4

And so begins the boys’ emotional roller coaster (with girls, too).

A few days had passed since the surge of consults had hit us.

The Service Club hadn’t done anything resembling work during that time, just giving Isshiki tidbits of advice when she occasionally came in to check things with us.

On the other hand, Isshiki was taking care of her job, as far as I could tell, and I caught sight of her after school many times in a continuous flurry of activity.

By the way, I also frequently sighted the vice president carrying a huge stack of documents while hanging his head and sighing, and Miss Secretary encouraging him.

You screwing around? Do your job, Vice Prez. Having a reputation for generally looking at guys with a harsh eye, hello, that’s me.

Anyway, it seemed the whole student council was busy with work on the day of, too. It was quite a bit different from that Christmas event.

The community center near the station was filled with young chattering voices. This was earlier than the arrival time on the schedule, but we were helping out with the event that day anyway—well, Yukinoshita was at least.

And so I’d trudged my way over to the community center. I actually hadn’t been there since Christmas, but nothing was going to change over such a short span of time. I parked my bicycle on the racks, and then three of us just strolled right into the community center like a trio of pros.

Inside, Isshiki and the other members of the student council were hard at work, bustling all over in preparation for the event.

As I was observing from the entrance, Isshiki noticed us and ambled on over. She was carrying a stack of papers in her arms. “Oh, heeey, it’s you guys! You’re early.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied casually instead of a proper greeting, and then Yukinoshita and Yuigahama behind me also popped their heads out.

“Hello, Isshiki.”

“Yahallooo! I was wondering if there was something we could help out with,” Yuigahama said.

Isshiki cocked her head. “Hmm. What can you help with…? Oh. Then here, please help me put these around. You can just stick them up by the entrance, so it’s, like, the details are basically up to you,” she said and handed over some hastily made B2-sized posters.

Well, I call them “posters,” but they were just handwritten notices scratched out in various colors of fat marker. Aside from the text announcing the event, someone had drawn graffiti-esque illustrations on them, things like hearts and chocolates and emotes. It’d be more accurate to call them jumbo-sized hand-drawn pop signs.

But the shabby, slapdash work wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the words written on them.

No experience necessary! No quotas! At-home atmosphere! Get the know-how and experience to become independent in the future!

This was not just a company run by black-hearted executives, but Black Company RX… An “at-home atmosphere” just means you’re extra brutal on anyone but your own cronies.

“I wouldn’t mind, if it’s just putting up some posters, but…,” Yukinoshita said anxiously.

Isshiki lifted her head to look into thin air as she touched her chin, pausing to think a bit. “Ahhh… Oh no, it’s kinda crazy in there right now, so I’ll put up posters, too.”

She had to think to come up with that? She just wants to slack off, doesn’t she…? I was thinking, when of course, my other two associates were of exactly the same mind.

“…Ah, ah-ha-ha. Th-that’s kinda a sketchy reason.”

“We don’t mind if you go back in, Isshiki.”

Yuigahama had her forced smile on full power, while Yukinoshita’s icy smile was downright arctic.

“I-it’s not like that; I’m not slacking, okay? And, like, there isn’t much work to do for this event anyway…”

When I gave her a questioning look like, Why not…? Isshiki blew out a tired phew.

“The boy-girl ratio in the student council is about fifty-fifty? And Miss Secretary and Vice Prez are kinda close, right? And then there’s also, um… Uh, well, just a ton of reasons! ” Isshiki equivocated for a while, then smiled cutely to get out of everything. It’s the most irritating thing in the world when someone drops what they were saying halfway through, but that was adorable, so she’s in the clear!

“…?” Yukinoshita tilted her head with a questioning look.

But the info Isshiki had just provided was enough to tell Yuigahama the general situation. “Ah, ahhh…I get it.”

I basically got it, too.

The hard thing was not the work itself; it was the social relationships. There’s lots of workplaces like that out there. I’ve quit part-time jobs for those reasons. I mean, it’s really too much. When the store manager is dating a high school girl, and then she cheats on him with the pretty-boy university kid they just hired, and then the manager starts bullying him for it—that kind of workplace environment is just brutal…

…Well, you get that stuff in any community. It’s basically everywhere.

It’s so common, and everyone knows it.

But still, nobody knows the best answer.

I was about to start thinking about the problem I wasn’t looking at and the answers that wouldn’t come—when I felt a prod at my back.

“So let’s hurry and put them up! Slowly, if possible!” said Isshiki.

“You’re one hundred percent just trying to buy time here, aren’t you? Whatever. But it’s cold outside, so I wanna get this done fast.” When I looked through the single glass door that separated us from the outside, the cold air came to surround me, and I did a full-body shiver.

I looked up at the sky; the light of day still remained, telling me there was still some time until nightfall.

When I sighed, my breath rose white in the air, and my eyes followed it up until it vanished.

We spread out the posters flat and came up with the general area of where to stick them. The wind had died down, compared with the past few days, and that kept the thin papers from flipping up.

As we were doing that, Isshiki, who’d gone over to the convenience store across the street to buy some Scotch tape, came back with a plastic bag hanging from one hand.

“It really is cold, huh? Here you go.” What she pulled out from the bag was black tea in a plastic bottle. She must have bought it while she was at the store. She handed one each to Yukinoshita and Yuigahama.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, it’s warm!”

Accepting the drinks, Yukinoshita wrapped both hands around her bottle to hold it, while Yuigahama touched hers to her cheek to capture the meager warmth from it.

“Here, and you too.”

“Oh.” What she gave me was a Max can. …She actually gets it.

I popped the tab, took a gulp, and instinctively let out a deep sigh.

The sky was utterly clear and bright, with nothing moving in it. With the weather like this, the night was gonna get a lot colder.

Now that I thought about it, it seemed strange that it got colder on sunny days. But maybe it’s not so strange.

If you know about radiative cooling, the idea is easier to accept. Or maybe, if you’ve already accepted the more nebulous idea that winter is just cold, you probably wouldn’t even find it strange in the first place.

Human intuition is unreliable; intuition is just perception, memory, and delusion put together.

But whether the sky was sunny or cloudy, it was still cold. So I squeezed the Max can tight to warm my hands and went to work.

First, we stuck a poster up on the glass at the entrance of the community center.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” I took a poster from Yuigahama. There was Scotch tape stuck on the four corners, so I just had to press this against the wall and smack the taped parts to make it stick. Done and done.

Let’s put it a little higher so you can see it… I stretched a little with a hup and stuck it on. “This good?” I turned back to ask.

Yukinoshita, watching me from a few steps farther away, gave a little shake of her head. “It’s askew.”

“It is? Isn’t this right?” I examined the poster I’d just put up again, but it didn’t really seem crooked. When I cocked my head with a dubious expression, Yukinoshita breathed a short sigh.

“Perhaps it looks fine to you, given your skewed perspectives on things.”

“Oh, I can definitely believe that… Hey, but you’re not exactly unskewed yourself. And if it’s all a matter of perspective, how do you know which is which?” I asked as I glanced her way again.

Yukinoshita swept the hair off her shoulders and gave me a look. “There is no absolute standard of righteousness—only what someone has decided is right. Here and now, that would be what I say. So just listen to me and tilt it slightly to the left.”

“Speaking of twisted perspectives… So is this good?”

“Well, good enough.”

After getting the all clear from Yukinoshita, I went to do the same with another sheet, carrying the posters to tack one on the bulletin board that faced the street, and once again figured out a position for it.

So Yukinoshita accompanied me, and this time Yuigahama trotted over, too, coming to stand beside her. For some reason, Isshiki joined us, lining up beside the other girls.

“Hikki, a little higher! Higher!”

“That’s too far up. Bring it down a little.”

“Huh? But shouldn’t you do something about the left side first?”

…Okay, guys, one person to give instructions is enough.

With people telling me to go up and down and left, right, left, right and stuff to put up the poster, I was suddenly remembering the Konami code, like I was back in elementary school. Although I guess that’s forgotten knowledge on the playground these days.

“Looks good. Guess I’ll put up one more.” I gave the poster a couple of little smacks, pushing it in firmly as I turned around and saw Isshiki, canned cocoa in her hands covered by overlong sleeves, shaking her head.

“Well, I guess that’s good enough. It’s not like that many people are coming, so this is just, like, a landmark, or just in case.”

Is that how it is…? Well, maybe this is enough when it’s just a small gathering of friends and acquaintances. Besides, landmarks are actually pretty important. The world is more convenient these days, and you can just search wherever you want to go on your phone, but you do still sometimes wonder if you’re in the right place and then just go home out of fear of embarrassment… Landmarks are important! This is one of the reasons I often abandoned interviews for part-time jobs!

Anyway, I wonder what sort of people will come to this… This time around, I honestly hadn’t been involved with anything aside from helping out that day, so I didn’t know what the plan was.

Miura and Ebina came to consult with us, and Kawasaki, too, so they’ll come for sure, and they should be bringing Hayama to taste-test… As I was thinking this, some familiar figures approached from the other side of the street.

Noticing them, Yuigahama waved widely. “Oh, it’s them. Yahallooo!”

After waiting for the light to change, Ebina trotted over. “Hello, hellooo! Thanks for today.”

Running up by her side was Tobe. “Yo, yoooo!”

What’s with that greeting? Is he gonna show off his Walk the Dog like we’re in elementary school? Maybe he always got like this for events, but he was even more excitable than usual. He went straight into a loud conversation with Ebina and Yuigahama.

