Love, Me, and Yuu

Bloom Into You Regarding Saeki Sayaka — LNCrawler · All chapters

Love, Me, and Yuu

T HIS MAY SOUND ARROGANT, but I was the one who was always by Nanami Touko’s side.

I’d heard that the antiquated student council room was once the calligraphy room. When I took a break from work and raised my head, the scent of wood I had grown accustomed to over the past year drifted to my nose. I turned my head to check on the origin of that fragrance and was met with the aroma of tea next. A black-haired upperclassman, who was working with me, was shifting the mug in her hand back and forth, swirling the liquid within. The steam rising from the mug intermingled with the light breaking through the room and dispersed like faint clouds.

Then, as though she had just realized something, the upperclassman paused and glanced at me. “Where’s Touko?”

Privately, I was kind of pleased that she was asking me about Touko’s plans.

“Oh, she had something today…” I responded ambiguously and turned to look out the window. It should be happening around now. Trees clustered around the student council room like they were bestowing blessings on it, and somewhere deep within those trees Touko was currently receiving a confession of love from a boy in our year. Confessions often took place in that spot, probably because it was conveniently shaded by trees and buildings where few people roamed.

I wonder just how many confessions Touko had turned down in that spot. At least ten, by my count. She hadn’t asked me for advice this time, but it was easy to draw conclusions from the gossip making the rounds… However, that might just have been because I was making an effort to learn everything I possibly could about Nanami Touko.

Though I knew that Touko would never accept a confession, I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t picture her without myself by her side, and I wasn’t just imagining what could be—I was already her constant companion in reality, and I didn’t want to be dethroned.

It had been a year since I started getting to know Touko, and I felt that I understood her very well. Far better than the others in our year or in the student council, at least. Anyone could see that Touko was remarkable, but I believed I was the only person in the school who’d gotten to see her more vulnerable side, even if I’d just caught glimpses of it. It was only natural that she wouldn’t want people to know her weaknesses, of course. Touko had a reason for hiding that side of herself—a very good one.

…It had been a year since I had met Nanami Touko. And in that time, I had only fallen deeper in love with her.

I was sure everyone around her felt the same. That was just how charming Touko was, inside and out. Our classmates were clearly drawn to her, so I concluded that she was universally appealing. She had stolen my heart at first sight, and I was certainly not the only one.

That being the case, one might say it was only natural that Touko received confessions so frequently it could be called routine. Still, it bothered me, and that was why I was secretly relieved when Touko showed back up at the student council room before too long.

But this time, something was different.

She wasn’t alone.

Light and shadows stretched in through the door that had been flung open wide enough to allow two people to enter. I ran through a mental list of the student council members, but we were all there except for the president. And the second person was obviously smaller than Touko, with a nervous shrinking of the shoulders characteristic of an underclassman. The student standing at Touko’s side was silhouetted against a light so blinding that I couldn’t see her face at first.

I hadn’t forgotten the girl I met during elementary school.

I hadn’t been able to forget Senpai, whom I met during junior high.

After meeting her in high school, I was convinced I would never forget Nanami Touko for the rest of my life.

And finally, there was one other person I knew I would never forget.

The first year named Koito Yuu was the underclassman I was most conscious of in high school. She was petite and seemed a little sensitive about her own short stature. Her light-colored hair was tied up in pigtails, and she told us she had come to the student council after being talked into it by her homeroom teacher. Though she had a passive attitude, she was a diligent worker, so I thought we’d found ourselves a good helper.

Touko seemed to like her too, which gave me a bit of pause. I’d begun to suspect that they had more than a simple under and upperclassman relationship after a one-on-one conversation with the girl.

“Koito-san.” I’d called out to her. She turned immediately, greeting me in return, though once she came over to me, she looked around noticeably as though checking behind her.

I looked behind us as well out of curiosity, but all I could see was the path we were walking on and the distant school buildings.

“Where is Nanami-senpai?”

“We’re not always together.” I smiled a bit as I said it. “Touko will be here later.”

“I see.”

Koito-san’s shoulders slumped, almost as though she were slightly relieved. Maybe she just wasn’t that great at handling Touko? Or perhaps she felt intimidated by her? When I first started high school, I’d been reluctant to talk to upperclassmen, too. Not to mention that this was Touko we were talking about, and facing her might never become any less nerve-racking.

