dark.

Between them and us, who are the real phonies?

“Hikki?” As I started getting lost in my thoughts, Yuigahama’s voice pulled me back. When I raised my head, I saw her examining me with some worry. I hadn’t even noticed her face draw close, and her dewy eyes and warm breath felt terribly sharp and real.

I jerked away, falling into the back of my chair. I had to avoid showing anything that would make her feel uneasy. The Service Club’s current state was clearly upsetting her, and I was the cause. I owed it to her to conduct myself properly at the very least.

I abandoned those thoughts for the moment; that was an issue to consider when I was alone. Fortunately, I’m drowning in time for that. Times like these, it really is convenient that I’m a loner.

I decided to quickly change the topic. “Anyway, if you don’t want people looking, then talk a little quieter. I mean, I think about forty percent of the looks you guys get are people glaring at you for being loud.”

“Urk, maybe… But with Tobecchi around, that’s not gonna happen.”

That’s a mean thing to say. It’s true Tobe is loud and obnoxious, but he has positive traits, too—like how the roots of his hair seem healthy.

No, but even when someone isn’t loud, your eyes will just travel over there sometimes. For example, at that moment, even as I was talking to Yuigahama, my eyes were moving on their own.

It’s just— Look, when there’s something moving in your field of vision, it just gets your attention, you know? And that goes all the more when it’s someone cute.

Maybe that was why the moment the door at the front of the classroom opened, my eyes were pulled over there.

Saika Totsuka walked in, wearing his gym uniform with the long sleeves and long pants. He sighed in relief when he stepped through the door; I bet the hallway was quite chilly. I automatically inhaled with a moan, too. Ohh, the air Totsuka breathed out is coming into me… Yeah, that’s really creepy, if I do say so myself.

Noticing me and Yuigahama, Totsuka trotted up to us. “Morning.” His charming greeting came with a smile like a flower unfurling its petals. Greetings really are important… I think it’s very sad to greet people for reasons like preventing crime and stuff, uh-huh.

“Morning, Sai-chan.”

“Yeah, morning.”

When Yuigahama and I returned the greeting, Totsuka blinky-blinked his cute little eyes. He’s so cute… Oh, wait, no. Why is he a little cutely surprised? I should have been the one surprised, there—by his cuteness.

“Totsuka, is something up?” I asked, as if to say, Did I say something funny?

Noticing that, Totsuka waved a little hand in front of his chest in an attempt to smooth it over. “I just kind of thought it was unusual to see the two of you, like, together in the classroom.”

“O-oh?” Yuigahama replied, sounding a little startled.

Anxious about her reaction, Totsuka added in a bit of a rush, “Oh, I simply never had that impression of you before.”

Now that he said it, I realized it was true. Yuigahama didn’t talk to me in the classroom very often.

And that made me realize that when she’d gone to her locker, she hadn’t taken anything out of it, had she? If she’d suddenly come over to talk to me, people would have thought something was up, so she’d probably taken her little detour to avoid that. Yuigahama’s always been thoughtful like that, I guess…

But despite the care she’d taken, if someone with an eye for it were to see, they’d notice it was unnatural.

“…Did something happen?” Totsuka asked, shifting his gaze from me to Yuigahama with concern.

“Oh, nothing at all! …W-well, we were just talking a bit about the club, I guess,” Yuigahama equivocated, sounding flustered.

“Oh, the club, huh?” Totsuka clapped his hands as if that made sense to him. Yes, such guileless trust is indeed a virtue. When you’re as pure and innocent as Totsuka, anyone trying to deceive you might well die from the pangs of conscience.

“Well, it’s good if the club is up and running again like before,” Totsuka said with a smile, and I think he honestly didn’t mean anything by it. He’d been involved in whole hullabaloo with the student council election as well. Any outsider looking at me and Yuigahama talking about the club would figure it was proof everything had gone well.

But Yuigahama’s expression was stiff. “Y-yeah…” She was stuck for a moment before immediately smiling to cover it up. “Oh, I know! If you need anything, Sai-chan, you should come visit!”

I nodded in response. “…Yeah.”

I wasn’t sure if I could say it was like before or not. There was some proper conversation going on between us and Yukinoshita, and there was no hostility among us. We weren’t ignoring one another, and we weren’t having clashes of opinions, either.