He’s obnoxious, but that’s nothing new, I thought. Meanwhile, Miura, following behind him, seemed comparatively quiet. She was constantly glancing over at the person beside her, reshouldering her bag, and fiddling with her hair, and she seemed nervous.

Well, no wonder. She was about to make chocolate and give it to him.

I don’t know what she’d said to invite him, but it seemed she’d convinced Hayama to come.

Anyway, we’d made it past hurdle number one. Next, if Miura did a good job with her cooking, then her request would be no problem. Relieved for the moment, I picked up the Max can I’d left on the stairs at my feet and took a sip.

That was when I heard the patter of footsteps. In a heartbeat, Iroha Isshiki was right there in front of us.

“Ohhh, Hayama! Thanks so much for coming today!” she said, immediately coming up by his side. Miura glared death at her over Hayama’s shoulder, but Isshiki smiled brightly and ignored her.

Ah, a new hurdle has appeared for Miura…

“Hey, Iroha. Oh…was it okay for me to come, too? I’ve never done any baking or anything, so I don’t feel like I’ll be all that useful.” Caught between Miura and Isshiki, Hayama had this uncomfortable, confused smile on his face as he scratched his cheek.

Miura gave his shoulder a little bump. “It’s not like you have to worry about that stuff? I mean, like, if you let us know what you think, that’s enough…,” she said shyly to keep him where he was, while Isshiki spoke sweetly to drag him in.

“Yeah! We’ll be counting on you for taste-testing!”

Hayama had his trademark breezy smile. “Okay, then might as well go in.”

“Yes, we have to start getting ready,” said Yukinoshita. She and Yuigahama nodded to each other, and Ebina and Tobe followed after them into the community center.

With Miura and Isshiki guarding either side, Hayama went after them.

Looks like he’s in for a bad time, ah-ha-ha-ha, I thought, watching it in a detached manner. Not my problem. I was taking another sip of my Max can, when my eyes happened to meet with Hayama’s.

“Hey,” he said, then prompted Miura and Isshiki with a look to go on ahead. Though they both seemed nonplussed, they headed toward the entrance hall.

Hayama watched them go with a gentle smile, then glanced at me. “You’re on taste-testing, too, Hikigaya?”

“Basically,” I replied bluntly.

Hayama narrowed his eyes. “…I see.” And then, as if he couldn’t hold it back, a tiny giggle slipped out of him.

“What…?”

That all-knowing look in his eyes, and that vaguely pitying smile. And the way he was talking—all of it reminded me of confronting a certain someone else. It was getting on my nerves, and I couldn’t completely hide it in my reply.

But Hayama just shrugged with a light shake of his head. His expression was gentle, and the strangely mature air of a moment ago was gone. “Oh, no. I just thought you were a good choice.”

“Huh?”

“You like sweets, right?” he teased as he pointed to the Max can in my hands.

Well, it is true that I’m often drinking these…

“That’s why,” he added quietly. With that, he started off again at a brisk pace toward the entrance hall where Miura and Isshiki were waiting.

That was close! I thought for a second I might swoon! “Oh no, Hayama knows my favorite drink! Yeek!” Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t happen.

…In fact, I didn’t feel very good at all. I had to force a lame joke in there, or I might actually think too much. Hayama was probably the same, which was why he’d deliberately teased me to avoid the issue.

I knocked back the rest of my half-drunk Max can in one go and clenched the steel can in my fist, although I knew I wasn’t strong enough to crush it.

Well, the postering was over.

I won’t know the situation inside the community center without looking, but I guess I can’t just stand out here and watch. I’ve got to pick something small to do.

And so, the next work begins…

Though I’d mentally braced myself for some kind of involuntary labor, I hadn’t anticipated it would be manual involuntary labor.

Various cardboard boxes, large and small, were sitting right there bam in the middle of the entrance hall. Inside was the baking chocolate, sugar, baking powder, and the other stuff the student council had ordered.

My job for the moment was to carry all this to the kitchen on the second floor.

It was good that they’d requested delivery from the supplier and had them carry it in, but I wished they could’ve tried a little harder and carried it up to the second floor while they were at it… Well, at least they didn’t make me go out and buy it.

“Awright, then I’ll take this right up.” Tobe rolled up the sleeves of his uniform dress shirt and hefted the cardboard box. I went next, and then the vice president. The crew choice here was clearly selected by Iroha Isshiki… Also known as: The Association of Victims of Iroha Isshiki. Hayato Hayama is of course exempted.

Carrying the boxes filled with ingredients, we heaved and hoed our way up the stairs.

“Duuude, this is actually really heavy, huh?” Tobe was perky in the lead, but as we approached the halfway point of the staircase, the weight of his box was getting to him. He adjusted his grip with a hyup.

Then the vice president, following behind me, said apologetically, “Sorry, we don’t have many boys, so this honestly helps.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, though…,” I said.

“For sure, dude. I’m used to this kinda thing.” Tobe did this wide sweep of his head in our direction, like he was getting his hair out of his face, and grinned.

God, you’re annoying. And that’s dangerous. Eyes forward, come on. You’ll fall and get hurt. And you need to cut your hair.

But Tobe’s an easy mark, getting yanked around on Isshiki’s whims. And I felt like the vice president was getting grief from her, too—maybe it was his timid-looking face. So this was like, you know—the three of us combined made the Worldly Sufferer Series. Seems like we could become a weapon for defeating vampires.

With some straining and groaning, the three of us finally arrived at our goal, the kitchen. Still carrying his box, Tobe skillfully opened the sliding door with his elbow.

Yuigahama and Yukinoshita were inside, having laid out the cooking implements and set up each table. The student council was directing Miura, Ebina, and Hayama to help with the other tables.

First, I went over to Isshiki, Yuigahama, and Yukinoshita to ask where this box went.

“Thanks!” Yuigahama said as I set down my load with a thump.

Yukinoshita came over to inspect the boxes. “Good. Isshiki, have the ingredients been divided up?” Yukinoshita asked her.

“Yep, yep. We just have to toss ’em all over each table, and we’re good,” Isshiki replied as she counted the boxes one, two, three and nodded. “Looks like they’re all here. Then let’s open ’em up and get it all set out everywhere quick,” she ordered, and the vice president, still with a box in his arms, whisked himself straight over to the table where Miss Secretary was.

Tobe and I squatted down on the spot first to start opening the boxes. The sound of cardboard popping and metal clanking brought home the sense that something was actually starting.

The one feeling this the most had to be Tobe. He kept tugging at the hair at the back of his head, and he seemed to be in high spirits. “Man, I love stuff like this. Hey, Irohasu, you’re like a real student council president now, huh?”

“Yep, I sure am. But I’m still team manager. Once it gets warmer, I’ll make sure to go to practice!”

Uh, you should go to practice even when it’s cold…

Hearing Isshiki’s cheery response, Tobe gave her a thumbs-up, a wink, and a smile. Maaan, he’s obnoxious.

So we opened the boxes no problem and pulled out variety packs of baking chocolate, the main ingredient for the day.

Seeing it, Tobe seemed to remember something, “Man, this looks so good, dude. Now I want some.”

“Huh?” Isshiki shot him a cold look.

But Tobe did not stop talking. In fact, he took a little breath and then braced himself with a look of determination.

He stood up and checked all around nearby, then tried to wave us together into a circle.

“What? Are we having a secret meeting?” Yuigahama stuck her head in with deep interest.

“I can’t really leave my task now, though…” Yukinoshita looked bothered, but she capitulated when Yuigahama dragged her over.

And so we formed a huddle. He’s not gonna say Gather round for a round of cheers, whoo! or anything, right…?

My misgivings, however, proved unfounded. Tobe just tugged at the hair at the back of his neck and twirled it around his fingers, being all shy as he opened his mouth. Hey, that’s not cute.

“Ah, well, like…they’re making chocolate stuff today, right? So I was thinking maybe I could turn it around in a way and be the one to go for it instead, but… You don’t have nothin’?”

“You don’t have nothin’?” Look, this isn’t an ad for Ajigonomi…and I’m not your mom.

And that isn’t “turning it around” at all—you’re always making a go for it, and she blocks or ignores everything. If you’re going to “turn it around,” then learn how to back off. What is this, like “if pushing doesn’t work, then just try pulling…”? Oh, no! Boys are rarely so forceful these days; it gets my heart pounding!

But it seemed I was the only one with a pattering heart. The reaction from the girls was lacking.

“…Uh-huh, so you want to try to push her directly to give you chocolate?” I was forced to sum it up in brief, since nobody would give the guy a response.

Tobe pointed a finger at me. “Yeah, dude! Well, basically?”

Isshiki made an eugh face. “I don’t know who you’re after, but that’ll have the opposite effect. Shilling for chocolate is high-key creepy. Please just keep quiet.”

“O-okay…”

Irohasu is brutal… Struck silent, Tobe looked around at all of us, seeking someone to defend him.

The one to respond to his hopes was Yukinoshita. She put her hand to her cheek and tilted her head, then offered a conclusion she seemed to have considered very seriously.

“But there’s a logic to what Isshiki is saying, isn’t there…? Someone scampering around in the corner of your eye, constantly piping up… It’s obnoxious.”

“…” Even Tobe was left speechless after such a thorough thrashing.

