4: Sometimes the victory flag and white flag are both just pieces of paper
4
Sometimes the victory flag and white flag are both just pieces of paper
But the next day, something felt off.
The mood was steadily shifting in Tama-chan’s favor, and Konno’s harassment seemed to be gradually easing up. She wasn’t kicking Tama-chan’s desk anymore or doing little things like breaking her pens and mechanical pencils. But Konno’s group was still bad-mouthing her behind her back. And there was something else.
What they were saying about her was making me anxious.
Normally, they’d ridicule her inner strength and attack her personality; they’d say things like “She’s tone-deaf,” or “She’s self-centered,” or “She’s so violent.” Maybe they’d bring up the time she pushed Konno’s hand away.
But that day, during lunch, they were saying something different.
“Who does she think she is, some kind of tragic heroine?”
“She’s a real slut, conning those guys.”
At first, I didn’t understand what they meant. But after a second, it clicked. And if I was right…then we were in trouble.
I decided to bring it up with Mizusawa after school.
“Mizusawa.”
“What? What’s up?” he said, spinning a fat mechanical pencil around in his hand.
“Can I talk to you?”
I motioned for him to follow me. We couldn’t exactly talk about it in class. He nodded, not looking especially suspicious, and followed me to the stair landing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, actually…”
I lowered my voice and told him what I’d overheard at lunch. I told him how the gossip had changed, and what they were calling her: “tragic heroine” and “slut.” He frowned and tapped the floor with the tip of his slipper.
“I guess we were…kind of stupid.”
I nodded. My own worries matched up with what Mizusawa had just said. In other words…
“I’m guessing someone saw the four of us at the restaurant yesterday.”
It probably happened before Mimimi got there, when it was just Tama-chan, Mizusawa, Takei, and me. Either Konno or one of her groupies had seen us.
Mizusawa nodded. “Probably. If you think about it, it would look like three guys were protecting her. Erika wouldn’t be happy about that…and now here we are.”
“Yeah…”
“No matter how you slice it, going to that place near school was risky. Kids from our class go there all the time… Damn it, we got too excited because our plan was working…”
Mizusawa bit his lip regretfully. He was right. Hinami had even warned Nakamura and Izumi to watch where they went together on the weekends. Obviously, a restaurant near school would be out of the question.
We were both silent for a while. Part of our strategy to help Tama-chan had backfired. Just when her situation was improving, we’d set off the source of all the problems, and now we were regressing. There was no point in getting depressed about it, though. Focusing on our next steps, I told Mizusawa what I was thinking.
“There’s a chance Konno’s harassment could escalate because of this, isn’t there?”
He frowned.
“Definitely. Konno hates that stuff, and it’s worse because Takei and I were there.”
“Because you’re part of a group that’s friends with her?”
“Yeah,” Mizusawa said, leaning against the wall. “…Well, at least Shuji wasn’t there.”
A shiver went down my back as I imagined that scenario.
“I can imagine how bad that would have been…”
Seeing the guy she liked helping out the girl she hated would have infuriated her. She probably would have taken all that rage out on Tama-chan, too. The backlash would be insane.
Mizusawa licked his lips, looking less calm and cool than usual.
“But the situation still sucks. From now on…we probably need to pay more attention to Erika’s attacks than the class mood.”
I nodded in agreement. “You’re right… She’s been careful not to leave any tracks, but now that we’ve pissed her off, she might start to do more dramatic things.”
Mizusawa nodded.
“Let’s try to keep someone with Tama-chan at all times. Mimimi and Hinami are already doing that, but we can help out, too.”
“Got it. And when Mimimi and Hinami are with her, we’d better keep an eye on her stuff.”
“True. We don’t know what she might do.”
“Okay.”
Having agreed on a plan, we headed back toward the classroom. If the situation was deteriorating, we’d act fast and do everything we could. As usual, talking it over with someone else brought out ideas I wouldn’t have had on my own. If we took one step at a time toward our goal, we should be able to achieve it eventually, just like we’d done for the class mood. I was mulling over this as we walked along.
But a few minutes later, the ominous cloud was back.
We were too late.
* * *
The second we walked into the classroom, I sensed something was wrong. It was strangely quiet, considering school was over. Mizusawa must have sensed it, too, because he stopped near the door and looked around. Finally, the two of us realized what was going on. All eyes were on a single point in the room.
Tama-chan was sitting between Hinami and Mimimi, shivering. Mizusawa and I looked at each other. We didn’t know what had happened, but we knew it was serious. The near-invincible Tama-chan looked weak and broken. Something was terribly wrong.
While I was looking at Tama-chan, Mizusawa walked quietly over to Nakamura and Takei, probably to ask them what the damage was. I followed him.
“What’s going on?” Mizusawa whispered to Nakamura.
“Not sure,” Nakamura whispered back.
“You don’t know?” Mizusawa asked. Nakamura frowned.
“Not really. Something about her charm?”
As soon as he said it, a bad feeling shot through me. Right away, my mind went to one possibility.
A charm.
Tama-chan with her head down.
Erika Konno, more pissed off than ever.
No way.
I rushed over to Tama-chan. Everyone stared at me because that wasn’t exactly the acceptable thing to do. But I didn’t care.
I walked right up to Tama-chan—and that’s when I saw it. She was sitting there with Hinami and Mimimi trying to soothe her, gripping the striped character that looked like an ancient clay haniwa sculpture.
Its back was ripped open.
I stood there in a wordless daze.
“I’m so sorry… This was a gift from you, Minmi, and…,” Tama-chan said in a quaking voice, still looking down.
Mimimi smiled reassuringly and rubbed her back.
“What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything! We’ll just buy another one, okay?”
“But…you gave one to all of us that time…”
“Don’t worry about that! We’ll all get matching ones again! Okay?”
Mimimi’s cheerful words didn’t seem to be reaching Tama-chan. She was tracing the roughly torn fabric over and over again with her finger, like she was imprinting it with her horrible regret. I was also sure that charm meant a lot to her. Behind her facade, Mimimi had to know what Tama-chan was trying to say. But there was nothing she could do about it, so all she could do was try to soothe her a little.
“I’m so sorry, Minmi…”
Tama-chan kept apologizing to Mimimi, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. But that one-of-a-kind gift she’d received from Mimimi had been damaged.
“I’m so sorry…”
That was the most honest thing she could say. After all, everything she’d been doing had been to protect Mimimi. I stared at the two of them, unable to speak. My gaze met Tama-chan’s.
“Tomozaki…”
“Yeah?” I tried to answer as gently as possible. Her eyes were filled with tears.
“Konno and her friends were still in class when I found it.”
She stared at the charm.
“They were?”
“Yeah. I almost exploded and yelled at them.”
“…Uh-huh.”