When I opened the student council room with the key I had borrowed from the faculty room, Koito-san muttered, “Ah, so it’s normally locked.”

She had never been the earliest to show up and had apparently never paid any mind to the lock and key. Well, she wasn’t an actual member of the student council yet—just helping out—so it would have been odd for her to have access to the key.

She looked up at me with a reserved smile. “I’m lucky you came when you did, upperclassman.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Speaking to underclassmen always made me recall the choir club from junior high. I think I’d expected to become the head of the club, but at the same time, didn’t feel well suited to it. I didn’t have it in me to take up a leadership position where I’d need to rally people together. Wanting to support the kind of person who can be a leader and the joy of being by their side…might have been one of the reasons why I was drawn to Touko.

Once we entered the room, I immediately started organizing documents. We didn’t have any major events right now, but by this time next month, things would be very different.

“I’m sorry, I made this without asking. Is that okay?” Koito-san made coffee for the two of us, offering me a cup.

“Thank you.”

When I took it, she sat down across from me with the desk between us. Though she was self-deprecating about being so easily swayed, it seemed she felt comfortable in the place it had led her to. Perhaps the natural scenery visible through the window, far from the framework of the main school buildings, helped put her at ease.

I carefully took a sip of the steaming coffee. The heat felt surprising on the tip of my tongue. But as I drank it slowly, that heat turned into warmth. The particular warmth that visited me during the period when spring was at its climax settled my heart, though the temperature difference of the liquid that slid down my throat made my arms quiver slightly.

This felt nostalgic. I had also poured coffee for my upperclassmen when I was a first year. My memories quivered on the surface of the pitch-black liquid as I reflected on them.

“Nanami-senpai isn’t the president, right?”

“Hm?”

I lifted my face at Koito-san’s abrupt question. When my eyes met hers, she rather hastily clarified her intention. “It’s just, I haven’t seen the actual president at all.”

“Ah, yes…of course.” I recalled President Kuze’s insincere smile and laugh. Touko certainly did seem much more presidential than him. “He’s apparently busy with club activities.”

“But he still became the president?”

“Only because the other candidates from last year were even less reliable.”

It helped that the people around him had been hard at work supporting him. Having Nanami Touko go around promoting President Kuze during election time probably left quite the impression on everyone.

“His term in office ends next month, so we’ll have elections again this year.”

“Mm-hmm,” she responded half-heartedly. I hadn’t really cared who would become president the previous year, but this year was different.

As though my thoughts had slipped out, Koito-san voiced the very same thing on my mind. “Is Nanami-senpai running as a candidate?”

“Yes.” And if that was what Touko desired, then I would stand by her.

“What about you, Saeki-senpai?”

“I will be helping Touko.” I wanted not to surpass Touko but to walk at her side. “I imagine we’ll need your help as well, Koito-san.” Though whether this was part of her actual student council duties was a bit of a grey area.

“Oh, yes. My teacher mentioned that.”

“Have you decided whether you’d like to become a student council officer?”

Maki-kun, another underclassman who had come to observe and help, had already announced that he wanted to become an officer. And President Kuze had proudly said that he was recruiting an underclassman himself, though I wasn’t that confident in anyone he would recommend. They said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

“Well…I sort of feel like it might end up happening.” Koito-san spoke almost as though she had no control over it. Perhaps she wasn’t very good at making her own decisions. Then again, I thought relatively few people excelled in that area. Even I wasn’t sure how much I’d chosen certain things thus far.

And as I watched Touko, I began to suspect that choosing something for yourself didn’t mean it was the right choice.

“Um…”

“Is something wrong?”

Koito-san paused before continuing. After glancing at the window, she nervously wiped away the coffee wetting her lips. As I waited and wondered what was wrong, she finally opened her mouth again. “What kind of person is Nanami-senpai?”

“She’s exactly what she looks like.”

My response was innocuous, but it wasn’t a lie. Touko was intelligent, pretty, and genuinely had it all, and she was also a coward. It was possible to see her hidden and indistinct inner workings if you paid close enough attention.

“What does she seem like to you, Koito-san?” I asked her back, a bit spitefully. At that, Koito-san’s forehead wrinkled as though she were deep in thought, and she turned her gaze down toward her coffee cup.

“She’s cool, good at her work, beautiful, and kind.”