So then why is Irohasu leaning her shoulder against our dear Miss Yukinoshita, playing cute and going “Riiight?”

This is just sad, I was thinking, when Yuigahama groaned.

“H-hmm… But you know, if you act like you totally don’t want it at all, she won’t know what to do, so I dunno…”

“Right, dude?!” Tobe’s mood did a 180 as he regained his cheer, snapping his fingers.

But Isshiki’s verbal assault wasn’t over. “No, no, no. What Yui is saying is for when a girl already plans to give you some. This doesn’t apply to you.” She waved her hands to make her point.

That would take the wind out of anyone’s sails, even Tobe’s. “Dude…”

But the odds weren’t totally zero, as far as I could tell. I don’t have any clear evidence of anything, but if Ebina was showing up here with the intention of making something, that was a bit different from before. Of course, she could just be tagging along with Miura. That wasn’t for me to know.

I think all that nebulous uncertainty was what made it effective.

“Well, if everyone’s working on making stuff, then you’ll wind up getting to taste-test for her, right? Not like I know. Anyway, take this over there,” I said, shoving the remaining box at Tobe.

At first, his mouth just hung open, but then he figured out what I was trying to say and clapped his hands. “Yeah! That’s it, dude!” Tobe jabbed a finger at me with some relief, then hefted the cardboard box up to his shoulder and quickly scampered off to the table where Ebina and their crowd was.

He may be a good guy, but god is everything he does obnoxious.

Where the heck is Tobe from…? He says dude way too much.

We spent some more time setting up the cooking event, and then it was just about time to start.

Isshiki, Yukinoshita, and Yuigahama were having a meeting on what they were going to make. I didn’t chime in, but with nothing else to do, I just listened and stared off into space.

And then, mingling with the sound of their discussion, I faintly heard the chattering and carrying on from outside the kitchen. Glancing over at the clock, I saw it was almost time for everyone else to be showing up.

So that voice is Kawa-something… No, there’s too many voices for it to be her. Or are there multiple Kawa-somethings, and I just never knew? No wonder I can’t remember their names…

I kept my eyes firmly on the door so that I would be able to receive the visitor, no matter which Kawa-something came, be it Kawashima, Kawaguchi, Kawagoe, Kawanakajima, Sendai, or Sendai…

Then, the door rattled open.

And standing there was Tama-something.

“Hey, Iroha-chan. Oh, this is great! Especially since the last event was so well received, you know. I was so delighted to receive your offer just as I was thinking that, moving forward, I would like to build a rigorous partnership and continue building upon our cooperative enterprise,” he said, dropping enough fancy English that I doubt Isshiki even understood half of it.

“Yeah, thanks for your help.” Despite his long address, Isshiki didn’t comment on any of it.

The student council president of Kaihin High School, Tamanawa… Still making those jabs the moment he enters the ring, huh…? The guy’s got a golden left arm for high-speed pottery wheel spins; maybe he’s just the one we need to aim for glory.

What’s more, he brought friends. Some familiar faces from the joint Christmas event came into the kitchen one after another—probably the student council from his school. That irritating hairpin and that aggravating preppy cardigan around the shoulders looked familiar.

“This event is also a business opportunity, right? Forward planning by utilizing crowdfunding to raise money before taking it to the next level could be an option.”

“I’m in agreeance with that.”

“If we can construct a methodology that will restore incentives, we might gain traction with early adapters.”

“When the USA was a free market, children would sell lemonade to nurture a sense for economics—maybe this is similar.”

“Yeah, that’s one case study, huh?”

In the context of their conversation, even the word lemonade sounded mysteriously pretentious. When they say it, would even a lifeguard guzzling coffee with milk sound fancy?

“Still have no idea what they’re talking about…,” I muttered.

Yukinoshita let out a short sigh. “That’s because your brain isn’t engaged. Pupils wide, lips purple, and when someone talks to you, there’s not much response…”

“Sounds like my brain is completely off.”

If my pupils are wide, then that means I’m dead, actually… Anyway, those guys haven’t changed much. Well, people don’t change so easily. Honestly, if one or two failures was enough to stop them, they would never have gotten that bad in the first place. If I thought of this as a form of sticking to your guns, it didn’t seem so bad.

Mm-hmm, I kinda hope Tamanawa and his crowd stay like that forever, I was thinking, when someone popped out from behind the group.

“Oh, it’s Hikigaya. So you did come!”

“Y-yeah.”

The one talking to me in the same old casual manner, ignoring all social barriers, was Kaori Orimoto. Slipping on out of the Kaihin circle, she strolled up to me.

And then she leaned around to see behind me.

“Oh, hi.” Orimoto bowed with her head only, and Yuigahama seemed a bit flustered as she returned it.

“H-hi…”

Yukinoshita just acknowledged Orimoto with a casual look, arms still folded.

What’s with the tension…?

Oh yeah, they’ve never had the chance to actually talk. They only know the other exists, basically. It wasn’t like I wanted them to be friends, but I really would have preferred to avoid this awkward vibe.

Isshiki was better able to converse with Orimoto, and she was known to at least convincingly pretend to get along with her, so I shot her a pleading look. Irohasuuuu, save me, Irohasuuuu. What I got back was a throat-clearing noise.

It was a deeper noise, a hem, gefum in a more full-sounding voice. Surprisingly uncute for Isshiki, I thought, and then I saw it was Tamanawa. Orimoto coming over to talk to us must have alerted Tamanawa to my presence. His expression was displeased. “Ah, I see they’ve come, too…,” he said.

“Ohhh, didn’t I mention?” Isshiki touched a slim finger to her glossy lips and tilted her head.

She is a master of playing dumb…

“H-hmm…I’m not sure. I don’t think there were logs of any e-mail-based exchanges…”

With the groaning Tamanawa in the corner of her eye, Isshiki turned to me and stuck out her tongue mischievously. What the hell, that’s cute?

Isshiki’s amazing act did the trick, and Tamanawa gave up on pressing her further. All he said was “Hmm, hmm, uhhh, er” and then left with the Kaihin crowd in tow, heading in the opposite direction.

“Well, see you.” Orimoto raised a casual hand and dashed off to join them.

Watching her go, I whispered to Isshiki, who had this fake-looking smile on, “So what’s going on with those guys…?”

“Best scenario is calling this a joint event and then reeling in funds from Kaihin, too, right? And that’s a score for me, since I’ll save myself the cost of the obligatory chocolate for them!”

“O-okay…” Iroha Isshiki, you never let me down… Seriously, won’t she get stabbed one day? Is she gonna be okay? With some worry, I gave her a disparaging look.

Isshiki seemed a little embarrassed, blushing as she cleared her throat. “Ahem. Besides, we are charging for the event just in case, so budget-wise, we’re in the black for this. Well, if you subtract all expenses, then it’s a wash. Barely makes the BEP, but we’re about net zero, though.”

“You…kinda lost me, Iroha-chan…” Yuigahama held her head in her hands and moaned.

Well, there’s some overlap between your pretentious types and business wannabes… By the way, “it’s a wash” and “barely making the break-even point” both mean “net zero”!

Isshiki must have pulled some strings to invest student council funds in this though, huh? She’d probably made those posters so she could have some concrete record of our activities. Having the documentation is always convenient for filing time! She’d really gained a good sense for business, for better or worse. The fee for participants was also a pretty cheap sale price, and I am not the one called sale-immune. Sale prism power, make up!

Bringing in another school means two times the budget, and collecting fees for participation makes is a triple-bang, increasing the acquired funds Quiz Derby–style.

Well, accusations of using student council funds for personal reasons or embezzlement aren’t exactly something you can excuse… I had no idea about the fiscal management in that area, so I would close my eyes on this one. Most of all, inside me lives the corporate slave mind-set: It’s not really my money, so whatever.

Even just listening to this talk was giving me a headache, but this was what had brought the event to life, so Isshiki’s endeavors were not entirely misguided.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one feeling this was headache-worthy, as Yukinoshita also had a hand at her temple, sighing deeply. “Leaving aside the ethics of your approach… You’ve been surprisingly capable with this, Isshiki…”

“She has been. She has things together pretty good, you know? Even if she can be a little inconsistent.”

“Ah, I think I kinda get that.” Yuigahama answered that gentle-fluffy voice with a strained smile. Indeed, she was quite right.

…Gentle-fluffy?

That voice had a softness to it that didn’t belong to Yukinoshita or Yuigahama, a tone that somehow drew you into drowsiness. My head jerked around to look.

Bangs snapped in a hairpin, shiny forehead, and a fluffy-gentle air around her with every sway of her braids—and her Megurin-bright smile.

“Oh! Shiromeguri!”

“H-hello…”

Yuigahama’s call of surprise and Yukinoshita’s somewhat-confused greeting came at the same time. They both blinked.

“Yeah! Good to see you!” Meguri Shiromeguri, the previous student council president, waved her hand in front of her modest chest as she returned their greetings.

“Um, why are you here…?” Her sudden entrance had hit me with the Megurin Effect (mainly used for healing and relaxation, big sister elemental), but I somehow managed to ask that.

Meguri clapped her hands and cocked her head an inch, looking pleased. “I was invited…so here I am.” With a fluffy eh-he, she activated the Megu-Megu-Megurin Megurish Effect (main effects are resurrection and detox, also confers big sister element, and you also gain the added status effect of seeing the occasional mature air and innocent gestures. The opponent dies).