“But you, and Mizusawa, and Takei, and Fuka-chan—all of you were trying to help me, right?”
“…Yeah.”
“I didn’t want to undo all our work…so I didn’t say anything.”
“…You didn’t? That must have been hard.”
All I could do was listen. She bit her lip in frustration and let out a shuddery sigh.
“I held it in, though. It was really hard.” Then, as if a dam had broken, her next words left her mouth like a wail. “But I just want to run away…”
I ground my teeth together. Tama-chan had been so strong. But now even she wanted to run.
Tama-chan stayed true to her core, no matter what, even when the class queen Erika Konno harassed her day in, day out and her classmates avoided her. She always stood on her own two feet, persevering and steadfast. But now that very same Tama-chan wanted to flee.
If she was the only one being affected, she would have been able to take it. But the one thing she couldn’t handle was the attack on her friendship and the sadness her friend was going through because of it.
“…!”
I felt my head getting hot, and frustration and anger were turning my vision red. When I looked around the classroom, Konno was nowhere in sight, but one of her hangers-on was still there. I didn’t know if she was the one responsible, or if she’d watched, or if she had just stood there. Whatever it was, she had probably been involved somehow. In which case—
I took a deep breath and prepared to take aim.
“Fumiya.”
At the sound of the quiet, calm voice behind me, I came back to my senses.
“Is that really the best idea?”
When I turned around, Mizusawa was looking around the classroom, his brows furrowed.
“…Sorry. Thanks for stopping me.”
“No problem. There’s no proof, and our kingpin isn’t here, so…”
“Yeah.”
I caught my breath and looked at Tama-chan again.
As soon as I did, Hinami—who had been sitting next to her—suddenly rose to her feet with spine-chilling silence. My eyes were glued to her. She was fixated on something far away, her gaze sharper and colder than I’d ever seen before.
“She’s not getting away with this.”
Those six words were only just loud enough for Tama-chan, Mimimi, and me to hear, and the terrifying fury behind them could not have been further from her persona as the perfect heroine.
“…Aoi?” Mimimi said, obviously surprised by this new side of Hinami. Hinami ignored her.
“Forget it,” she snapped.
“…What’s wrong?” Tama-chan asked, looking at Hinami with a hint of fear in her eyes.
“I’m fine. I’ll take care of it,” she said flatly. That was all.
Gradually, Izumi, Takei, and Nakamura gathered around, and Hinami returned to her usual self. She and Mimimi explained what had happened. Mimimi had bought matching charms for everyone, so they were very important and represented how much they cared about one another. And then Tama-chan’s had been destroyed. As they listened, they became more and more upset.
“That…is really bad,” Mizusawa said, looking unusually angry.
“…Erika went too far.” Izumi bit her lip and gripped the hem of her skirt in frustration.
“Tama…! I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them…!” Takei said, stifling his voice and looking down like he believed it was all his fault.
“What the hell was she thinking…?” Nakamura frowned and glared at the classroom door.
“Thanks, guys… I’m sorry.”
Tama-chan wiped her tears and tried to put on a more neutral expression; her attempt at a brave front only made us feel worse.
Izumi stared at the ripped charm. “Hey, you know what? I’ve been knitting lately. I can repair a little rip like this! I’ll fix it!”
She made an okay sign with her fingers.
“…Okay, thanks. Would you, please?”
Tama-chan smiled, although tears still pooled in her eyes.
“Of course! Leave it to me!” Izumi chirped, sitting down next to Tama-chan and peering at the charm. Probably to fill up the silence, she started muttering about how exactly she was going to fix it.
Mizusawa watched and then gave her a teasing look in an attempt to lighten the mood a little. “You sure you can handle that? Aren’t you kind of a klutz?”
“It’s no problem! I even learned how to make a pocket tissue cover lately!” she answered in a loud, cheerful voice.
Mizusawa cackled. “Isn’t that like baby’s first knitting project?”
“Uh-oh…my secret’s out!”
She glared at Mizusawa. Their back-and-forth was pretty shallow, but it still managed to loosen up the tension a little.
“For now…should we head home?” Hinami asked, resting her hand on Tama-chan’s shoulder.
“Yeah, let’s get going!” Mimimi said, smiling at Tama-chan.
“Okay…thanks. Yeah, let’s go.”
Tama-chan stood up slowly. Mizusawa watched, sighed, then slapped Hinami and Mimimi on the back.
“Okay, ladies, I’ll leave it up to you two today.”
“…Yeah,” I chimed. It was probably best to leave Tama-chan with the two of them. Izumi nodded enthusiastically, and we all saw them off. After that, everyone else went to practice, and I headed home.
* * *
The next day, before class, Mizusawa and I gathered around Mimimi’s desk to ask her how Tama-chan seemed after they left.
“…I think it was a huge shock for her. I’ve never seen her like that before,” she said dejectedly. Mizusawa nodded.
“Doesn’t surprise me. They really crossed a line.” In place of his usual soft tone, anger shaded his words.
“Did she seem like she was feeling any better?” I asked.
Mimimi tilted her head. “When we were walking home, she was smiling and saying she was fine, but I felt like she was faking it…”
“Hmm…”
I looked down. Tama-chan was definitely putting on a strong front so she wouldn’t hurt Mimimi anymore. She had that kind of strength and kindness.
“For now, let’s all stick by her side. Given what happened yesterday, we don’t know what they’ll do,” Mizusawa said, looking around the classroom. Konno and Tama-chan weren’t there yet, but the air was more strained than usual.
Just then, I noticed Hinami talking to Akiyama, like she had been all last week. I didn’t know what she was up to, but after what had happened the day before, it was unusual that she wasn’t speaking with us.
The whole day, we protected Tama-chan, and aside from her decoy mechanical pencil leads, nothing of hers was damaged by the end of the day.
And then after school, it happened.
* * *
After our final homeroom of the day, everyone was chatting and enjoying their newfound freedom. Konno came back into the classroom from the bathroom or something with a couple of her friends, walked over to her desk, and went pale.
“What? What the hell?”
The outraged voice of the queen rang through the classroom, commanding everyone’s attention.
“Who broke these?”
Her tone was extremely domineering. Those three, short words were so intense that they ripped right through the casual conversation.
Konno was gripping a case of mechanical pencil lead in her hands.
In other words, someone had broken her lead. I couldn’t see the details, but judging from her voice, the evidence pointed to a deliberate attack rather than an accident.
But who had done it?
Konno glared around the classroom. Everyone was watching silently to see what would happen. Finally, her eyes landed on one person.
“Natsubayashi.”
Tama-chan’s eyes went round with surprise, and she paused for a moment as her mind worked. I know her training was to thank for the fact that she didn’t immediately explode. She was probably searching for the words and tone that wouldn’t escalate the situation. The air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
But it wasn’t Tama-chan who broke the silence. It was someone in the middle of the room.