“That’s exactly right.”

She’d just described what Touko seemed like on the surface. Though I questioned that last part about her being kind—she was certainly friendly, but I doubted Touko had the time to be kind to those around her at present.

“If you really want to get to know her, why don’t you just ask her yourself?” Of course, I knew Touko would never expose her true self like that. She probably didn’t even want to open up to me, to my mild frustration.

“Hmm…” Koito-san closed her eyes and hummed.

If Touko were ever to lay herself bare, I was sure she would only do it for someone who had no interest in seeing her do it. Someone who held neither affection or disillusionment when it came to Touko, despite being close to her.

I wondered whether such a person could possibly exist.

“A lot of people don’t actually understand themselves very well, huh?” Koito-san smiled wryly, sounding like she was talking to herself.

Her words seemed to melt into the quiet of the student council room as I silently contemplated them. Was there anything I didn’t know about the person called Saeki Sayaka? I was certain of my motives and dreams thus far. I was no longer vexed by love, as I had been in the past, and I could see what kind of person I wanted to be.

I realized, unexpectedly, that I had become a simple person. I had allowed only the things that interested me to remain and cleared away the rest. Maybe it was because I was currently occupied for the most part by my feelings for Touko. If I were to someday convey how I felt to her, I would become an unknown version of myself again.

Yes, someday.

Even after reaching my second spring of high school, that someday still had yet to come into bloom.

I drank from my coffee cup until it was half-empty.

Perhaps because no one had showed up yet, Koito-san started talking to me again. “Did Nanami-senpai have something to do?”

“That’s what she said, but someone might be confessing their love to her again,” I replied jokingly but was a possibility.

“Have you ever been confessed to, Saeki-senpai?” Koito-san leaned towards me slightly, full of curiosity.

When I heard the word confessed , I felt a slight pang run through the back of my head. I couldn’t think of that as a confession anymore.

“I suppose you could say I have.” I had experienced one or two more confessions since entering high school, though it didn’t happen to me as often as it did to Touko. Of course, I rejected them on the spot. They hadn’t even been people I interacted much with, and their names and faces were now hazy.

“Oh, I knew it.”

“You knew it?”

“The stuff I said about Nanami-senpai applies to you, too. You’re cool, you get your work done, and you’re beautiful.” Koito-san seemed delighted at first and then grew embarrassed by saying those things in front of the person she was talking about. She tried to play it off by looking away and smiling ambiguously.

“You’re not going to tell me I’m kind, too?” I said to tease her.

Koito-san kept her eyes turned away from me. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a joke.”

I really wasn’t all that kind, anyway. If she had told me I was, I would probably have replied that she wasn’t much of a judge of character.

Koito-san brought the coffee cup up to her lips and paused. Then she turned her eyes back toward me. “When you were confessed to, how did you feel?”

So she’s going to keep this conversation going, I thought. She was more engrossed by the topic of romance than I had expected. But then again—I corrected myself. I didn’t know much about Koito-san. When it came to this underclassman, I couldn’t distinguish what was unexpected and what wasn’t.

“Conflicted.”

“Conflicted?”

“About how best to turn them down without hurting their feelings.”

My own experience naturally made me take on that attitude.

Koito-san smiled slightly. “You really are kind, upperclassman.”

“I was just being respectful, that’s all.” I respected the feeling of caring for someone, because those feelings now motivated my every move. I knew all too well the anxiety and conflict that accompanied them, so I couldn’t be too blunt. Even if I couldn’t reciprocate their feelings, I wanted to answer in a way that wouldn’t make those feelings feel dismissed.

“Do you like anyone, upperclassman?”

“That’s a secret.” Though saying that was basically confirming that I did, I drew the line at stating it outright. “And you? Do you have someone you like?”

I’d asked thinking that she would reply coyly, like I did, but Koito-san’s lips pursed stiffly. She frowned unhappily for a moment and then answered in a matter-of-fact voice. “I don’t.”

“I see.”

I wondered whether she was aware of the expression on her face. Why did her eyes look pleading, as though she were lost in an unknown land?

To be unhappy about not having someone you liked was an interesting new perspective. At the time, my surprise at her reaction was enough to make me feel that she was quite an amusing underclassman.

But it didn’t take long for me to revise my opinion entirely.