Still with that fuzzy-wafty tone, Meguri slid a step forward and took Isshiki’s hand in a gentle grip. “I got invited! I’m doing the address at the graduation ceremony, you know, so I ran into Isshiki when I came to school for that, and that’s when she made the offer.”

Oh-ho, so Isshiki was the one to invite her. She didn’t seem to enjoy engaging with Meguri all that much, though…, I thought, looking at Isshiki.

She jerked her face away, muttering in a super-quiet voice, “…Well, once you have a certain number of participants, the unit cost goes down.” It seemed her words didn’t quite reach Meguri.

Meguri actually seemed pleased Isshiki had invited her, swinging Isshiki’s hand back and forth in her grasp. With each swing, Isshiki twisted around like she was embarrassed.

“I already got into university on a recommendation, so I have nothing to do, you know!” said Meguri. “My friends all seem busy with entrance exams… So I brought along the members who had the time.”

“Oh, I see…” After replying to her, I suddenly realized something felt off. Members? That’s an odd way to put it… It’s like something pressured her to say that instead of suspects, resulting in that strange wording.

When I gave Meguri a questioning look, she spun around to face behind her. “Right?” she called back, and then poof, a bunch of kids were there. What the heck, are these nin-nin ninjas or what? Pulling up my vague and dim memories, I found I did know them, more or less. They had that distinct glasses-y vibe—meaning they had to be the glasses-wearing former members of the student council.

They must have been worried about the succeeding student council after all—given what had happened that led to Isshiki becoming student council president. And the student council was probably a special place to Meguri.

Meguri finally released Isshiki and next laid her hands gently on Yukinoshita’s and Yuigahama’s shoulders. Then she surveyed our faces fondly. “Things are a little different from what I expected, but still…I’m glad I got to show up to a student council job again like this and be able to speak with you, Yukinoshita, Yuigahama…and Hikigaya.”

“Oh…me too!” Yuigahama replied with a soft, squishy smile. She must have been hit by the Megurin Effect, too. Though Yukinoshita didn’t reply, her face was slightly downturned, her ears red.

Now that I thought about it, for the members of the Service Club, the only senior we knew was Meguri.

…Oh no, if I see Meguri at the graduation ceremony making her speech, I might cry. I’m even starting to tear up right now. I may have a reputation for being super-weak to younger girls, but older girls are also a weak point of mine.

I’m glad I have her to look up to, I was thinking, feeling fluffy and gentle, as Meguri observed us and nodded.

Then she pumped a little fist like she was trying to get us energized. “Okay, then let’s do our best today, too! Whoo!”

Nobody responded to her, either. The admirable attitude Isshiki had shown earlier had evaporated, and she was giving Meguri an apathetic look.

But Meguri was not at all fazed by the cold reception, happy to take the time she needed as she stuck her fist up again. “Whoo!”

“…Wh-whoo.” If I don’t respond, she’ll keep going again and again… The pressure from the old student council members waiting behind her is intense… Glancing around to see what I should be doing, I raised my hand not too far, just about the height of a cat’s swipe. Seeing our reply, Meguri made a satisfied-sounding hmf.

Then she glanced at the clock on the wall, drawing my eye over, too. Just about everyone had arrived, and we were also done setting out the ingredients and cooking implements. Kawasaki and her sister were a little late, but they’d be coming soon.

Then it’s about time to start, I was thinking, when Meguri tilted her head with a hmm.

“Haru’s a little late, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t think this place is too hard to find, though.” Isshiki nodded back at Meguri.

But I was unable to nod—I’d just heard an ominous word.

Haru here didn’t particularly refer to a hostess who works at a hot spring. There was only one person Meguri would call by that name.

Shifting my gaze to the side, I saw Yukinoshita’s eyebrows drawing into a scowl. Yuigahama also must have basically figured it out, as she was staring at the door.

Eventually, there was a rattle.

The door wasn’t very well fitted, so it was extra-noisy as it slid open. Fine, willowy fingers reached into that opening, and then the door was wrenched loudly.

Next came the click of her heel against the floor. Slowly, with firm step after step, she entered the room and came to stand before us. “Hya-hallooo! Sorry, am I late?”

“And sooo, this is our bonus instructor today, our very special senior Haru!” Isshiki said in a cutesy-sweet tone.

“Hi, hi, I’m the very special senior Haru.” Haruno Yukinoshita’s bright-red coat fluttered as she raised a hand in casual greeting and joined Isshiki’s little joke.

“Oh, Haru. It’s been a long time,” Meguri said as she ambled up to the other girl.

“…We saw each other just the other day, didn’t we, Meguri?” Haruno said with exasperation as she gave her a little poke in the forehead.

“Your cooking is so good! I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well, I was asked to do it, so I’ll make some. As a kind big sister figure, I can’t refuse requests from people looking to me for help, you know?”

Kind? You mean kinda scary? ’Cause I’m actually feeling nothing but terror…

The two of them went straight from greetings into some idle chitchat.

I took that opportunity to beckon Isshiki over with little waves. “Hey, why’d you invite her?” I asked quietly.

“I mean, she’s a total veteran at this, right?” Isshiki said as if it were entirely obvious, apparently baffled.

Yes, you are quite correct in that assessment. She’s not just a total veteran; she’s an undefeated champion. And also the most fearsome and terrible.

“But I was enough, though…” Yukinoshita held her own elbows in a loose grip as she averted her eyes from Haruno, who was standing opposite her.

“Well, your teaching methods aside, you are a great cook,” I said.

“…Not that great.” The compliment must have surprised her, as she went silent for a moment before immediately jerking her face away.

Uh, that wasn’t a compliment. I’m saying you’re a bad teacher.

“I’m looking forward to having you teach me, Yukinon!” Yuigahama said, glomping Yukinoshita. That seemed to cheer Yukinoshita a little, as she cleared her throat a bit bashfully.

…Well, having someone aside from Yukinoshita who could give instructions would allow her to give more attention to Yuigahama, so it wasn’t really a bad thing.

But I was still wondering why Isshiki had expressly invited Haruno.

First of all, if you considered the number of people participating in the event, it wasn’t like there was a huge crowd to teach, and Isshiki had professed to knowing what she was doing, too. And there had to be some other girls with experience in baking and chocolate making, too.

“It didn’t have to be her, did it? Yukinoshita is way better than some rando off the street, you know.” I indirectly probed for the reason why Isshiki had reached out to Haruno specifically.

“Well, I do think Yukinoshita is a supergood cook, which is why I asked for her help.” But Isshiki paused there and shifted her gaze awkwardly. “It’s just, well, um…I kinda wondered if she’d make things that’d be a hit with boys.”

“Very good point…”

Yukinoshita really is a great cook, but she’s lacking in service spirit, or just lacking in fanservice. Specifically in the chest area. By contrast, Yuigahama has a lot of service, but her basic skills are catastrophic… Oh, I’m sure Yukinoshita’s work would be solid and safe, but when it comes to something that would be a “hit with boys,” as Isshiki put it—something to show off her girlish charms—I couldn’t offer quite as strong an endorsement.

And Haruno Yukinoshita would steal the hearts of anyone, boy or girl, in that area. Nay—she would take them in her grasp and crush them. I don’t know anyone more skilled when it comes to seeing through the cracks in people’s hearts.

On top of that, her basic specs are even higher than Yukinoshita’s. I’m sure she’d make a thorough demonstration of her abilities, artifices, and wiles with cooking, too. She’s so good, I bet she could win over not just humans, but fairies, too.

I had to make jokes to myself, or my anxiety would be off the charts.

Every single thing Haruno Yukinoshita does means both nothing and everything.

If she was showing up here today, she had to be here for a reason. There was no way she’d come over just because a student from her old school had asked.

She was always like that.

Just like her name, she exposes things under the light of the sun.

Even though she doesn’t reveal a single thing about herself.

5

Suddenly, Shizuka Hiratsuka lectures about the present continuous and the past.

There were no particularly large obstacles to getting started or anything unique to the proceedings that we could see, and we took our time moving things along.

When it was coming to the time to start, we just sort of looked at each other and got the sense we should hop to it or something. Isshiki casually announced it was happening, and everyone began a flurry of cooking.

I wasn’t part of the culinary side of this, so there wasn’t really anything for me to do. My main job (such as it was) was support, backup, assistance, help—but to be blunt, I was unemployed.

By contrast, Yukinoshita was putting her nose right to the grindstone.

At the table ahead of me, the trio of Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and Miura all examined the cooking tools before them with utmost seriousness.

“First, we cut up the chocolate and heat it in a water bath,” said Yukinoshita. “This will depend on what you’re making, but this stage will be necessary.”

“That all?” Miura asked, sounding underwhelmed.

“…Basically, yes. But the important part comes after that,” Yukinoshita answered as she chopped up the chocolate chunks into finer pieces with rhythmical strikes of the blade. Yuigahama gave an appreciative “Ohhh” at how smooth her movements were.

Uh, I don’t think it’s time to be impressed yet, though…

Next, Miura imitated Yukinoshita. She was a bit timid with the cooking knife, but she broke up the chocolate in her own way. And no, Yuigahama was still not permitted to touch a knife. This was nonnegotiable.

Once the chocolate was mostly chopped, Miura straightened up again with some satisfaction. Uh, it’s still totally not done, though…

But she was apparently pleased with her results. “Huh… This is pretty easy,” she crowed, her face breaking into a proud smile that seemed to say, How d’you like that?