“Hanabi was with me until a second ago.”
Another top-level girl. Not the queen, but the perfect heroine. Hinami. Konno turned slowly toward her, taking her in.
“…What? Why are you getting involved?”
Konno didn’t try to hide her anger at all. Hinami was smiling softly, but her eyes said she could not care less.
“Because I can prove that it wasn’t Hanabi who did it. That’s all,” she said in a leisurely tone.
“…Hmm.”
The verbal rally alternated between cold on one side and warm but extremely confident on the other.
“I mean, are you sure someone did that on purpose? Maybe they just fell.”
“If they could take themselves out of the case and fall, then you might be right.”
Every time the fireworks exploded, the mood in the classroom grew tenser. With good reason. The two of them had essentially stayed out of each other’s territory up to this point. They were the two most important figures in class, and they shared the top spot. Now they were suddenly facing off.
“Anyway, it wasn’t Hanabi. Lots of other people saw her with me.”
“…Is that so?”
Finally, Konno looked away, maybe because she’d given up, and sighed grumpily. Then she turned back toward the classroom, her gaze crawling over each student like a snake until finally, it stopped. This time, she was glaring at Akiyama.
“Then it must have been you.”
“…What?” Akiyama sounded surprised and angry at the same time.
“Don’t play dumb. I’m saying you did it.”
“Then who?”
“Why are you asking me? I have no idea.”
“What’s with your attitude?” Konno frowned.
“Because you’re accusing me of something without any proof? …Come on.”
Akiyama sounded hesitant and scared, but also like she was trying to psyche herself up for a fight. Konno tapped the floor angrily and glared intimidatingly. Akiyama shrank in on herself a bit, but she didn’t look away.
The showdown felt slightly unnatural to me. As far as I’d heard, Akiyama was picked on more than anyone else in Konno’s group. She was the one who had to do the dirty jobs. Now for some reason, despite her fear, she was fighting back hard against Konno. Someone must be backing her up.
“Proof? What’s that supposed to mean? Anyway, you’ve been acting weird since last week.”
Akiyama raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What do you mean, ‘weird’?”
“You haven’t been getting along with us. You’ve been hanging out with other people, haven’t you?”
I’m sure she meant Hinami. After all, the two of them were together all of last week. I suspected she was up to something, but I never managed to solve the puzzle. Then today, Akiyama was taking more of a stand than usual, almost like she had backup now. Plus, there was everything I’d learned about her position from Mizusawa. Hinami’s plan was coming partly into focus.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Akiyama was playing dumb now.
I wasn’t sure how accurately Hinami predicted the current situation. But if anyone was supporting Akiyama, it was definitely her.
What I still didn’t know was how, exactly, or why. I doubt she’d do something as childish as have Akiyama break Konno’s pencil leads for revenge. Then what?
“I mean, I can do what I want, can’t I?” Akiyama said, looking down and sounding slightly panicked. Perhaps seeing an opening, Konno laughed derisively.
“Oh, you can, huh? You can’t handle getting teased, so you think you’ll just move over to their group? And then you’ll get your stupid little revenge? God, how dumb are you? Yeah, I can see exactly what you’re up to, so watch yourself.” She took the offensive, giving Akiyama a haughty, hate-filled smile.
Akiyama glared silently at Konno for a moment. I could see the hatred and anger in her eyes as she appeared to come to a decision. She smiled back derisively at Konno.
“You’re the one who looks like a stupid middle schooler in that black off-shoulder thing you always wear.”
The classroom went silent. I didn’t think the tension could get any worse, but I was wrong. Izumi covered her mouth with both hands in complete shock.
Konno bore down on Akiyama like some switch had just been flipped inside her. “What did you just say?”
Her voice was filled with a different kind of anger than before. I could see it in her face, too—it was something like urgency. But even though Akiyama glanced away a couple of times, she didn’t fold. Her next words were like a fan building up the weakening flames inside her.
“…I said, whenever you wear that off-shoulder thing, you look like a stupid middle schooler. And…you’re bad at putting on lashes. Right now, they look super fake.” Akiyama pointed at her own eyes.
“You’d better shut your mouth!” Konno hissed, taking another step toward Akiyama. And then she pounced.
“Ahhh!”
Akiyama lost her balance and hit the desk behind her with a bang. The pens and pencils sitting on top of it went flying. She pressed her hand to her right eye and crumpled forward at the waist. Konno must have shoved her finger right into her eye.
“Shit…”
Konno floundered for a second. Maybe because she guessed what had happened, she sputtered in panic. Based on her reaction, I didn’t think she meant to hurt Akiyama that badly. She’d probably just reacted impulsively after everything Akiyama said.
“A-are you okay…?” one of Konno’s followers asked, crouching next to Akiyama. “Erika, that was too far…”
She said it softly, but unmistakably.
That was the trigger for the mood to start shifting.
It was very simple. Up to this point, Konno had limited her actions to things no one could criticize her for. But she’d just crossed the line. I remembered something Izumi had told me about Konno.
Erika was super picky about her clothes and makeup, she’d said.
Akiyama had aimed her attack right where it hurt the most.
I realized something else. Nothing made the proud Konno angrier than if someone she viewed as beneath her mocked her for the things she was most sensitive about. It wasn’t surprising at all that she’d lashed out.
The question was, why had someone as low-ranking as Akiyama been able to hit Erika’s most vulnerable spot? It was unnatural—but totally possible if someone else had planned it all out for her.
Someone like Hinami, for example.
I thought back to her mysterious maneuvering. What had she and Akiyama been talking about? Maybe they’d been badmouthing Erika to set up the current situation. What if Hinami had manipulated the mood within their little group to help Akiyama criticize Konno’s clothes and fake eyelashes? Before, Akiyama had been subject to the mood of Konno’s group, so she’d accepted Konno’s standards wholesale for what was cool and what wasn’t. But now Hinami had given her an outside perspective, a new mood—a new standard for judging. That would explain why she was able to criticize Konno so harshly.
I thought about what was under Hinami’s mask. About her malice, and the anxiety I’d had about her recently. If everything had come together in today’s incident, then I was sure Hinami had orchestrated that moment.
She had lured Konno into going too far.
And the truth was, that one moment was now quietly lowering the class’s opinion of Konno. A buzz was going around the class, and people were looking at her accusingly.
“Um, Mika…,” Konno began hesitantly. Maybe she was planning to apologize; she was definitely at fault here. And if she had a good sense for keeping the mood favorable to herself, like Mizusawa said, then apologizing at this point was completely possible. Plus, she still had no proof Akiyama had even broken her pencil leads. This was still a case of infighting. She’d probably be wise to apologize humbly.