Ever since the day that Touko chose her.

It happened during the student council election the next month.

President Kuze was coming to the end of his term as student council president, and was transferring his duties. In the process, we talked about the next election, and I was just about to turn the conversation towards what Touko and I would do when I heard Touko address someone.

“I’m going to need a campaign manager. Someone to help me with election activities and such. Could you do that for me, Koito-san?” Touko’s voice was light, without a single ulterior motive behind it.

I think I may have been even more surprised than Koito-san, to whom the request had been posed. It was a piercing shock, as though Touko had abruptly started speaking fluently in a language I had never heard before. She wasn’t looking at me. She was looking straight at Koito-san.

In that moment, I wasn’t the one standing by Touko’s side. The voices of the president and Maki-kun, who had been standing nearby, stopped reaching my ears.

All my life, I’ve been helpless when it comes to coping with the unexpected. I think I’m generally quick to understand once I overcome my initial shock, but being clever also means that you have to be aware of what’s going on around you. People adapt to their environments, whether for better or worse. Perhaps I, too, had gone soft while at Touko’s side.

Was I lacking something necessary for Touko to choose me?

Had I neglected something?

Or…

Was Touko the one who had changed?

I was confident that I had observed Touko more closely than anyone else had. If a change like that had occurred in her, my heart told me I couldn’t have missed it. Even if I hadn’t noticed it right away, I would surely have cottoned on with time, and since I hadn’t been able to do that yet, it must have happened recently.

Just recently. Just a short time ago. If there was something that had changed Touko, then…

I looked shakily at Touko and then at Koito-san.

Koito-san remained unable to answer, staring at Touko as though trying to understand her intent.

“I had no idea you lived here, Koito-san.”

When I took a detour to the bookstore after school, I was welcomed by an unexpected face. My underclassman, who had now officially become a member of the student council, was sitting behind the counter.

“You must have been in quite a rush if you’re still in your uniform.”

“I had to take over the register as soon as I got home.” Koito-san smiled with an effort. Then, feigning the air of a regular store employee, she added, “Please take your time.”

As I walked away from the counter and strolled around the paperback area, I occasionally caught glimpses of Koito-san. She was sitting obediently, just as she did when she was at the student council room. The way she sat so still gave me the impression that she was still quite childlike. I felt like I saw immaturity in her—like she would struggle to work supporting other people.

That was probably what one would call jealousy.

The student council election had gone off without a hitch, resulting in Touko becoming president and me becoming vice president. Though I had helped, I think that Koito-san worked hard as well. Her endorsement speech was rather good, I suppose.

“………”

I think that the results would have likely been the same if I had been Touko’s endorser.

But Touko had chosen Koito-san.

Of course, she was free to do as she wished. I knew, rationally, that it would have been presumptuous to expect things to go exactly as I wanted. And yet, something still bothered me. Touko had given me many reasons for appointing Koito-san to the role she had. All of them had sounded true enough and seemed very well thought out. Clearly, she had carefully chosen her words to sound that way.

That Touko was being so careful meant that there was something she was trying to hide. And what she was trying to hide was the true reason why she had chosen Koito-san rather than me.

I couldn’t believe it.

I just couldn’t fathom what it was about Koito-san that had so caught Touko’s attention, no matter how much I observed our underclassman. I wondered how she looked in Touko’s eyes.

Still, I thought as I looked around the cramped bookstore, people certainly are connected in unexpected ways.

Though Koito-san probably didn’t remember it, I could easily recall the day I visited this store in order to buy a book by Hayashi Renma. Which meant that the junior high school student I’d seen that day had been Koito-san herself. Doesn’t look like she’s gotten much bigger since then, has she?

I might have grown taller than her, but I hadn’t grown much on the inside. I had fallen in love with someone, been swept off my feet by those feelings, and was now feeling troubled and jealous. I suppose the only thing that had really changed was the book I was holding right now. Instead of choosing books to try to impress others, I had picked out a book I wanted to read.

No… Back then, I really had wanted to become like Senpai, I suppose. Those transient feelings were genuine, though I was less certain whether the same could be said for how Senpai felt toward me.

“Could I get these?”

When I held the books out at the register, Koito-san straightened up as if coming out of a daze. “Thank you very much.” She looked curiously at the covers of the books I handed to her. “Essays?”