But she was immediately confronted with protests from both sides.

“You have no idea, Yumiko!” Yuigahama said, bluntly and passionately.

“None at all.” Yukinoshita’s remark came with a cold smile.

But neither seemed to clear Miura’s impression that this task was surprisingly easy, as she cocked her head. “Huh? Is there something hard?” she asked.

Yuigahama puffed out her chest with a smug chuckle. “The hard part comes next! A water bath doesn’t mean to put it in water. You kinda go brrrr. Y’know, like brrrr.”

She was probably talking about whipping and tempering, and I could make a joke about her whipping herself into a panic over this. But I won’t.

Meanwhile, Yuigahama’s sound effects must have been giving Yukinoshita a bit of a headache, as touched her hand to her temple and said with a sigh, “Once you’ve melted chocolate, you can’t just let it harden again. The fat will separate and turn white, which doesn’t look or taste good. And there’s a lot of work involved in the process after this stage.”

Man, Yukinoshita’s response was on a whole different level… This is like the difference between a whale and an F2Per here.

Between Yuigahama’s energy and Yukinoshita’s logic, Miura was overwhelmed into reconsidering.

“Hmm. Uh-huh… So what’s next?” she asked in the typical Miura way, but her attitude was more commendable. At the very least, you could see she was trying to learn. And that brought a little smile to Yukinoshita’s face.

“First, the water bath and tempering. The next steps will depend on what we make, so… Well, we have a lot of people, so how about we try French chocolate cake?”

“French chocolate cake! I didn’t know you could even make it at home!” said Yuigahama.

“It’s nothing that difficult… I’m using unsweetened chocolate, but I think you two can go with what you like.”

Yuigahama’s eyes were shining with respect, while Miura was giving her a look like, Huh, not bad. Yukinoshita smiled wryly.

Well, I was a bit uneasy about Yuigahama, but if Yukinoshita was with her, it probably wouldn’t end in disaster.

Okay, then how about the others? I thought, looking over to a table to the side, and there I saw Isshiki, cooking at her own pace.

From what I could see, things with her were going well.

She’d already finished melting her chocolate into a smooth and lustrous paste, while in another bowl, she’d beaten meringue to fluffiness. Just seeing how smoothly she was managing it, I could tell she knew what she was doing.

Next, Isshiki dropped a teaspoon of something that looked like Western liquor into the bowl and mixed it up a little more. After she scooped up a tad with a spoon, her lips closed over it as she took a taste.

She nommed the spoon in her mouth for a while, then tilted her head with a hmm. It seemed she was not satisfied, and she started adding in this and that: sugar, whipped cream, and cocoa powder and such.

“You’re actually good at this, huh…?” Maybe I shouldn’t have said so, but I was so surprised that it just slipped out.

That drew a glare from Isshiki. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Oh, no… I was just impressed. You’re working pretty hard at this.” Thinking about everything she was doing to get Hayama to eat her cooking, I had to appreciate how single-minded she was about it. Well, I was also getting hints of her nefarious scheming to save money on the cost of obligatory chocolate. But still. Maybe it was just the school uniform/apron combo talking, but even her scheming seemed transformed into charming determination, mysteriously enough. And let me tell you this right here: An apron over a uniform hits you harder than an apron over nothing at all! The one that hits hardest is Komachi in a tank top and shorts and an apron, though.

So I’d been thinking as I’d made that remark.

Isshiki blinked, mouth dropping open. But then she quickly put both hands in front of her and backed away. “What, are you trying to hit on me? Like this sweet talk will work just because we’re making sweets? Well, you can bet your ‘sweet’ bippy that’s not gonna work, so go over your strategy again and come back later, sorry.” With a polite bow of her head, she thoroughly rejected me.

I’m not trying to hit on you, though, and I’m not coming back later…

Iroha Isshiki seriously hasn’t changed one bit. Unless she’s gotten more cunning and tenacious. She’s really something, I thought, sighing half in exasperation, half in awe. And that was when a spoon popped up in front of my face.

“Hyup!” Isshiki went, and the spoon skimmed my cheek to stick into my mouth. It was so sudden, I flailed and made muffled noises of distress as my eyes rolled back and forth in my head, and in my flickering field of vision, Isshiki smiled enchantingly.

“You don’t like sweets, like this?” Swinging her spoon, she tilted her head and looked at me through her lashes. She was smiling proudly like a child who’d succeeded in mischief, despite the way she was girlishly and provocatively puffing out her chest. That mismatch was just what made her so terribly charming.

“…I don’t hate it.” I’m sure there wasn’t that much sugar, but it was sweet enough to make my tongue tingle. Wait, you were just using this spoon, weren’t you…? It’s really bad for my heart when you do stuff like that to me, so don’t…

They say sugar is good for fatigue, but it seems the effect reverses when it’s coupled with emotional strain. A wave of exhaustion knocked a sigh out of me, and Isshiki sighed, too.

“Agh. It’s not like I asked for your opinion on the taste, though.” She was pretending she didn’t care, but the look she flicked in my direction gave me the sense she might be waiting for a response.

Taking the time to reflect on the lingering sweetness in my mouth, I digested what Isshiki was trying to say. “That still doesn’t change my answer…”

“…Oh.” Isshiki gazed into the bowl in her arms as if she was pondering something and nodded to herself. Then she jerked her chin up again. “This has been useful. Okay, I’m going off for a bit. Hayamaaaa!” And before she even finished saying that, she pattered off with a bright smile on her face.

As I watched her go, I wiped some chocolate off my cheek with one finger and brought it to my mouth. The scent of cocoa and rum wafted up my nostrils.

“It’s too sweet…” As I grumbled to myself about the flavor again, under the sound of my own voice, I heard the ticking sound of metal hitting metal.

That particular sound has a coldness to it that sends a shiver up your spine. This doesn’t bode well, I thought as I turned around to see Yukinoshita with a bowl in hand, stirring its contents with a spoon.

“…Oh yes, wasn’t your job to taste-test, Hikigaya? You haven’t been the slightest bit useful all this time, so I’d completely forgotten. I would very much like to hear your opinion of this,” she said as she spun her spoon around to point the handle at me. There was a thick glob of black chocolate on the proffered utensil.

“That’s got to be over ninety percent cacao. It’s gonna be bitter…” I didn’t need to eat it to know that. There was definitely no sugar or whipped cream added to this—maybe salted butter at most. The gleaming luster of the chocolate and the smell were both very cacao.

But Yukinoshita’s eyes remained locked on me, with no indication she would back down. She slid another step forward, silently holding out the spoon to me. No way in hell was I taking it.

As we glared at one another, Yuigahama cut between us. “Ah, here! What about mine?!” she asked, offering a bowl of light-brown, sloshy fluid. It would be impertinent to even call it chocolate anymore; it wasn’t even thick enough to call it chocolate sauce—it was so liquidy, I think I’d buy it if someone said it was Van Houten Milk Cocoa.

A sweet scent wafted up from the bowl thrust under my nose.

“I think you’ll probably like this…” She smiled with an ehe-heh as she held the bowl out to me, and when I examined its contents once more, I got this weird sense of déjà vu. Along with the cloying sweetness was the faint scent of coffee. There was a whitish tinge to the light-brown fluid, and bubbles in it that indicated some viscosity…

It’s kind of like MAX Coffee…

But Yuigahama was the one to make this… It’s definitely not going to taste what it looks like… She’s a jack-in-the-box when it comes to flavor. Wait, wasn’t she making chocolate?

On one side, there was a dark mass that you could tell was bitter without even having to taste it. On the other side was a dark mass of unpredictable flavor. So sweet and bitter, I feel like my head will spin!

With both girls offering their work to me, I didn’t know what to say. “H-hold on a second?”

As I was hesitating, there was a rattle as the door to the kitchen was flung open, and then the clicking of disgruntled heels across the floor.

The source of the sound came straight over to me, then blew a sigh like a gust escaping the depths of hell.

“Geez, it’s so sweet in here…” The one muttering that as hatefully as if she’d just detected miasma could only be one person: Shizuka Hiratsuka-chan (single, thirtyish)!

Miss Hiratsuka seemed real unhappy about this, but there was no sweet atmosphere to be found here…

“Um, why are you here, Miss Hiratsuka?” Yukinoshita asked, confused.

“Hmm? Ah, Isshiki made a report to me. I came to check on things, just in case,” the teacher replied with a tired sigh. And then when she looked into the bowls Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were holding, she chuckled low. “I forgot to mention it, but it’s forbidden to bring chocolate to school.”

“I don’t remember that rule.” Yuigahama tilted her head.

Miss Hiratsuka smiled wickedly. “There’s no school rule. But it’s forbidden anyway. It has nothing to do with your studies, and it’s a distraction. A distraction! Why do you think I agreed to abolish obligatory chocolate from the staff room? Partly because it’s a hassle, but also so we can make students taste the same bitterness. Emotions burn all the brighter when there are obstacles in the way. It’s very purposeful.”

She smiles so beautifully as she says the worst things! That’s just what I love about her! But actually, I think some stories might begin with obligatory chocolate! I’d be very happy to solicit people who will take chocolate from Miss Hiratsuka, and also people who will take Miss Hiratsuka herself!