But just then, something happened.
Someone fired another shot, aimed right at her moment of vulnerability.
“You should apologize to her.”
Hinami’s words were perfectly neutral. No frills, completely fair. Just a simple, well-justified request.
But instantly, reflexively, Konno shouted back. “What?! Did you even hear what she said to me?!”
As soon as she said it, Konno gave a start, and her face crumpled slightly.
Still squatting, Akiyama scowled up at her. “…What the hell? You’re unbelievable.”
She couldn’t have sounded more pissed off. Konno had only made a minor mistake, but anyone watching could tell. She’d left herself wide-open.
“No, it’s just…”
Konno scrambled for an excuse. Her voice was shaky. She’d let her emotions get the better of her and made a strategic mistake.
Hinami watched the scene, cold and calculating. She took in the movements of Konno’s eyes, the angle of her body, and her expression. Hinami’s gaze was like a cold flame searching for the perfect opening to overcome and destroy her.
Most likely, Hinami had maliciously lured Konno into making a mistake. But our classmates would never suspect it, because they didn’t know Hinami’s true nature.
The mood of the class was gradually moving in a single direction. Konno must have realized it, because her gaze wavered slightly in panic. I didn’t think any of us had seen her this weak before.
And then there was another short phrase, aimed straight at her newly exposed weakness.
“Erika, I can’t believe you just said that.”
It was Hinami, scolding her. Her words contained only the tiniest amount of censure, and they only lasted a second or two. They weren’t very powerful in themselves, but they were more than enough to demonstrate that it was now acceptable to criticize Konno.
“I can see why you’re upset, but why can’t you even say you’re sorry? That’s not right.”
Konno’s lips trembled slightly. Hinami’s scolding was clearly justified, an appeal to both logic and emotion that pushed the mood in the exact direction she wanted. But before Konno could find the perfect retort, the monster that was group solidarity delivered its verdict. The muddy stream swept over her.
“…Yeah, that was a shitty thing to do.”
It was the girl from Konno’s group who had been crouching beside Akiyama.
“I’ve gotta say, Erika was totally in the wrong this time,” another member of her group said scathingly, staring straight at her.
“!”
Konno’s lips trembled. As far as I knew, that was the first time either of them had openly opposed her. Most likely, Konno’s harassment had caused so much discomfort that stress had started building up. Or maybe it was all the resentment created by the unfair balance Konno maintained that just barely prevented rebellion. Whatever it was, all of it exploded in that one moment.
“…I’m with you there.”
Next was Tachibana from the basketball team, another actor stepping into the carefully orchestrated scenario. That was the spark for the icy air to slowly but certainly overtake Konno and carry her toward the bottom of the valley.
“Yeah, like…ugh.”
“Can’t she even say sorry?”
The negative feelings spread like a disease, malice breeding malice, until greed and desire coated in the language of justice bore down on Konno. And at the root of it all was Hinami.
Her skill and hatred sent ice through my spine. I remembered that indecipherable look in her eyes all those times we had talked about Tama-chan. The class was like a puppet theater that she manipulated without moving a finger. Instead, she manipulated the marionette strings with her words. And now the puppet master was watching Konno with a hint of sorrow.
She was the final boss, the demon queen herself, wearing the skin of the heroine.
“Can I say something?” Tachibana asked the class in general. Everyone slowly looked toward him as he stood near the door at the back of the classroom. He leaned lazily against the wall and fiddled with his hair. “You shouldn’t hit people, y’know?” he said, imitating Konno’s cool-girl tone.
Every time Konno had argued with Tama-chan, she had used those very words as a surface-level excuse to imply Tama-chan was in the wrong. The irony was bitter.
About a third of the class laughed.
It wasn’t a lot, but for Konno, who usually wasn’t the subject of put-downs, it was shocking enough. She glared at Tachibana, although not with her usual ferocity.
“What? That was an accident. You think that actually counts as hitting her?”
Konno was taking an aggressive stand against the crushing mood. She had no chance of winning, but she probably didn’t have any other choice. Or maybe she didn’t know how to do anything else.
“I could say the same thing to her.”
“So true.”
“Doesn’t that mean Natsubayashi didn’t hit her, either?”
One after another, the knifelike words sliced into her. Hinami was definitely the one who brought forth the onslaught, but I don’t think she gave them the knives.
I think she gave them permission to use their own.
The frustration had been building up from the start. But Konno had used her prerogative as a top-level member of the class hierarchy, her naturally intimidating aura, and her ability to manipulate people with her words and actions to suppress rebellion from the masses. She used her position to be unfair, but it was always within certain limits. Even if she obviously intended to hurt people, she never did anything she couldn’t make up a believable excuse for. Therefore, she was never forced into a situation where she had to apologize. That’s how she’d gotten away with harassing Hirabayashi-san and Tama-chan.
Essentially, she knew how to be unfair without crossing a line. Like Mizusawa said, that was probably why she’d been able to maintain her position as class queen for so long.
But that line had just been crossed.
The equilibrium she’d maintained for more than a year, ever since the start of high school, had crumbled. The only thing left to do was watch silently as the torrent overflowed its banks and washed her away. Or at least, that’s what should’ve happened.
“I think an apology is called for, no?”
Hinami wasn’t done talking. She directed her question at Nakamura, who was standing next to her.
There was something odd about the way she moved. She shifted her gaze very slightly and subtly changed her posture and the movement of her arms. If you hadn’t been following her with your eyes, you would have missed the tiny change.
Given how clear and easy-to-understand her expressions and gestures normally were, it was a very restrained adjustment toward Nakamura. Apparently, she was giving her all in this act this time.
“Yeah. I mean, come on, Erika. All this crap lately has been your fault. Just apologize,” Nakamura said. I could hear how irritated he was with Konno.
Konno gasped audibly. Her expression was close to anguish, like a fatal arrow had just pierced her chest. It was impossible to look away.
That’s when I realized Hinami had set another trap.
“…What?” Konno said.
The harsh situation was starting to pull her under.
Konno was still looking at Akiyama, the first one to rebel. She’d glanced at Tachibana for a second when he made his ironic comment, but then she’d returned her focus to Akiyama. I’m guessing her first experience as the target of open antipathy was too much for her, so she naturally kept her eyes on an easier opponent to fight. As a bottom-tier character, I’d had similar experiences quite a few times. There’s nothing scarier than people coming at you to kick you while you’re down.
In which case, when Hinami said to Nakamura, “I think an apology is called for, no?” Konno could have very well thought she was talking to her. Because like I said, if you hadn’t been watching Hinami very closely, her gestures would have been too subtle to pick up.
In other words, I wouldn’t be surprised if Konno thought Nakamura had jumped in with his own comment, backing Hinami up without any prompting from her. And when Konno gasped in shock and stopped breathing, I assumed that was what was going through her mind.