Nothing had happened.

So there was nothing. That was all.

When our exchange resulted in a strange silence, Totsuka tilted his head and gave us a questioning look. I could tell he wanted to ask if something had happened. But I doubted I could explain it well, so I decided to quickly change the direction of the conversation. “Anyway, well, you know, you could actually come by even if you don’t need anything! You’re always welcome!”

“Someone’s more enthusiastic than usual!” Yuigahama’s eyes widened in shock.

Oh, do I seem so unenthusiastic, normally…?

“Ah-ha-ha. Yeah, I will, if I ever need anything.” Totsuka smiled cheerfully and then glanced over at the clock. It was nearly time for the homeroom teacher to walk in. “Looks like homeroom is about to start,” he said.

“Yeah, looks like. So…” Yuigahama left my desk with Totsuka. Just before she went to her seat, she spun around and leaned close to my ear. “…Oh yeah, Hikki.”

A floral scent wafted around her, and her breath was soft on my ear. Her unexpected approach made me remember the warmth in the cold clubroom that time after school at dusk, when I’d felt as if something was ending.

My heart suddenly jumped.

Her tone cautious, she whispered, “…Let’s go to club together.”

Without waiting for my reply, Yuigahama rushed off to her own seat. As I watched her go, I didn’t even realize I was pressing my chest.

My heart was no longer jumping. In fact, it felt like it had jumped inward instead and was trying to strangle me.

Yuigahama must have chosen to say that because she was finding it difficult to go to the clubroom.

I felt the same way. I couldn’t bring myself to want to go there.

Going there every day without fail nevertheless was masochistic, somehow. I’m sure none of us wanted to go.

But we went anyway because we didn’t want to acknowledge this feeling. We couldn’t acknowledge the scale of what had been lost.

Or were we just going through the motions purely out of a sense of duty, out of sheer obligation, believing this should be maintained, that it should be preserved like some kind of endangered species—or perhaps we just wanted to preserve ourselves.

Lately, our time had been spent trying not to run away—nothing more.

As if we were mourning a dead person.

We didn’t want to make what had been lost into an excuse. We didn’t want to avoid giving in to the unfairness of it, to avoid acknowledging it. This was why we pushed ourselves above and beyond, acting as if it were no different from usual.

I knew it was fake.

But I was the one who had made that choice.

I wasn’t allowed to make a new choice. Time is always irreversible, and often enough, it’s impossible to undo what’s been done. Mourning that would be a betrayal of myself in the past.

Regret is the proof that what you had was worth something. That’s why I don’t mourn. I’d attained something that was fundamentally impossible to obtain. That fact alone should satisfy me.

Once you get used to luck and fortune, they’re just mundane. I think unhappiness is what you feel when that ends.

So if I took it for granted that I would get nothing in the future, too, that alone would benefit my life.

I don’t want to deny who I once was, at least.

I think that’s how my days will be spent, from now on.

As usual, I couldn’t concentrate in class, and then it was over. As afterschool activities began, I got ready to leave the classroom right away. As I was opening the door to the hallway, I glanced over at Yuigahama. She was still chatting with Miura and Ebina.

Well, since she’d asked me to go with her, I figured I should wait. But still, there was no need to bother waiting in a way others would notice.

Leaving the classroom, I walked a few steps before leaning against the wall.

In less than a minute, Yuigahama leaped out of the classroom, looking panicked. She anxiously looked all around and found me immediately, then marched over in an angry huff. “Why’d you leave without me?!”

“I didn’t. I’m here, waiting.”

“Yeah, but…! Huh? Then I guess it’s okay.” She convinced herself, then took a breath, and as if injecting a burst of cheer into herself, she heaved her backpack higher on her shoulder. “…Then let’s go.”

“Uh-huh.”

In the hallway, our eyes met, and then we started walking for the special-use building.

It struck me that this exchange of looks was exactly like those of accomplices in crime.

I endeavored to walk more slower than usual. At my usual pace, I’m sure I’d leave her behind.

Unlike the classroom where we’d been before, this hallway was chilly.

No one passed by, and the only sound was our footsteps as we walked in silence. Yuigahama had been so talkative in the classroom, but now she was quiet. Almost purposefully so.