“Either way, there’s no school on Valentine’s due to entrance exams,” Miss Hiratsuka said, and then a soft smile crossed her face as she added, “I’m messing with you.” Her gaze turned to the bowls in Yukinoshita’s and Yuigahama’s grasps as she petted both their heads happily. “Well, good luck.”

Yuigahama gave a confused ummm as she smiled awkwardly, while Yukinoshita jerked her face away. Miss Hiratsuka grinned back at them a little darkly, and she gave them both one last pat on their heads.

I wouldn’t say it was thanks to Miss Hiratsuka, but the presence of an intruder changed the mood of the room a little. All the sugar in the air was slowly joined by a sense of peace as well.

And then someone else showed up—someone who was like a symbol of that peace.

Her bluish-black hair was cut to shoulder length and tied in two pigtails, and she was equipped with a perfectly fitted children’s apron. I remembered her face clearly—with features like that, you knew she’d grow up to be beautiful.

Keika Kawasaki. Kawa-something’s little sister.

After picking up Keika from preschool, Kawasaki arrived a little late with shopping bags in hand, and once she was done briskly getting her sister ready to cook, she sighed in satisfaction, then snapped a picture for the memories.

She must have been the one to put in the extra effort to tailor the apron to Keika’s size. The appliqué and her name embroidered on it were very cute.

Once Kawasaki was done taking pictures, she seemed to realize she had yet to prepare herself. She beckoned me over to her with little waves. “U-um,” she said hesitantly, “I’d like to leave for a bit to get ready…”

Hmm. I don’t know what sort of “getting ready” she’d have to leave to do, but girls have their reasons. I’d already had it on good authority from Komachi that if you probe too deeply at times like these, she’ll get mad at you. And besides, there were lots of people she didn’t know here, plus all the dangerous cooking tools and such. She must have been worried about taking her eye off Keika.

“Ah, I’ll be watching her, so don’t worry,” I said.

“O-okay, then…,” Kawasaki said as she nodded back at me, then strode out of the kitchen.

I watched her go, then turned back to Keika.

She must have been tired from preschool or from getting those photo-of-a-lifetime shots taken by Kawasaki just now. Her eyelids were sagging, and she looked a little sleepy.

But then she looked up at me, blinked a few times, and opened her mouth wide. “It’s Haa-chan!” She apparently remembered me, too, as she stretched her short arm as far as it would go to point up at my face.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m Haa-chan. Though actually it’s Hachiman. Don’t point at people, hey. Or you get the point of a stick.”

With a huff, I squatted down so we could be on eye level. While I was at it, I pointed back at her and poked at her cheek. Oh no, it’s so soft…

As I high-speed poked and mushed her cheek, a very confused Keika responded with a weird auu, auu sound like a seal in her confusion. …Hmm, discipline complete. Now she’ll think twice about pointing.

Though I was satisfied, her cheek was so soft, I couldn’t quite bring myself to pull away my finger. Oh no, it really is so soft… Komachi was like this, once… Oh, I wonder if her cheeks are still soft now…? I thought as I went in with even more soft poking.

Keika looked bothered, but then she went ohhh like she was struck with an idea. “Hya!”

Her attack went boop right into my cheek with zero hesitation.

“Ow… Hey, I said not to point. What if you got me in the eye?”

So I poked her some more to discipline her. Now she thought this was a game, shrieking in laughter and poking back at my cheek in revenge. H-hmm… Maybe discipline has failed.

So what do I do now? I was wondering as I poked Keika’s cheek some more, and a cold voice came down on me from behind.

“…Hey, what’re you doing?”

“Huh? Uh, nothing…”

When I turned around, there was Kawasaki in an apron. She had a bowl of chocolate chunks in her hands as she looked down at me with judgmental eyes. She blew a deep sigh, then opened her mouth, possibly struggling to find the words. “Listen, you watching her is a big help, but that sort of thing is, um…”

“No, no, wait. This isn’t what it looks like.” A dangerous, rotten-eyed man poking a cute little girl’s cheek… From appearances alone, it’s 100 percent criminal. If I were outside, I could even envision the incident being reported in the neighborhood newsletter, and the moms would laugh at me, Isn’t this you, cackle, cackle, cackle, while I’d have nothing to say for myself and just go Uhhh… On top of that, the silent But I trusted you… in Kawasaki’s eyes was weirdly painful, and it made my heart twinge with guilt.

“I’m just, um…” I stood up and raised my hands, showing I had no intention of resisting as I searched for the next string of excuses.

But then something stuck to my leg. Looking down, I found Keika hugging my waist. “I was keeping Haa-chan company.”

“Uh-huh, well, yeah…” I’d meant to be the one keeping her company, but from another angle, it could be taken as the little girl messing with me. And given how her cuteness and the softness of her cheeks had utterly played me, I really couldn’t say for sure that was wrong.

To have a man wrapped around her finger at this age—she’s a force to be reckoned with…!

Well, it was clear there were high hopes for her in the future. Her older sister Saki Kawasaki was, as you can see, what most people would think of as beautiful. The problem is that at a glance, she comes off kinda delinquent-ish, even girl-gang-ish.

But there was nothing intimidating or scary about the way she looked at her sister. “…I see.” A smile crossed Kawasaki’s face, as if Keika’s cherubic manner had knocked any hostility out of her, too.

Then Keika got the same big smile and, still stuck to my side, cocked her head adorably. “You wanna play, too, Saa-chan?”

“I-I’m not going to play! Come on, Kei-chan, come here.” Kawasaki pulled Keika away from me and squeezed her tight in her own arms.

Uh, no need to be so cautious. I won’t do anything, okay?

Anyway, it seemed like I could avoid causing an incident, police reports, or arrest. I let out a relieved breath.

But Kawasaki did not feel the same. Even as she petted Keika’s head, her eyes were moving, scanning the kitchen as she said, “Was it really okay for me to bring her?”

I could see where she was coming from. Just about everyone there was a high schooler. And there were kids from another school, too, so Keika’s presence was really odd. But this wasn’t exactly a public event, and it wasn’t as if we’d set any clear rules, either.

I glanced over at the table diagonally across from me. Haruno was there, chatting with Meguri. If Haruno was here, there was no point quibbling over who had the right to participate.

“Well, I’m sure it’s fine. A bunch of other people are here, too,” I said.

Kawasaki seemed convinced. “Yeah…”

Well, one of the reasons this event was being held at all was because she’d come to consult with us. I felt bad that we’d made the atmosphere uncomfortable for her, but I’d fulfill her request, at least… Not that I was doing anything myself directly.

As I was casting all around in search of the one who was going to be fulfilling that request, I heard the pitter-patter of hurried footsteps behind me.

“Ohhh, Saki. You made it!” came Yuigahama’s cheerful call. Yukinoshita was following behind her. “And good to see you again, too, Keika-chan!” Yuigahama said as she squatted down to pet her head. Yuigahama and Yukinoshita had both met Keika for the Christmas event, so they knew her.

Yukinoshita approached Keika as well, but she just kept reaching out her slightly raised hand a bit, then pulling it back again. It seemed she couldn’t quite figure out if it was okay to give her a pat or what. She’s so awkward, I thought.

But she wasn’t the only one.

After some waffling about how to greet them, a very embarrassed-looking Kawasaki murmured, “Um…thanks…for today…”

Whatever Keika thought about her sister’s behavior, she was looking up at her with an open-mouthed expression. But then she straightened her posture and made a deep bow. “Thank you very much.”

She must have learned it at preschool—she said it in a drawn-out tone, but you could feel a friendliness in her words that contrasted with her sister’s curt manner, and seeing it made my face relax in a smile. Meanwhile, Yuigahama was going yeek as she squirmed around at the cuteness, and Kawasaki was getting a little misty-eyed over her sister’s growth.

Yukinoshita’s lips pulled into an affectionate smile, too. Pressing down the hem of her skirt with a stroke, she squatted down to meet Keika at eye level and said to her slowly, “Yes. And thank you for coming. All right, then what kind of sweets should we make?” she asked.

Keika looked up at Kawasaki, and Kawasaki nodded back. “Kei-chan, what sort of sweets do you want to eat?”

Keika briefly went blank, but then she suddenly opened her mouth to say, “Eel.”

“O-okay… I see…” Those were the only words I could find. I see… Eel, huh…?

“Sorry, our family had eel recently, and she’s been really into it ever since.” Kawasaki looked down awkwardly.

But kids will often say pretty nonsensical things. She probably hadn’t given it much thought, just said whatever had left an impression on her… There was no point in taking it seriously.

Or so I thought, but Miss Yukinoshita here has her hand on her chin and is thinking about it seriously…

“So then, Unagi Pie? I could make the pastry, but I’d have to do a little research into how they deal with the eel powder…”

“Whoa, you can just make those things?” I said.

“Yes,” Yukinoshita answered as if it were obvious.

She can make anything off the rack at the convenience store, huh? And yet she can’t do anything about her own rack…

“Would you like to give it a try?” Yukinoshita asked.

Face bright red, Kawasaki shook her head hard. “I-it’s fine, whatever! Just teach me the normal stuff, something even she could make…”

“All right. So then perhaps something like truffles… I’ll go get some additional ingredients,” Yukinoshita said, and she went toward the teaching lectern at the front of the kitchen.

While waiting for her, figuring I was babysitting now, I looked over at Keika.