This misunderstanding left Konno wide-open; if Hinami went in for the kill with another combo of words and body language, I would be convinced. Her determination was as twisted as it was immovable, and her strategy was as abnormal as it was clever. What in the world was Hinami thinking and feeling at that moment? I couldn’t see anything except her perfect-heroine mask.
“Mika would still accept an apology, right?” she said, delivering the follow-up punch. It didn’t escape me that this was the exact same strategy she’d used a minute ago. Just as she said the word right, she turned very subtly toward Izumi, who was standing to her right, indicating whom she was talking to through that tiny gesture.
…Yup.
Anyone who was watching Hinami would know whom she was talking to. But to Konno, it would sound like Hinami was scolding her directly. The sleight of hand took my breath away.
“She’s right, Erika. Everyone knows you just lost your temper for a second. Why don’t you both apologize, and we’ll call it even?”
Konno gasped again. That’s when I finally grasped the full picture of what Hinami was trying to do. Another chill ran down my spine as the extent of her hatred dawned on me.
Izumi’s words had been warm and kind, rooted in consideration for Konno’s situation and state of mind. Even though Konno was clearly at fault here, Izumi had gone out of her way to say they could both apologize. If her words had reached Konno untainted, Konno would probably have let Izumi’s kindness move her, and the situation would have been resolved.
“…What is with you guys?”
But Izumi’s words were poisoned by the demon queen’s reflect spell.
Konno glared at Nakamura and Izumi in turn, looking not unlike a demon herself. Then she erupted in a barrage of her true, pitch-black feelings.
“You’ve both been so stuck-up ever since you started dating.”
Nakamura stared at her, expressionless. Izumi widened her eyes in shock.
“E-Erika…?” she stuttered nervously.
I’d been doing my best to observe the whole class, and I was aware of Hinami’s hatred. I knew exactly what was going on here.
Hinami had talked first to Nakamura and then to Izumi, getting them both to agree with her and suggest that Konno apologize. That was all. But to Konno, Hinami had directed a comment at her, Nakamura had jumped on the bandwagon on his own, and Izumi had piled on, too. Meaning her crush, Nakamura, had criticized her, and then Nakamura’s girlfriend, Izumi, had stepped in to agree with him. From her perspective, they were attacking her as a couple.
Hinami’s illusion was complete.
There was the guy she liked and the girl who had stolen him. Konno already felt inferior, and now they were banding together to tell her what to do. Just be nice and apologize. I’d never had a real relationship, and even I could guess the level of stress that setup would induce.
“Come on, everyone agrees it’s the right thing to do,” the demon queen said, underlining the misleading word everyone.
Konno scowled. She may be the “queen,” but she was still just a high school girl, and Hinami was tugging at her romantic feelings until she could rip out her heart.
I shuddered with genuine fear at the cruelty of a truly pissed-off Aoi Hinami.
“Why don’t you two get a room? This is disgusting.”
Konno’s tone was high-handed and harsh, but everyone was probably thinking about her sudden jealousy of Nakamura and Izumi. I bet that was exactly what Hinami wanted.
“What are you talking about? They didn’t do anything wrong,” Hinami said. An irritated look spread over Konno’s face. She stood up from the desk she’d been sitting on and kicked the leg.
“…Seriously, you two are so pathetic. Just ’cause you’re dating, you think it’s cool to hold hands and gang up on people,” she snapped in an attempt to get a rise out of them. Her tone hadn’t changed, and neither had her attitude; she was being just as disparaging as she’d been through this whole exchange. On the surface, it was the same old Konno everyone was used to.
But the whole class was stunned by what they were seeing.
“God, what the hell? Just leave me alone!”
Tears were falling from Erika Konno’s eyes.
“You can date whoever you want. I don’t care. But don’t go around rubbing it in everyone’s faces. It’s fucking gross!”
The dam of her emotions had burst wide-open; she thought they were scolding her spontaneously, as a couple. If she were right about that, her irritation would have made sense.
But from the perspective of anyone who had noticed Hinami’s actions—which was most of the kids in class—Konno had gotten so emotional that she’d suddenly developed a victim complex. What else could they think? To them, her tears were shameful and ugly.
She was dancing in the palm of the demon queen.
“What are you, twelve?” she said.
Same tone, same attitude. Even as tears were pouring down her cheeks, she stubbornly clung to the same high-handed act. She just kept on attacking, like she had no idea she was crying, like she couldn’t know. Like she wouldn’t let anyone mention it. She was so strong, and so weak.
The whole class was at a loss for words as they stared at this strange picture: the same Konno they knew, in tears.
“…Umm…”
That was when Hinami stepped in again. Erika turned her damp eyes toward her.
“I understand how you must feel, but Yuzu and Shuji didn’t do anything wrong. They just want you two to make up,” she said slowly, her voice tinged with sadness. The perfect heroine, the lone, neutral figure trying to calm a rocky situation—she was both the firefighter and the arsonist, acting with meticulously calculated enmity. First, she had orchestrated Konno’s misunderstanding, and now she was gently urging her to be reasonable.
Konno glared at Hinami, refusing to even acknowledge the tears falling from her eyes, let alone wipe them away.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she growled through a sob.
“Recently…I feel like you’ve been letting your crush get the better of you and losing perspective,” Hinami parried, accenting the word crush just faintly enough to avoid sounding sarcastic.
“…!”
Konno blushed. Her tears, which had started to subside, flooded out again.
“I totally get it—I’m the same way sometimes. But try to calm down for a minute,” Hinami said, like she was pacifying a child. She appeared as kind as Mother Mary, but there was no question in my mind. This was a spiteful public shaming. Konno hadn’t started crying again out of anger or frustration. She was crying from embarrassment.
Hinami’s cruel method made use of the soft spots in her victim’s heart. Her knife was sharp and forged purely to inflict maximum harm. Even if she was mad at Konno for hurting Tama-chan, there was something awful about what she was choosing to do.
“But I don’t…!”
Konno tried to argue back, but she trailed off midsentence. She just stood there, unable to do anything except look down and try not to wipe her tears away.
Honestly speaking, considering everything Konno herself had done up to this point, Hinami’s verbal assault might have been justifiable until about midway. After all, Konno had jumped into the fight head-on, and that was her choice. She was responsible for her own wounds, up to a point.
But for Hinami to make such a show of her superior strength, to use her words to carve out her opponent’s heart so viciously, to make her cry in front of everyone? That was clearly a TKO. Any more would be too much, right?
“Hinami.”
I walked up to her from behind and subtly poked her in the back. Knowing her, this should be enough to get my point across. When she glanced back at me, I looked straight at her to make sure she got the hint. If she still didn’t quit, I had another strategy. Lately, since going rogue, I felt like I’d used up all my move PP. Regardless, I could still use struggle and flail like an idiot if I had to. Like that one time I flew off the handle, the backlash would be severe, but I didn’t have a choice right now.