But as we approached the clubroom, she must not have been able to stand the silence anymore. She opened her mouth. “Hey…”

“Hmm?” I asked back.

But she weakly shook her head. “…Nothing.”

“Oh,” I replied, and silence fell once more. Once we turned the next corner, we’d be in the clubroom. I hadn’t been in the clubroom for a whole day, but what about her? I’d thought she’d been eating lunch with Yukinoshita in the clubroom, before. Suddenly curious, I asked, “So anyway, what have you been doing for lunch?”

After a bit of consideration, she smiled and awkwardly said, “Huh? Hmm, same as before.”

“…Oh.”

That was enough to convince me. I’m sure all their discussion was rambling and incoherent. Yuigahama would say something to Yukinoshita, and she’d respond, and they’d continue back and forth in that manner the whole time.

If you think about it, that was the same as before, but in form only. It would explain why Yuigahama had struggled to reply.

We spent the same time in the same place with the same people, but it still just didn’t feel the same.

I’d been searching for the mistake that had stayed with us all this time, since that day. And still unable to find that answer, my hand touched the door.

It was already unlocked.

I’d actually left the classroom the moment homeroom had ended, but it seemed the master of this clubroom had arrived here before us.

Opening the door, I stepped in and gazed around; the clubroom was unpleasantly empty. Had this clubroom always been so devoid of anything? The desks and chairs and the tea set that was no longer being used were there, unchanged.

And Yukino Yukinoshita was there, same as always.

“Hello.”

“Yahallo! Yukinon!” Yuigahama cheerfully greeted her in return, then sat down in her usual seat. I responded with a casual bow as well and took my own seat. The chairs that never moved were like nails pinning us to this place.

Yukinoshita was also sitting in her chair as she resumed her reading in her proper posture as usual. Yuigahama pulled out her cell phone, while I took a paperback out from my bag.

These actions had been ritualized, like the steps of a ceremony. Maybe we were thinking if we did the same things as before, we could re-create the past. But that was impossible, no matter how we tried to fulfill the activation conditions. We were just skimming the surface; eventually, it would all wear down.

The sigh didn’t leave me.

“That reminds me—so today, Sai-chan was like…” Yuigahama’s mouth popped open. She spoke like a young child earnestly telling her mother about what had happened that day. But that wasn’t it, either. She was firing off words one after another in an attempt to do something about the languishing atmosphere.

It was like a carbon copy of how she used to be, always adapting herself to the social situation, unable to say the things she really wanted to say.

I was aware of this, but I joined in on the discussion she’d started anyway.

Over and over, we had these little conversations. How long would this go on? How long would we be able to continue like this? If we no longer could, then what would happen?

I was sure we’d wind up spending that day the same as the day before.

And most likely the day after that, and after that.

In this closed world was not peace but obstacles and stagnation. Any remaining paths would merely decay and rot away.

Yuigahama must have exhausted the topics she’d come up with, because the conversation stopped. The silence spread, deafening.

That was when, as if tearing through the silence and the obstacles in our way, there was a knock on the door.

The knock came again.

It was the first visitor in a while, making us look at one another automatically. I don’t know what the two of them thought about this visit. Yuigahama jerked up and looked toward the door, while Yukinoshita’s expression did not change. As for me, I started biting my lip without realizing it.

“Come in,” Yukinoshita called out with a glance at the door. When the answer finally came, the door opened.

“Hiii therrre…” A girl came in, golden hair swaying as she covered her face with the overlong sleeves of her cardigan.

It was Soubu High School’s student council president, Iroha Isshiki. Even now that she was president, she was still wearing her uniform somewhat casually.

Yuigahama seemed surprised to see Isshiki show up, while Yukinoshita quietly knit her eyebrows. I probably looked exasperated. What’s she here for, first thing after her election? It doesn’t look like she’s come to hang out, though…

Isshiki took no notice of our misgivings, calling out in a cutely needy voice you could describe as almost woeful as she approached me. Then she started whining like she was on the verge of tears in a deliberate-looking way. “Guuuys, I’m in major trouble…”

Still manipulative as ever… It kind of stirs up these protective desires, so could you please stop…? It makes me want to help you out! If this were anyone other than Isshiki, I’d have offered a hand immediately.

“What’s wrong, Iroha-chan? Take a seat.”