And then Yuigahama stole away my babysitting job. Heedless of how it made her skirt flap up, Yuigahama squatted down and got into an enthusiastic conversation with Keika. “Eel, huh, I get that! That makes me kinda want to try something like that, too!”

“Eel is so good! And, and there’s sauce and rice with it, too.”

“Right! Eel is really good, huh?”

“Yeah, the rice is good.”

“Huh? The rice…?”

They didn’t seem to be having the same conversation, but they both appeared to be enjoying themselves. With Yuigahama, I think she’s serious about trying to make Unagi Pie, unfortunately.

But regardless, with Yukinoshita and Kawasaki there, Keika would be well managed. And it looked like it’d be a while before I was up for taste-testing, too.

I’ll just go hang around somewhere until it’s my turn on deck.

Once Kawasaki and Keika had gotten started making chocolates under Yukinoshita’s direction, my babysitting job was completely over. I was yet again fully unemployed. When you’re out of work long enough, you wind up thinking maybe you’ll go pick up rocks by the riverside to sell them or something. Or no, that’s The Man Without Talent, huh?

As for Hayama, who was also there under the pretext of taste-testing like me, he was still firmly in Isshiki’s and Miura’s grasp, while the other guy doing his best to get a taste-testing job, Tobe, was being his loud self near Ebina and annoying everyone.

Haruno and Meguri had been chatting with Miss Hiratsuka the whole time. Both old and new members of student council were doing the rounds of all the tables, but Vice Prez and Miss Secretary were occasionally having smiley conversations. Seriously, do your job, Vice Prez.

With Tamanawa leading, the Kaihin crowd was having a roundtable discussion at their square table. But seeing how their hands weren’t doing any cooking, were they having another thought shower?

At this point, I really was the only one with nothing to do.

So I was just zoning out for the time being, watching from a spot where I wouldn’t get in everyone’s way, when in the corner of my eye, the door to the kitchen opened slightly.

The one with their hand on the draw must have been checking inside, as the door opened a little but then stopped.

What’s this…? Maybe there’s been a complaint from another group using the community center, saying we’re too loud…?

It seemed I was the only one who noticed the door moving, so I was more or less compelled to go check on it.

I strode up to the door but then hesitated a second.

Yikes, what if it’s some pretty young lady…? If she came in to belt out a string of complaints, I’d totally cave. But still, a corporate slave takes it for granted that someone is going to be angry with them. It’s their job to get yelled at by people. Ah well. And I’m unpaid, too. No financial return. I’m at the point of no return. Sixth layer of the Abyss. Unpaid in Abyss.

Steeling myself, I pulled the door handle, and it rattled roughly open.

And there was someone I knew well.

He looked like he was coming back from his club, in a loose windbreaker and baggy track pants. His sleeves were overlong, with only his fingertips peeking out of the cuffs, folded in front of his chest anxiously. Maybe it was just because of his general demeanor, but when he stood there with his back slightly hunched, even the nylon-y material of his jacket looked soft.

And when his eyes met with mine, he broke into a sparkly smile. “Hachiman!”

“T-Totsuka… You came.”

“Yeah. I was at club for a little while, though, so I’m here late.”

The one at the door was my classmate Saika Totsuka. I’d mentioned the event that day when our paths crossed at school, but I never expected he’d actually come.

“Oh, I’m so glad. I thought maybe I’d gotten the wrong place,” he said, looking over at the Kaihin group. Oh, they must have been the only ones Totsuka had been able to see through the cracked-open door.

Mm-hmm, some things you can’t see when you’ve got tunnel vision, huh?

Like for example, the presence of the one behind Totsuka at that moment.

“Hachimaaan!”

The one behind Totsuka was my… Just what is he to me, actually? Well, let’s call him my gym class partner. My gym class partner, Yoshiteru Zaimokuza. I don’t see him much at school, and I hadn’t said a word to him about what we were doing that day, either, but I’d kinda had a feeling he’d come. Why? Because he’s Zaimokuza. Don’t think about it too hard.

“So what about you, Zaimokuza? What do you want? You’re already leaving?” I asked.

Zaimokuza cleared his throat in a deliberate-sounding way. “Hapum, hapum. Not long ago, when I was with Sir Totsuka, Scholar Hiratsuka sent me on a quest. Therefore, I shan’t yet return.”

“She sent you on an errand? You’re still not leaving?”

“Hark, I just spake to you I shan’t yet return.” Zaimokuza waved his hands vigorously in front of his chest as he replied with a speech affectation from who knows where (or when).

But anyway, what was this errand Miss Hiratsuka sent him on…? I was wondering, when Totsuka lowered the bag over his shoulder with a huff.

“Um, she told us to go get something…,” Totsuka said as he began to rummage around inside the bag.

That was when Miss Hiratsuka noticed us and came over. “Oh, you’re here. Did you run into any trouble picking them up?”

That moment, Totsuka found what he was after from inside the bag and let out a phew before giving it to the teacher with a bright smile. “No—here you go.”

The rustling bundle he handed over was a bunch of the freezer bags they give you for taking things home when you buy food or groceries from an underground department store or a place like that. Miss Hiratsuka accepted the gleaming silver bags with a thanks to show her appreciation, then began to examine the contents.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, glad you asked. I’ll open them up over there.” Bringing the bags with her, Miss Hiratsuka strode briskly back to the window side of the cooking room, where she’d been before. Pulling out a nearby chair, she sat down with a thump. Humming and looking quite cheerful all the while, she began to lay out the contents of the freezer bags.

“You’re all eating together afterward, right? So I was thinking I’d get you something, both for munching and for reference. But I wound up ordering too much. And then I ran into these two while I was out, so I asked them to grab them for me.”

“Huh, I see,” I said.

At this time of year, you can get famous brand-name chocolate from confectioneries, department stores, and even online. Miss Hiratsuka must have used one of those services, then sent Zaimokuza and Totsuka to go pick them up.

But it seemed she’d ordered more than just one or two—she opened a number of freezer bags with different shop names on them and pulled out the contents.

The spread of high-quality chocolates drew attention even from a distance, and I could feel eyes on us.

Among the various onlookers, Haruno jumped on it with the most enthusiasm. She and Meguri strolled over and checked each one with deep interest.

“Ohhh, Shizuka-chan, you splurged, huh? I’m not surprised to see Godiva, but you’ve even got Pierre Hermé and Jean-Paul Hévin… And then Emperor Hotel and New Otani, too… Oh, and there’s even Sadaharu Aoki.”

“Heh, I might have. Just a bit.” Miss Hiratsuka must have been pleased that Haruno had recognized their value, as she preened a little.

My opinion was that chocolate was still just chocolate, but apparently, this was one of those things where if you knew, you knew. Of course, even I’ve heard of Godiva, but it seemed there were a bunch of other famous ones, too. Was that other stuff Haruno said French? Maybe? I dunno.

What’d she just say? Pi, Pie… Pierre Taki? Jean Pierre…Polnareff? I don’t really know them, but anyway. Chocolates from famous places, I guess.

After opening the fancy packaging, Miss Hiratsuka lined up the chocolates into a display as dazzling as the show window of a jewelry store.

Meguri sighed. “Wow, they look so good…”

“Aha, I knew you’d have a discerning eye, too, Meguri,” said Haruno. “These are really good. I recommend them.”

“Wait, what are you acting so proud for? I’m the one who picked them,” Miss Hiratsuka grumbled sourly at Haruno, who was puffing out her substantial chest and acting like a know-it-all.

Ahhh, Shizuka-chan is impressive as ever, loading all her stats into her hobbies… The car she drives seems super-expensive, too… Pouring all her money and passion into what she loves is so manly and cool.

I couldn’t help but gaze at her with respect for her principle of focused opulence.

I wasn’t the only one, though—Totsuka was staring at the teacher, too. “So you like sweets, Miss Hiratsuka?”

With Totsuka’s sparkling eyes on her, Miss Hiratsuka was struck speechless. “…Y-yeah, kinda… Does it, uh, not make sense for me?” Her shoulders slumped.

“Oh, I—I didn’t mean that… I—I think it suits you!” Totsuka hurriedly backpedaled.

Seeing that, Haruno giggled like she was amused. “For you, Shizuka-chan, you’d have them as a side with drinks, right? Nice, I’d like to have a drink with great chocolates like these, too.”

“It’s true—I am the type to drink with chocolate…but not today.” Miss Hiratsuka shot her a glare, and Haruno puffed up her cheeks with a pouty boo.

It was a little surprising to see them talk like this.

Haruno Yukinoshita’s actions always seem calculated, and she teases people a lot, too. But the way she’d just reacted to Miss Hiratsuka had seemed completely natural. Of course, maybe she could pull that off because her social mask was like a fortified armor shell.

I don’t know Haruno Yukinoshita at all. Yukinoshita’s older sister, Hayama’s childhood friend, Meguri’s senior, Miss Hiratsuka’s former student, a Perfect Devil Superhuman with a good social mask—though I could learn of her through such superficial pieces of information, the essential parts of her were completely obscured to me, like a bottomless bog of muddy waters.

Come to think of it, I got the feeling this was the first I’d ever seen Haruno have an extended conversation with someone older than her.

I was taken aback, and as I stared at Haruno in a daze, the surface of that bottomless bog warped.

Haruno’s shoulders dropped noticeably, and she slumped over the table to look plaintively up at Miss Hiratsuka. “That’s too bad. You should keep me company sometime! We’ve got lots to catch up on, don’t you think?”