Hinami let out a breath, relaxed her shoulders, and clapped her hands.
“Anyway, let’s drop the subject for now. Sorry for saying all that. I don’t think we can have a rational conversation right now. Let’s talk about it again when everyone has calmed down.”
Guess she took my advice without a struggle. She continued in a lighter tone than before, rebooting the mood a bit.
“Wipe your tears, okay? I think I have a tissue…,” she said, searching her pockets. But she didn’t seem to have one, so she glanced over at Nakamura.
“Sorry, Shuji, can I get a tissue from you?”
“Oh yeah, sure.”
Abnormal merged back into normal. We were all still a little stunned, but Nakamura obeyed Hinami’s request, stuck his hand in his pocket, and pulled something out.
Right then, I realized something.
The flames of Hinami’s hatred weren’t yet extinguished.
“Hey, wa—!”
But my realization came too late. Her pretense of wrapping this up was so natural; the conversation was perfectly smooth. Before I could stop it, Hinami’s hatred slashed into Konno one more time.
Nakamura extended his hand not to Hinami, but directly to Konno. Then he looked down at it with a surprised expression. Since he’d simply gone along with her request, I guess he hadn’t had time to think about what he was doing, or what exactly was in his hand.
He was holding out a packet of tissues in a hand-knit cover.
Anyone would know immediately he hadn’t made it himself. So who had? The answer was obvious. And when Konno saw it, what would she think?
“…!”
For a few seconds, she froze, then her expression contorted with sorrow.
She swatted his hand away roughly.
The packet of tissues flew out onto the floor. Everyone in the classroom turned their gazes onto the tissues, lying on the floor like garbage.
“What?” “What just happened?” “Why’d she do that?”
An air of disgust and confusion was rising. Some people probably couldn’t see the tissue cover or didn’t realize what it meant. To them, it must look like Konno was sneering at Hinami and Nakamura’s kindness.
“No, I just…”
Konno parted her lips slightly, searching for words. But a male voice interrupted her attempt to explain.
“This is ridiculous.”
I’m sure she acted out of self-defense, in the best way she could. Maybe she wanted to get away from that symbol of their relationship as quickly as possible, or maybe it was hard for her to even look at the thing. But just like before, her defiance had been emotional and sudden—and nearly as unavoidable as an act of God.
But the antipathy of the class had already been ignited, and this was enough of an offense to send it boiling over.
“I always thought she was kind of a bitch.”
“I know, right? It’s like she thinks being queen bee means she can do whatever she wants.”
“Does she think everything has to go her way or something?”
They weren’t talking to each other like before—now it felt more like each student was attacking Konno directly.
The sharply honed words were like knives.
“So the guy she likes gets together with another girl, and she takes it out on someone else… Like geez, get over yourself.”
“And now she’s crying for sympathy points.”
She’d been pretending she wasn’t crying, but everyone could see it. Now it was becoming a part of their hatred. That was the nail in the coffin that labeled her a “loser” in the eyes of the sneering, snickering, superior students all around her.
“…”
Konno was shivering slightly. She had no words left. The monster of mood had given rise to a poisonous judgment: She was labeled a loser, an “uncool” human, a bad person. She had nowhere left to run. It was mob justice.
“Well, you deserve it, though.”
That one came from Akiyama. She wasn’t even trying to hide the blatant verbal attack. The new rules were now so firmly established that even a cruel act of aggression was deemed “good.”
This mood, which was evident in how Konno was labeled as “bad,” added ominous teeth to the get-out-of-jail-free card that Hinami had provided.
Yes, it was all very simple.
Konno had been banished.
Hinami had manipulated the monster of mood, led it in a certain direction, and then set it free. Its fangs were now sunk deep in Konno’s neck.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” Akiyama said innocently. The smile on her lips was quietly cruel, but fresh and unrestrained. And then, as she walked toward the door, she kicked Konno’s desk way harder than Konno ever kicked the desks of her victims.
Akiyama’s kick was nothing like an accidental bump as she walked past. She did a windup and kicked as hard as she could. It was pure violence, with no need for clever cover-ups.
Konno’s desk tilted dramatically to one side, and the pencil case and writing implements on top of it scattered onto the floor. The class watched and giggled. Not everyone did, but the group reaction was enough to crush any attempt at resistance on her part.
Konno glared at Akiyama, but she couldn’t do anything else. Akiyama glared right back.
To me, this was a decisive moment. Akiyama’s gaze was clearly more powerful than the class queen Konno’s. But the fangs weren’t done biting.
“Oh, I’m coming with you!” another former member of Konno’s group said, kicking one of her mechanical pencils into the distance. I heard some people laugh. The pencil ricocheted off a couple of desks and came to a halt by the wall next to the door.
The group was out of control. And the flag they were running under was the “righteous cause” of punishing the class dictator Erika Konno. As long as they had their get-out-of-jail-free cards, “good” was defined as attacking Konno, and no one could stop them—
—or so I, and probably Hinami, thought.
All of us, except one.
“Hey! Quit ganging up on her!”
The whole class paused in surprise at that bright, honest, righteous, and purely confident voice.
As for me, I was in total shock. That voice absorbed every drop of my consciousness. It was so strong, standing up for what she thought was right. Just like always.
Tama-chan was standing still as a statue in the center of the class, looking around at our classmates as they attacked Konno. She was reprimanding them in the cheerful tone she’d practiced so hard.
“If you do the same thing back just because she was doing it, you’re as bad as her!”
It was an incredible thing to do.
For the past few weeks, she’d been on the receiving end of Konno’s worst harassment. She’d even had a symbol of her closest friendships destroyed. All the same, when the crime boss turned into the victim, she looked to her own standards of right and wrong, and she didn’t hesitate to call out the whole class because of it.
That was Tama-chan’s strength.
Everyone stared at her in surprise. I mean, this was basically unthinkable. Even kids who hadn’t ever been Konno’s targets found her offensive in some way. But Tama-chan, who’d had her desk kicked, her things broken, her special charm ripped open—who’d suffered daily—she was the one who spoke out against the class’s persecution and protected Konno.
The class went quiet for a moment, and then it erupted with chatter.
Maybe all these people who believed in a made-up definition of “good” wouldn’t understand Tama-chan’s extreme strength. Maybe they’d brush her off as a girl who failed to read the mood, like they did until recently.
But her words came from her core, the part that didn’t change even when she created vulnerabilities or altered the way she talked. The part that was more righteous and honest than anyone else.
No matter what anyone said to her or how they treated her, I made up my mind to stand behind her. With that decision in my heart, I watched the scene unfold. Which was when it happened.