“Oh, Yui. Thank you very much.” When Yuigahama offered her a chair, the urge to cry must have vanished. She seemed awfully nonchalant about plopping down.

After she was seated, Yukinoshita spoke up. “First, let’s hear what you have to say.” Her tone was no different from usual and indicated no particular attitude toward our guest. Her response made me a little relieved. And at the same time, my relief felt wrong.

Why did that make me feel better?

Before I could discover the true nature of that discomfort, Isshiki opened her mouth. “So, well…actually, last week, the student council began their first job.”

“Oh, so they’ve already gotten started. That’s fast,” Yuigahama commented conversationally.

“You’re telling me,” Isshiki replied, and then she continued. “And we’re in reeeal trouble with something.” The moment those words were out of her mouth, her level of excitement sank like a stone. She was recalling what that job entailed. Was it that bad…?

Though I was privately anxious, I decided to ask about it. “How are you in trouble?”

Isshiki’s head jerked up. “It’s almost Christmas, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right… Huh? Uh, that’s a real sudden topic change.” That startled me… The topic had suddenly Boson-jumped. Well, it was true that Christmas was nearly here.

In response, Isshiki puffed out her cheeks and pouted in a deliberate sort of way. “I wasn’t changing the subject. Just listen to me, pleeease!”

“Yeah, Hikki.” For some reason, Yuigahama was pouting, too, and she came in to defend Isshiki.

Wait, I’m in the wrong, here? The way girls talk is too unique. I’m not gonna get that.

I prompted her to go on with a sour look that said, Fine, whatever, continue, and Isshiki did just that.

“And since it’s Christmas, we’ve been talking about joining up with a nearby high school to do a local Christmas event, like something for the elderly or little kids or something, but…”

“Huh, so which school are you working with?”

“It’s called Kaihin High School.”

Ohhh, that one, huh…? It’s a fairly decent prep school, not too far from ours. It’s a comparatively new one that was established a while back when three schools were consolidated into one. Since it’s three schools combined, it’s big, with lavish facilities and a nice building. They have fancy-schmancy conveniences like elevators, and apparently, they take attendance with ID cards. How trendy. The school has this modern approach, too, like they have a credit system for classes or something instead of sticking with your same class through high school, though I don’t really know how it works. I think it’s a pretty popular school.

But I got the feeling our two schools didn’t really interact much. This joint event seemed pretty forced.

“…Who suggested that idea?” I asked.

I’m not sure what was so funny to Isshiki about that, but she giggled a little at my apparently endearing silliness, then replied in a low whisper like it was a secret for only me to know. “They did. Of course I’d never suggest that!”

“Of course…”

She really does seem like she’d treat the job with contempt. When you have a type like that in the workplace, it’s a burden on everyone else. They do say the faults of others are a good teacher. So as not to be a burden to others, I should absolutely not get a job.

But anyway, I’m impressed she could accept the proposal when that’s her stance…, I was thinking as I eyed her in exasperation.

Remembering must have made her angry, as she forgot to put on her I’m-so-cute act and continued quite huffily, “Obviously, you’d normally say no to something like that, right? I’ve got Christmas plans of my own, after all.”

“Saying no is obvious to you, huh…?”

“That’s way too personal a reason…”

Yuigahama and I were both stunned.

I don’t know whether to call that mental fortitude or fearlessness or what… You’ve got the second-most rotten personality after me, don’t you? This is starting to inspire a genuine sense of affinity in me, and worst case I could get a crush on you, so please don’t.

But it seemed she wasn’t actually fearless, and Isshiki’s shoulders slumped as she muttered, “But Miss Hiratsuka said to do it, so…”

Oh, so she’s involved in this, too. No surprise there, huh? Or wait—if she’s similar to me even in her weakness to Miss Hiratsuka, then that gives us even more in common— Tl;dr you get it.

“So we’ve gotten started, but then, it’s like… Hmm, I guess…it isn’t really coming together?” Isshiki said. I think she was pretty seriously disheartened this time; there was no humor in her tone. She wasn’t a particularly hard worker, and she didn’t think much of what student council did, but it seemed she was still concerned in her own way. Maybe I should give her credit for caring enough that she would come talk to us instead of abandoning it. Plus, it wasn’t as if she’d become president of her own will. She’d basically been semi-tricked into it by me. And because of that guilt, I found myself going easy on her.