“I’m not all that into fiction.”

I remembered a lie I had once told and wondered whether that lie brought happiness to anyone.

“So, what kind of books does the child of a bookseller read?”

“Hmm… I like mostly mystery and sci-fi.”

Mystery, eh? It reminded me of a certain corner of the bookshelf in my room.

“Touko comes here every once in a while too, doesn’t she?”

“Huh?” Koito-san froze for a moment, as though the topic the conversation had turned to had caught her by surprise. “Yes, occasionally,” she answered as she continued with her work. I thought there was something vacant about her movements. It was like her voice lacked any emotion…or like she was hiding them so I wouldn’t notice.

“What kinds of books does Touko like?” I ended up asking, though it verged on prying. I wondered how much Koito-san was aware of my intentions.

“Well, let me think. She likes reference books…and she buys the latest bestselling novels pretty often, too.”

“Uh-huh…”

Those were things I knew before I even asked. But Koito-san and I often turned the conversation to Touko when we were alone together. Maybe it was because Touko was what we both had in common, though I was beginning to wonder whether that was all there was to it.

I paid for the books and accepted the paper bag. After putting it away in my school bag, I turned my back to Koito-san.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Right…”

We exchanged superficial goodbyes and parted.

As I headed towards the exit, I took a deep breath, filled my lungs with the dry scent of the cramped, paper-stuffed store. When I stepped outside, I was greeted by the soft, slanting light of the sinking sun. As it dyed the roofs of the town, I felt delayed self-loathing seeping in. What was I doing to my own underclassman?

I quickened my pace, as if trying to escape the spiteful upperclassman I had become. Why was it that the dusk pressing down on my back made me feel even more frantic, I wonder?

I got home, went to my room, and pulled out the book I had bought. Pulling off the wrapping, I walked to my bookshelf. The novels that were not to my taste remained in that same corner of my bookshelf. I put my fingers on the spines, half-pulled them out, then reconsidered as I pulled my hand away. I hadn’t read them since I put them here. I wasn’t interested in fiction.

Maybe I really hadn’t changed since junior high. I was still trying to work myself to the bone for the person I cared for. Just as the phrase indicated, I would grind myself away until I disappeared.

But I couldn’t think of anything else I could do for her—for Touko.

“…No, I suppose that’s a lie.”

There was one thing I could do. I just didn’t want to think about it.

I sat down on the edge of my bed and looked at the uniform I was still wearing.

I couldn’t calm down lately, and it wasn’t just because of Touko. I kept suddenly being assailed by the panicky feeling that I was standing in an unfamiliar place all alone.

Koito Yuu. There was something about that girl.

Whatever it was, I had a hunch that it was significant to Touko, and that in time, it might even shake the foundation of my world. Melodramatic as it sounded, I knew I felt something big brewing.

Nanami Touko was changing. I didn’t know whether Touko was aware of it herself, but it was easy to see for someone who watched her closer than anyone else. The changes were still furtive and incredibly minute, but now that they had started, they would surely accelerate. Though I couldn’t be sure that the changes would result in something good, Touko, who had been constant and immutable since I first met her a year ago, was starting to change.

“………”

And what had changed her was probably Koito-san’s presence.

I wondered what Touko saw in Koito-san.

Theories that I didn’t want to think about passed through my head one after another. Surely not… I thought, but as I considered the signs that pointed precisely in that direction, I wondered how best to approach things from here.

I didn’t think it would be good for Touko to stay the way she was. But I was terrified of whether I could remain by Touko’s side once she lost her obsession. Though I prayed for Touko to change someday, I didn’t have the courage to hasten the arrival of that day and had instead chosen to remain silently at her side. That was the best I could do, it seemed.

To pick up on things quickly meant becoming a coward.

As I mused over what my grandmother had once said, I held out my hand and flexed it, pushing my fingers apart as much as I could.

There wasn’t really much I didn’t understand about myself.

Even my limits were easy to find when I looked closely enough.

After that, as summer approached, Touko suddenly called the girl by her name one day.

It happened quite casually, while we were going about our usual work in the student council. When I heard Touko quickly saying, “Yuu,” her voice seemed to pierce right through my ears and sink into my stomach. Koito-san responded to her unshaken, without even pausing her work.

Sweat formed on my back.