“After all, tamarrow is another day! So let’s just start fresh!”
She smiled naively, like she had a playful plot up her sleeve.
“Y’know, so tamarrow will be better!”
She thrust her pointer finger into the air so dramatically that it seemed kinda silly. She was leaving herself completely vulnerable.
There was a moment of silence.
From one corner of the classroom, I heard a feminine laugh. When I turned around, I saw it was a girl in Hinami’s group, whom Tama-chan had become friends with through Mimimi. Her hand was pressed over her mouth like she was in shock or overwhelmed.
“…Hanabi-chan really is incredible, isn’t she?”
Her words, a mixture of respect and surprise, spread outward in quiet ripples. These ripples gradually expanded as if they were taking over the water’s surface.
“…Ah-ha-ha. She really is. I wasn’t ready for that. But she might be right.”
That was another girl Tama-chan had befriended after her charm-school sessions. She gave a bewildered laugh, like someone had just woken her up by throwing cold water on her.
And that wasn’t all.
“Well, if the main victim is saying we should stop…I guess we better stop,” a guy in the jock group said with a wry smile.
The comments, honest and fair, were spreading through the class like waves from Tama-chan’s heart.
It was a sight to see.
The core of what Tama-chan was saying hadn’t changed since before Konno started harassing her. She didn’t waver an inch. Her essence was exactly as it always had been.
But until very recently, her message hadn’t reached anyone. Now it was reverberating through the whole class with so much strength and directness that it was hard to believe.
It gave me chills.
She’d made herself more vulnerable, learned to talk more cheerfully, and gotten some charm. She’d made an effort to be more accepting of other people, take an interest in them, and break down the walls she’d built. She’d challenged herself to work on her weaknesses and genuinely tried to change herself even though she believed she didn’t have to.
All of that bore fruit in this one moment.
The one thing she never changed was that all-important core at the center of her heart. But by adjusting the way she communicated it, her attitude toward others, and the influence that attitude had on her relationships, she could now relay that part of herself.
I’d never have been able to help her achieve that goal on my own. We’d reached this incredible moment by talking together, thinking together, and staying strong together.
I think that for Tama-chan, for the class, for me, and I’m pretty sure for Konno, too, this was the end point—all-embracing, all-forgiving, all-accepting.
I started to hear astonished giggles spreading through the class, like the thread of tension had just broken. When I looked around, everyone was relaxed and full of affection for the terribly vulnerable Tama-chan.
My eyes met hers. I smiled slightly, sending her a silent congratulations as her mentor. She returned my smile with a peace sign and a huge grin that lit up her face like the sun. Where did all this charm come from? Once again, she’d pulled far ahead of me.
The mood in class was becoming more peaceful and less poisonous.
And Konno tore it open.
Snatching up her bag, which had fallen onto the floor, she stomped out of the room without picking up any of the pencils and erasers that had scattered around and without making eye contact with anyone.
“Erika!”
Izumi chased after Konno, who had turned virtually the whole class against her. All the other members of her group just watched without moving. There was a very brief silence after the commotion. Then everything gradually relaxed again.
“…You guys are incredible,” Mizusawa said, looking vaguely overwhelmed. He was glancing back and forth between Hinami and Tama-chan.
“Thank you, Aoi!” Akiyama ran to Hinami, grabbed her hands, and pumped them up and down.
“No worries. Is your eye okay?”
“I think so. She just poked me a little,” she said, blinking and looking up, down, left, and right to check before giving an Izumi-style “okay!” Eventually, she looked awkwardly at Tama-chan.
“…I’m sorry, Natsubayashi.”
She met Tama-chan’s gaze fleetingly, like she was battling guilt. The other members of Konno’s group followed suit by gathering around and apologizing. This was the cease-fire agreement at the end of the war.
“…”
Tama-chan didn’t brush it off with a casual don’t worry about it, but she didn’t punish them, either. She just looked at Akiyama with clear but solemn eyes and said, “Okay.”
That one word and the firm nod she made were filled with meaning and warmth. With that, the tension unspooled even more; everyone was either apologizing to Tama-chan, praising her, or stammering in dazed surprise. I noticed Hinami slowly walking up to her.
“Hanabi, thank you… I don’t think I could have dealt with that on my own.”
It was so frighteningly superficial. It was another illusion of the demon queen, lamenting her failure against the violent explosion she herself had ignited. But her words were so earnest that no one would ever have guessed the truth.
Hinami smiled kindly at Tama-chan. I’d been planning to join them, but as I listened to their conversation, the urge evaporated. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know about Hinami’s dark side—and I didn’t want to.
“Thank you, too, Aoi… Thank you for fighting for me.”
Tama-chan looked back at Hinami’s face, as direct as she was with everything, and Hinami returned her gaze tenderly. Hinami smiled gently again and tilted her head slowly to one side.
“It was nothing. You were doing all the fighting.”
“…Thanks,” Tama-chan mumbled, and her smile grew sad, no doubt thinking about all the harassment she’d put up with. Then she looked down and sighed. Unusually for her, she was quiet when she continued, and she was staring at the floor.
“I didn’t want to see you do that, Aoi.”
She looked up and stared Hinami straight in the face. I’d never seen that expression from her before, filled with both anxiety and determination. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
She didn’t want to see her do that.
Hinami was still probably burning with black flames inside, and Tama-chan must have sensed her hatred. Hinami looked back at her blankly and paused for a natural interval, like she was trying to remember.
“Do anything like what?”
There was no sign of hesitation; Hinami was feigning perfect ignorance as she looked into Tama-chan’s eyes. The kids sitting near them shared a glance, confused by this mysterious, halting conversation. After a few seconds, Tama-chan looked away, glancing at the classroom door.
“I really didn’t,” she said quietly and left it at that. Then she added, with all the charm she’d practiced so hard, “Welp, I better get going!” With that, she slipped past Hinami and left the room.
I was stunned. What did that conversation mean? Had Tama-chan sensed Hinami’s hatred or not? Where was Tama-chan going right now by herself? There was too much to think about. I didn’t know what I should do.
I noticed someone standing next to me and felt a hand pounding my shoulder.
“You’re slow on the uptake today, Leader. Knowing you, I thought you’d follow her. And the sooner the better, right?”
It was Mizusawa, giving me a sidelong glance as he raised one eyebrow and gave me his trademark smirk. Why was he so damn handsome? Anyway, his comment cleared my mind.
“Oh right. Might surprise you, but I operate on instinct.”
“I know you do.”
We turned away from Hinami’s group and headed out of the classroom. I heard Mimimi calling to us.
“Wait a second! We’ll come with you!”
Mizusawa and I looked at each other, then back at the classroom. Mizusawa gave a cool wave and answered casually.