“Well, that’s what happens if you’re working with another school. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, right?” Isshiki said. She tilted her head and looked at me through her lashes as she added another “Riiight?”

That’s super-manipulative, and it’s not even cute… This part is what makes her different from Komachi.

Anyway, I’ll summarize her rambling explanation.

The first job of the new student council was a Christmas event with the goal of contribution to the community. Soubu wouldn’t be going at it solo but rather working in cooperation with Kaihin High School.

This was more challenging than what the student council usually managed. She not only had to coordinate with another school but also to do it before the internal relations within student council, as well as her own position, had truly solidified. It was a bit of a heavy burden for a rookie.

Judging from the timing, this plan may have been decided before Isshiki had been elected. In other words, it was the legacy of the previous generation.

That does happen sometimes. Whoever handled things before will casually leave behind their old mess. That happened at my old part-time job. You’re just doing your job as usual, and then it suddenly shows up like a land mine and you just gotta deal with it, even when you have no clue what you’re doing. And what’s more, when I questioned my predecessor about it, they told me it was so long ago, they didn’t remember. So what would you have me do? Thanks to this incident, when I quit, my successor took it over without me ever having touched it. In order to break such tragic chains of disadvantage, I will absolutely never get a job.

Well, never mind about me.

The issue here was Isshiki and her predecessor.

“Wait, before you come to us, you should ask Shiromeguri about it.”

Meguri Shiromeguri, aka Megumegurin  , the holder of Megurin Power, was the student council president before Isshiki. She’s sweet and cute. What’s with this half-assed explanation?

Since the handover of the student council president role would still be ongoing, normally, it was standard procedure to talk to her first. So…why was Isshiki here instead of Meguri? Did she get a special letter? I never wanted her on the character roster, though…

After I said that, Isshiki’s gaze drifted away. “Yeah, that’s true…but I can’t burden someone studying for entrance exams, can I?”

Meguri had been guaranteed a recommendation to her school of choice, though, so I doubted she was that busy. Maybe Isshiki didn’t like her that much? Well, to someone like Isshiki who put on an airheaded fluffy-sweet act, a real fluffy-sweet airhead like Megurin might hurt to look at. The real thing is always overwhelming and unreachable, after all. I could understand wanting to avert your eyes.

“You guys are the only ones I can ask!”

When Isshiki finished her explanation, Yuigahama and I both breathed short sighs. I guess this is what you call being speechless with exasperation.

Following our silence, a quiet moment passed.

But we were not the only reason for that quiet.

This silence was because Yukinoshita was not following her usual routine of inquiring into the circumstances of the visitor. Instead, she remained taciturn.

Noticing that, I looked at her.

Her long eyelashes gently lowered, eyes like the still surface of a lake, she looked at Isshiki—no, she looked at us.

Instantly, I realized what felt so off.

I’d felt relief when Isshiki had walked into the clubroom, and then I had been uneasy about that relief—and that was because nothing had happened when Isshiki and Yukinoshita had seen each other.

If Yukinoshita had sincerely wanted to be student council president, then…

The ones to prevent that had been Isshiki and, most of all, me.

Perhaps it was cruel for Isshiki to come asking about this.

If we were to take on this request, we’d wind up functionally working as agents for the student council.

I still didn’t know what Yukinoshita really thought of this situation, but I figured perhaps it would be cruel to place student council affairs right in front of her face. Showing her what she wanted but couldn’t have had to be the cruelest thing of all.

Was it right to accept Isshiki’s request?

As I was hesitating, Isshiki must have felt doubtful about the pause, as her gaze drifted around anxiously. “What should I do?”

Isshiki seemed fully ready to rely on us for this, but I was concerned about what Yukinoshita would say. I waited for her to react, but she didn’t reply at all.

Yukinoshita must have sensed Yuigahama and me looking at her. She brought her hand to her chin in a thoughtful gesture. “I see… I basically understand the situation, but…” Despite the long pause she had taken before opening her mouth, she did not come to a conclusion immediately and spoke somewhat vaguely.

Then she glanced over at me and Yuigahama. “What do you think?”