I remembered the time I had mustered up the courage to call Touko by her name when we were first years.

The words flowed between them easily, far removed from the joy I had once felt in my chest, like I had just struck gold. When did this happen? What does it mean? The questions swirling in my head rooted me to the spot.

When Doujima-kun, one of the other student council officers, pointed it out, Touko simply responded, “I thought it couldn’t hurt to be a bit friendlier, right?”

Even Manaka and Midori were on a first-name basis with Touko. So it really wasn’t a big deal. Or was it?

“Well, in that case…perhaps I should call Koito-san by her first name as well,” I stubbornly proposed. I wanted to show her that it wasn’t special for Touko to call her by her first name.

I wondered what kind of expression was on Touko’s face. I was too afraid to look, and my vision started to tunnel.

“Sure. If you want.” Koito-san’s eyes had gone round at the sudden turn of events.

Faced with her reaction, my panic subsided a bit. I withdrew and strived to compose myself as I took a deep breath. Then, I dove deep into hiding.

Though there wasn’t anything within myself that I didn’t understand, the things I didn’t understand about those around me were increasing. An underclassman I had only seen as a hard worker at first had become an enigma, as opaque as a swamp.

Given everything that had happened so far, I thought things were still all right for the moment.

But at the same time, I sensed that it was unlikely to stay that way for long.

If I tried to remember when this next part happened, I wouldn’t know where to start. Maybe we didn’t really exchange any words at all, or perhaps it all happened at the boundary of a dream. Regardless, Koito-san and I were there.

We were alone together in the student council room. I was sitting and working on odd jobs as usual when Koito-san prepared tea.

“Thank you,” I said politely and took the mug. I didn’t immediately sip it but instead cupped it as though I were holding onto its warmth, while Koito-san sat across from me. She immediately sipped the tea and gave a small sigh.

“It must be difficult being an underclassman.”

“But weren’t you one just last year?” Koito-san smiled. That was true enough. If anything, I had been an underclassman for the majority of my high school career thus far. It was just that it didn’t actually feel that way, perhaps because my second year felt more substantial than my first.

When I say substantial, I mean that it was charged with intensity, full of new experiences. Of course, they weren’t all positive. What I had gained since meeting Koito-san certainly hadn’t all been bright and rosy.

Then I noticed my underclassman’s face was turned down and that there was a shadow hanging over her. “Is there something wrong?”

She was trying to hide her own weakness, just like Touko had in the past…though that might just be the nature of the human heart. She wouldn’t allow the parts of herself she perceived as weak to be exposed.

So in response to my question, Koito-san just smiled as she said, “No, not really.”

The old version of me would have let it go with an “I see.” But this time, though I didn’t know why exactly, I felt as though I couldn’t just run from what was occurring right before my eyes. Touko and Koito-san had already started moving. Maybe I just wanted to make up the distance that had appeared between us at some point, if only by a little.

And most importantly, right at that moment, I was her upperclassman.

“Is it about Touko?”

That was more or less all I could think of that might be troubling Koito-san. Besides, I thought this might be a chance to get even a slight glimpse of how Koito-san had captivated Touko.

Perhaps I said it because I knew she felt the same way I did.

People act as though they don’t see themselves, but in actuality, they’re very self-involved. When a person evaluates others, they use themselves as a standard of comparison. People are very familiar with their own appearances.

Koito-san didn’t answer. I watched the corners of her lips sink gloomily, and abruptly ventured a little further. “You’re happy you’ve found someone you like, but you’re concerned about the distance between the two of you.”

“Distance?”

I nodded. “The distance between you gives that person a kind of charm.” Sometimes it’s that distance, that particular angle, that attracts someone to another person. “You’re trying to get closer by moving ahead…but when you do that, you see the other person from an angle you hadn’t seen before. The backdrop changes, and things that were hidden before become visible. Even the things you liked about the person might look entirely different.”

But when you changed positions, the other person’s view of you changed, too. The change in perspective might make them feel renewed affection for you—or lose interest in you.

I was too preoccupied with my own problems to see that.

“It happens all the time, I think. The other person will change, and you’ll change, too. That’s all there is to it, and maybe that isn’t so bad.”

I’d once parted ways with someone when those changes weren’t in sync with each other, and the same could easily happen again someday. But I couldn’t just stop changing either, so I kept a close eye on everything, including myself. And while I was staring so fixedly, things began to move around me.