“Sorry, Mimimi. This is Team Tomozaki business. You guys wait here.”
He said good-bye, and we started toward the shoe cupboard by the school entrance. I felt like I should say something before we left, too. Flustered, I called out the first thing that popped into my head.
“Um, leave this one to us!”
I tried to sound confident but ended up saying us instead of me. Although, I feel like being able to say us was a big step forward for me.
* * *
We caught up with Tama-chan while she was getting ready to change shoes.
“…Oh, hey, Tomozaki. Hey, Mizusawa.” Tama-chan smiled awkwardly when she recognized us.
“Hey, Tama-chan…,” I said softly.
She shook her head regretfully, then answered in a shaky voice.
“I—I made Aoi do something awful.”
At that moment, I knew whatever I was going to say wouldn’t have been right. A few minutes earlier, she’d said, “I didn’t want to see you do that, Aoi,” and then “I really didn’t.” I thought that meant Tama-chan had seen through to part of Hinami’s true nature, that she’d been disappointed. Given Tama-chan’s unbiased sincerity, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she guessed everything from that incident.
That’s what I thought. But I was wrong.
“I’m sure Aoi didn’t want to do that, but…”
“Tama-chan…”
She wasn’t disappointed. Most likely, she’d seen Hinami’s plotting against Konno and her sly, malicious attack during their showdown in class. She probably also realized just how cruel those actions were, and how warped Hinami’s determination was. Her honest heart and sense of justice were like a light breaking into Hinami’s darkness.
But more than that—more important than the awful darkness she’d seen—was the trust in Hinami that glowed powerfully within her.
“So you noticed it, too, huh, Tama? …That it was on purpose?” Mizusawa said, sighing and scratching his neck.
“Yeah, I think it all was on purpose. Aoi was genuinely mad.”
“…Yeah,” I said.
“She’s a mystery,” Mizusawa said, frowning.
Tama-chan nodded silently, while Mizusawa glanced at me. Huh?
“Anyway, Tama, you better go back to class for now. Everyone is worried about you.”
“…Okay. Sorry, guys. I know I made you worry, too.”
“Forget about it. Just say you were a little upset or something. And you probably shouldn’t mention anything about Hinami doing that on purpose.”
“Yeah, I won’t.”
“Okay, see you later,” Mizusawa said.
Tama-chan looked up at him questioningly. “What about you two?”
“I’ve gotta stop by the bathroom. You’re coming with me, right, Fumiya?” he said casually, throwing me another quick glance.
“Yeah, sure,” I said in a natural tone. He must want to talk about something.
“Oh, okay. See you later, then,” Tama-chan said and headed briskly toward the classroom. When we couldn’t hear her steps anymore, Mizusawa turned to me.
“My bet is that Tama’s half-right.” He wasn’t being very clear, but I got his point.
“…You mean about Hinami?”
“Yeah,” Mizusawa said, nodding like he always did. “…As I see it…”
“Yeah…?”
He gave me an unusually serious look.
“…I feel like I can see the parts of herself that she hides better than most people. The fake stuff, too,” he said, resting his hand on the shoe cabinet. “But you know even more about what she’s hiding than I do, don’t you?”
His gaze was so direct that I might even call it challenging.
“…Uh…”
I remembered something. Mizusawa was sharp. He always knew exactly what I was thinking, so he probably saw through Hinami’s secrets, too. Should I look away? Or would that be more suspicious? I had no idea what to do.
But before he could sniff out the truth, he shifted that searching gaze away from me and sighed.
“…Don’t worry about it. Even if you do know more than me, it just means she told you something she didn’t tell me. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you about it.”
“Mizusawa…”
He crossed his arms and glanced down for a second.
“You know I like her, right?” he said, looking me in the eye again. Even though he was the one laying his soul bare, his eyes were so intense, I felt like I might have to turn away.
“Yeah, I remember what you said on the trip.”
His look somehow became even more penetrating. It reminded me of Tama-chan’s.
“I’ve learned something from hanging out with you and Tama-chan lately. About how to say what I’m really thinking.”
“…Yeah?”
“So I’m going to say what I want to say right now. No BS.”
I nodded silently, returned his gaze steadily, and waited. When he continued, his expression was less cool than usual, and his voice was more emotional.
“I have feelings for Aoi. But what do you think of her?”
His words reached all the way to my core—to the outlines of emotions I had never experienced before, that didn’t even have a clear shape in my own mind.
What did Fumiya Tomozaki think of Aoi Hinami? How did he feel about her?
I dived inside myself, searching my own heart to express in concrete terms what I found there.
Mizusawa watched me silently. He wasn’t trying to read me. He was just waiting to hear what I would say. That’s why I decided to tell him what I was feeling in its rawest form.
“I…”
* * *
Mizusawa and I walked side by side toward the classroom, not saying a word. The sound of our shoes hitting the floor echoed coldly down the long, narrow hallway. Outside the windows, the leafless trees stood in a wintry line.
I was considering what Hinami had done that afternoon—how her actions made me feel, and the question Mizusawa had asked me so directly.
Hinami had been furious. But even in her rage, she put each piece in place with utter calm. Not everything could be nailed down without some ad-libbing, so I wasn’t sure how well it matched up with the scenario she’d constructed in her mind. But Hinami had nurtured Nakamura’s distaste for Konno by asking him not to see Izumi too often, and with that piece in play, she would have been able to respond flexibly to a range of conditions.
Which meant the cruel method she ended up using was probably something she had both hoped for and calculated in advance.
Perhaps, her strategy had been a little milder before Tama-chan’s haniwa charm was destroyed. But after that, she’d been resolved to wound Konno and use the class mood to tear her apart and send her to hell.
And if that was the case—I honestly couldn’t comprehend her.
If she planned all this out—if the heat of the moment wasn’t to blame—then there was a dark, deep chasm between us that I would never understand.
But maybe because I’d heard Tama-chan talk about her with such trust…
Or maybe because I trusted her myself as her faithful student…
Or maybe because we had a connection and an instinctive bond as nanashi and NO NAME…
Or maybe…because what I felt for her transcended all of it…
Even after seeing how cruel and heartless she could be…
…part of me believed the real Hinami wasn’t like that.
For the past few weeks, she’d been acting weird. I couldn’t help thinking her cruel actions were connected in some way to whatever was behind that weirdness.
Was it trust, or a bond, or instinct, or a guess? Speculation? Wishful thinking? Something else? I was so confused, I had no idea what the answer was. But I still wanted to figure out what wasn’t adding up and truly understand this person who had brought color to the game of life for me. And once I did, I wanted to keep moving forward. Those were my genuine feelings. And I guess all of that was my answer to Mizusawa’s question.
“What do I think of Hinami?”
“I think I want to see who she really is.”