This had to be the first time she’d ever asked us whether we would take a request or not. Until now, she’d always made that judgment herself.

If I were to interpret this change in a positive way, I’d call it an accommodation. But I got the feeling it was not.

As for Yuigahama, her answer was clear as soon as she heard the question. “Why not? Let’s do it!”

Yukinoshita examined her, asking with her eyes alone for her reason why.

“It’s been a long time since we last got a request. We haven’t had anything like this lately. We haven’t had much to do, I guess…” Under Yukinoshita’s calm stare, Yuigahama wilted and trailed off. “So…I think it’d be nice if we could work on something…like before…”

Like before—the words stuck with me.

I think Yuigahama was hoping this would jump-start us again. She was thinking maybe we could dispel this atmosphere as we dealt with a consultation or request, like we had before.

“I see. Then I think that would be fine.”

But Yukinoshita’s clear voice denied that possibility.

Her faint smile and her question to us was not an accommodation.

It was capitulation. It was founded in her resignation—giving in, yielding the judgment and conclusion to someone else.

“…Eh, wouldn’t it be better to not?”

The remark left my mouth on its own.

I doubted we could do anything with the Service Club in its current state. And besides, I couldn’t stand shoving student council business in Yukinoshita’s face. I didn’t know what she really thought, but what I was imagining was probably not too far off the mark.

I couldn’t let this place deteriorate any more than it already had. We couldn’t take that risk.

If I’d acted out of a desire to protect this, then I had to commit to that to the end. Though I had no idea when that end would be, or where the goal was.

Yukinoshita offered no response to my opinion, merely staring at me, but Yuigahama asked me for my rationale. “Huh? Why not?”

“This is a student council problem. Besides, it’s not good for Isshiki to be relying on others from the get-go.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, but…” My excuse made Yuigahama smush her bun and fiddle with it in thought for a bit. And though I call it an excuse, it was a fair argument. It should have been enough to make her back down.

But there was one person in the room who was not persuaded.

“Huh? What’re you talking about?” Isshiki grumbled at me.

Well, I’d anticipated that. “This club doesn’t do everything for you. We’re ultimately here only to lend a hand. We’re not subcontractors to accept what you dump in our lap. Subcontracting seems like a real tough job, too. Don’t you know about subcontracting law? Not that I do. Anyway, this is yours to handle, Isshiki. You got that?” Shooting my zealous argument back at her, I prompted Isshiki to get up as I stood myself. And I pushed her out of the clubroom—er, escorted her out.

Though she reluctantly acquiesced to my zone press, Isshiki didn’t forget to complain. “I became president ’cause you said I should? So I’d appreeeciate it if you did something for me!”

Hearing that did weaken my resistance.

It was obvious that I should take responsibility toward Iroha Isshiki, since it was by my actions that she had become student council president. That also meant there was one other person besides Isshiki I had to take responsibility for, too.

So it was clear now what action I should take.

As I chased Isshiki out of the clubroom, I left with her.

Closing the door behind me, I took a few steps away from the room before I turned back to Isshiki, who was still complaining incessantly, and sighed a little. “…I said we wouldn’t, back there, but…can we figure out a way for me to help you?”

“Huh?” Isshiki tilted her head, apparently very confused by what I was saying. Well, I had just refused her so emphatically. It was no surprise she’d react like this.

And so I slowly laid it out for her. “Not as the club. Me helping personally. So Yukinoshita and Yuigahama won’t be in on it. I think it could be possible, if we do it that way.”

Listening to my explanation, Isshiki narrowed her eyes and seemed to be pondering, but she quickly gave the okay nod. “…Well, I’d be fine with that, too. And, like, you alone would actually be easier to han— I mean, I think I could relax and rely on you?”

Uh, you didn’t have to correct that.

“So then you’re okay with that?” I confirmed one final time, and Isshiki replied with enthusiasm.

“Yep!”

For now, I’d do what I could on my own. It was exceedingly doubtful exactly how much help that would be, but, well, I could back up Isshiki, at least.

At a glance, Isshiki looked like a bit of an idiot, but it’s not as if her brain is empty. I think if she did a proper job without trying to rely on us, she could become fairly presidential…

Oh yeah. Thinking back to rely on… I remembered when I’d convinced Isshiki to be the student council president, I’d imparted to her a secret tactic. But she had yet to activate it on this occasion. Before we began the task at hand, I should ask her about that.