The realization that finally dawned on me was so simple, but I might have been a bit too late in coming to it. I had rejected change, choosing to remain by her as she stood in one place. But while I stayed in place, she started to walk, following a girl who was passing by.

It’s rare for any two people to wish for the same thing. I wished to be by her side, but she didn’t particularly wish to be by mine.

By the time I raised my head, they were already far ahead of me.

“Why don’t you change with her?” If that’s what Touko wants. Though I couldn’t say everything I wanted to, I tried to convey it to Koito-san in a roundabout way. I think we understood each other.

“You’re right.” Though her voice and posture were still sunken, my underclassman nodded slowly and firmly.

“Hrmm…” I couldn’t look directly at her, so I gave an exaggerated frown instead.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I was just wondering when you became such an obedient little underclassman.”

“What? That’s so rude…” Koito-san held her teacup halfway to her lips as she looked up at me. “I think I’ve been pretty responsive with you at least, Saeki-senpai.”

“I suppose.” She was certainly several times more perfunctory with me than when she talked to Touko. “But that’s because you couldn’t care less about me.”

When I said that outright, Koito-san squinted at me, astonished.

“Well, I guess you could put it that way, if you really wanted to be harsh…” It seemed that she had also given up on dressing up her words. “You don’t really choose your words carefully, do you, Saeki-senpai?”

“Not when it comes to you.”

I had many people with whom I chose my words carefully: my family members, the teachers from my lessons, and of course Touko. But when I talked to Koito-san, for whatever reason, I didn’t really bother with that. Perhaps she was like a mirror, in a way.

Though I couldn’t put into words why so many people yearned for Koito-san, I could feel it on my skin and in the air.

“It’s important to have people like that too, though. If you’re always choosing your words with care, you’ll just tire yourself out.”

“…That’s true.” My underclassman broke into a smile. When she smiled, she looked a little more childish, filled with a natural sweetness.

It seemed that Koito-san had accepted me as a person who fulfilled that role for her as well. Though it didn’t necessarily make things any different than before, it felt like we had actually become friends.

I didn’t know if it was the beginning of something or the end. Either way, the surface of the tea did not show me the answer, no matter how long I swirled it around.

Or perhaps it was both.

The hunch I had felt at some point in time eventually became reality. Touko changed more and more. She went through the preparations for the student council play she had been planning for but seemed to have a change of heart about the act she performed on a regular basis. I had no idea what she had done with Koito-san while I was unaware but Touko seemed to have become…weaker.

That might not be the best way to phrase it, but it was what I saw. She no longer hid her weakness from others, as though all the fractured aspects of her heart had become one. In exchange, Touko spent more time looking down, as though she had lost something.

I had a guess as to what it was that Touko had lost.

Touko and Koito-san.

Though I knew it deep down, I didn’t want things to end without my ever making a move.

At some point, Touko had said this to me: When you’re here, I feel like I’m approaching the ideal version of myself. As long as she had Saeki Sayaka standing beside her or following behind her, she felt she could keep going.

I had been happy to hear those words. But…if Touko’s ideals had changed, then what did that mean for me?

When I took a sip of the cooling tea, the battered windows quivered slightly. A cold wind slipped in from somewhere, caressing me through my clothes.

Ah, I thought. The season, or at least the day, is coming to an end. As I looked out the window to check, the scenery and my memories seemed to sink, as though they were drowning in an ocean of light.

In the middle of our school trip in early autumn, the day I had anticipated for so long finally came. I looked it right in the eyes, and Touko was before me when I did.

She looked straight at me, but her expression was pained, as if she wanted to turn her gaze away.

“Touko.”

“Don’t do it, Sayaka.” Touko’s voice was weak as she tried to dissuade me. “I’m not the amazing person you think I am.”

I had known that for a long time, of course. But the Touko here, right now, was already amazing in her own way. She was magnificent and beautiful.

Up until this point, she had been guided by the change that Koito-san had brought about. But starting now, I would be the one to move.

I took a step towards the true Touko.

“I love you.”

When I became a high school student, I resolved not to make the same mistakes again. As long as I knew why I had gone wrong before, I thought that I could prevent it from happening again.

I thought I already knew everything there was about loving someone.

But I only truly learned what that meant after I met her .