“But wait, what about Hayama? Hayama, c’mon. Isn’t this the kind of thing you go to him for help with, so you can get closer to him?” I asked.

Isshiki’s cheeks reddened slightly, and she averted her eyes. “…This is something that’s actually hard, so it’d be too much to bother him with.”

So it’s fine to bother me, huh…? Well, I suppose it is.

But man, it was almost admirable, trying to bother him—Isshiki was doing the proper lovestruck girl thing, in her own way. I was impressed.

But the instant after I was struck by that thought, Isshiki snickered and put on a devilish grin. “Besiiides, with stuff like this, it’s cute when a girl can’t manage simple things, right? And isn’t it cuuute when she messes up? If she’s asking for help with something that’s actually a huge pain, it’d seem like too much.”

“Oh, is that right…?”

Wow, she reeeeally is a great character, huh…? Give it back! Give me back that impressed feeling! Never mind devilish, she’s a straight-up devil. A demon! A devil! An editor!

That Devilish Girl Iroha completely ignored my freak-out and briskly began talking about what came next. “So let’s meet up in front of the school gates later. I’ll be heading out soon.”

“Huh? We’re starting today…?” I said.

Isshiki wilted apologetically. “Sorry, there’s not much time…”

There’s not much time meant that the plan had moved along somewhat, and she must have tried managing things by herself at first. Although she ultimately had made the decision to rely on us, she had indeed made the effort to handle things herself. I couldn’t blame her for that.

“…No, it’s fine. But let’s meet up somewhere else. It’d be embarrassing if we left the school together and any friends started gossiping about it…”

“What?” Isshiki’s face was serious. Hmm, maybe she didn’t get it because we were from different generations. She was actually staring at me seriously without saying any comebacks, like I thought you didn’t have any friends. Then she sighed in exasperation. “Well, fine… Do you know the community center by the train station? We’re meeting there.”

“Oh, there?” I’d gone right past there many times on my way to the station. I recalled there was a senior care facility and a preschool or something nearby. I get it; so then “contributing to the community” means it’d be for those old people and kids. The venue for the day of the event would probably be there, too.

I assumed I’d pick up the other details along the way, so first, we’d leave the school.

“All right,” I said, “I’ll go once I’ve got my stuff together.”

“Okay. Right, right! I’ll see you there.” Isshiki smiled and gave me a little bow.

Like I said, manipulative!

After watching Isshiki turn the corner of the hallway, I went back to the clubroom. Right, so then I had to get ready to go before the time we would meet up.

When I opened the door of the clubroom, Yuigahama and Yukinoshita looked over at me.

“What did Iroha-chan say?” Yuigahama asked, and I gave the reply I had already come up with.

“She whined a whole bunch, but I think I persuaded her.”

“Oh…” Yuigahama’s shoulders drooped despondently as if she was somehow let down. And then she continued quietly and with some trepidation at Yukinoshita’s potential reaction. “I kinda…thought it’d be nice to do something, since it’s been a while…”

“Well, something’ll come eventually.” When that time comes, I wonder what sort of answer I’ll give them. I didn’t know what that would be, so I merely said whatever came to my lips.

An ever-so-tiny smile slipped into Yukinoshita’s expression. “Perhaps…it would be better if there were no requests. For things to go on without event.” Quietly, her gaze darted to the window. Her eyes were reflecting the dim red sky, I’m sure.

“…Maybe.” It was the most I could do to reply to Yukinoshita’s vanishing voice. That was why I immediately made my next remark before it could drag out. “Doesn’t look like anyone else’ll come today.”

“It seems that way…,” Yukinoshita replied and closed her book. It seemed she had taken that as the sign to go.

Once I saw that, I grabbed my bag, too. “Then I’m heading out now.”

“Oh, then I guess we’ll call it for today,” Yuigahama said as she rummaged around and started getting ready to go. Turning my back to her, I left the clubroom a bit before them.

I realized something, long ago. It’s not necessarily right to get involved every single time something comes to us. Sometimes you think it’s for the best, but then you get the worst outcome. A lot of the time, you won’t be able to take it back or do it over.

So then, what have I…?

What have we been doing all this time?