It was a careless remark, easily taken as a social nicety.

Miss Hiratsuka responded to it with a serious gaze.

Her hands paused in their task of opening the chocolates, and she quietly folded her fingers together. Looking Haruno in the eye, she told her slowly and kindly, “Haruno. If you…actually have lots to catch up on, then I’ll keep you company any time.”

The moment that was out of her mouth, Haruno’s shoulders twitched.

From where she was flopped forward over the table, her eyes, looking up at Miss Hiratsuka, were colorless like glasswork. But for just an instant, I could almost see a flicker of blue flame behind them.

The time their gazes crossed had to be less than a second, but it seemed much longer, and I even forgot to breathe.

A giggle from Haruno broke the silence, a smile with just the corners of her lips. “Really? Then we’ve got to check our schedules. Oh, you wanna come, too, Hikigaya? Come drink with some older ladies,” she said jokingly, deliberately leaning toward me to look up at me through her lashes.

I smoothly avoided her, backing away. “I’m a minor. I can’t have alcohol. Just give me orange juice, please.”

Zaimokuza went bfft and burst out laughing. Miss Hiratsuka’s earlier seriousness evaporated, too, her shoulders trembling.

If something had been communicated between the two of them, that also meant that others wouldn’t get it at all.

Totsuka was tilting his head with an apparent question mark, and I don’t know if Meguri understood or not, but she was still smiling brightly, while as for Haruno, her eyebrows were in an inverse V as her head remained cocked to the side.

“It’s boring if you can’t drink. Well, you’re a minor, so that’s the end of that. What about you, Meguri? You wanna go?”

“Haru, I’m a minor, too. I wouldn’t mind some tea, though…”

“Ohhh, huh. Awww, what nooow? Guess I’ll call up some classmates.”

Watching Haruno click away on her phone, Miss Hiratsuka sighed deeply. “Well, call me sometime,” she said, ending the conversation, before thrusting the packages from famous chocolatiers at me. “Hikigaya, Shiromeguri. Distribute these however you like and make sure everyone gets some.”

“Okaaay. Um, how many each should I portion out?” Meguri replied, and then we began divvying up the various chocolates onto the paper plates at hand.

Miss Hiratsuka said we could hand them out however we liked, but Meguri really agonized over it for a while, hmm-hmming until she finally raised her face with a beaming smile. “Then here, Hikigaya. Please do the honors,” she said and held out some paper plates to me. It seemed she’d found a way to portion them out that satisfied her, dividing up the sweets from each chocolatier in a well-balanced manner with a variety of colors. She proudly chuckled to herself, and before I knew it, I got Megurisshed…

“Sure thing.” With a nod, I accepted the paper plates and stood, and Totsuka’s and Zaimokuza’s chairs scraped as they rose, too.

“Oh, I’ll help.”

“As shall I.”

“Yeah, then let’s all go together!” Meguri took up some paper plates and handed them to the others, and we plodded over to each table. But still, the people we were delivering to weren’t exactly spread out. If you were to broadly divide them, there were basically three groups.

Meguri headed toward the Kaihin student council, while Totsuka went to the Kawasaki sisters, Yukinoshita, and Yuigahama. Zaimokuza just accompanied Totsuka like a shadow.

Right, so then what’s left is the table where Miura and Isshiki are facing off.

As I eyed them from a distance, Miura was giving Isshiki a sharp look, which Isshiki turned aside with a composed smile, while Hayama, caught between them, maintained a charming grin the whole time. Tobe was so busy talking to him and trying to throw him a life raft that he didn’t seem to have a moment to spare to try to get Ebina’s attention.

Hmm…looks pretty bad. Actually, I don’t wanna go anywhere near that situation.

Though I’d somehow managed to approach to their table, I was worrying about how I should talk to them to hand over these snacks when Hayama noticed me.

“Pardon me for a second,” he said breezily to excuse himself, then slipped between Miura and Isshiki to come toward me. “Did you need something?”

“Ah, yeah. Miss Hiratsuka said this is, like, a present,” I said, and when I held out the paper plate, Hayama’s expression clouded slightly.

“More chocolate, huh…?”

“They’re supposed to be good.”

“…I see.” With that short reply, Hayama accepted the paper plate, then strode back to his table.

Well, now it was mission complete. Since I had finished my job of handing over the chocolate, I was about to head right back when I heard a light metallic clink behind me.

The unfamiliar sound made me turn around, and I saw Hayama flicking a canned coffee with a finger. He lightly shook the two cans in his hands, wordlessly asking me with a little smile, Want one?

Well, being caught between Miura and Isshiki this whole time, even The Hayama would feel a little tired. Maybe he wanted to use me as an excuse to rest a bit. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.

I gave a little nod yeah, and Hayama sat down at the table one away from where Miura and Isshiki were, offering me a chair as well.

When I sat down, Hayama put down the canned coffee before me with a clink. The brand was not MAX Coffee, and it was black. When I scrutinized the can, Hayama smirked at me.

“Would you rather have a sweet one?”

“It’s fine.” Even I didn’t want to be drinking something sweet right then. We were about to have chocolate, after all. Accepting the can and popping open the tab, I took a big gulp.

Hayama also downed some coffee, then blew out a phew.

Neither of us had anything to talk about, and the only sound between us was the clink of cans against the table and the call-and-response of the odd sigh, traded intermittently instead of conversation.

Around when the weight in my hand was telling me my drink was nearly done, Hayama suddenly opened his mouth to say, “But anyway. This was a great idea.”

“Huh?” I replied with a serious look, not understanding what he meant by this sudden remark.

He smiled kindly, looking very much like the Hayato Hayama everyone knew so well. “With this setup, everyone…everyone can act naturally,” he said, then slowly scanned the kitchen. Following his gaze, I could see a number of things.

Miura, glaring at a scale with a serious expression; Isshiki, whistling as she used an oven; Yuigahama with her face covered in flour; and Yukinoshita, watching her and holding her head in her hands.

Eventually, Hayama’s eyes returned to me. His expression seemed lonely, a slight wry smile that was very like the Hayato Hayama I knew.

The “everyone” Hayama described.

Who did that refer to? Who was included in his “everyone”? With this vague realization, I looked away from him, drinking down the harsh bitterness of the canned coffee.

When I didn’t reply to his monologuing, Hayama suddenly went pfft and burst into laughter. “And now Tobe can get some chocolate, too, so he’s happy,” he said jokingly.

I looked over at Tobe, who had succeeded in getting to taste-test whatever Ebina was in the middle of making, and he was loudly going off about how it was so great and whoa or whatever. Oh, he’s been giving this his all, huh? …Although I think the challenges with Ebina are only going to get harder from here on out. For people like her, there are many stages in opening their heart. She wasn’t the only one; imagining someone else with a similar mental construction, I found myself smiling crookedly.

But for now anyway, I’d give Tobe props for putting up a brave fight. In my own way, though. “Not like I care about chocolate or Tobe, though… Especially Tobe.”

“Ha-ha! You’re so mean.” Laughing, Hayama also tossed his bitter coffee back in one go. Giving the can a light shake, checking if it was empty, he stood to go throw out the can.

Miura must have caught sight of him then, as she called out to him in a plaintive, cutesy voice. “Hayatooo!”

“Coming,” Hayama replied. He turned back one last time, giving me a brief “See ya,” before he went off to the table where Miura and Isshiki were waiting.

I watched him go, then brought my empty coffee can to my lips one more time.

The highlight of the cooking class was almost here.

The quicker workers had already stuck their batter in the oven or their chocolate into the fridge to chill, entering the final stage before completion.

Despite all of Haruno’s chattering, she’d largely finished her process without me even noticing it. And not just her—Meguri, who’d been helping the others along, as well as the old student council members, was also nearing the end. At this point, the only thing left was to pour the chocolate into molds or put on toppings and decorations and whatnot.

What kind of multitasking capacity does she have? She always comes through with accomplishments I can’t even begin to understand, in more ways than one…

But even she must have gotten tired of helping out other people, as now she was butting in on Yukinoshita’s business to kill time.

“What’d you make, Yukino-chan? Big Sis wants to taste-test, too!” Haruno kept bothering her, but Yukinoshita completely ignored it. Right now, she was supervising Yuigahama and Miura.

Under Yukinoshita’s watchful eye, Miura was pouring batter into a pan, while Yuigahama was firmly pressing a cookie cutter into dough.

It seemed Haruno didn’t like being blatantly ignored. “Heeey, Yukino-chaaan!” she whined.

“…Haruno. Yukinoshita seems busy right now.” Hayama offered the two of them a strained smile, going to Haruno’s side to pacify her. You’d expect all this racket would distract Miura, so maybe he was trying to be considerate.

Miura and Yuigahama weren’t the only ones focused on their tasks. Isshiki was squeezing out whipped cream, her attention completely devoted to making her decorations cute. As for the Kawasaki sisters, Keika’s whole face was covered in chocolate, but she’d finished off some things that looked like truffles, and Saki Kawasaki was busy taking pictures of her. Uh, just how thoroughly do you plan to record this…?

Everyone was busy with their work. Maybe it’s about time for my taste-testing job soon, I thought as I zoned out while watching so as to avoid getting in the way.

That was when Orimoto wandered over. When she found me at loose ends, she said, “Hikigaya. Are there any extra chocolate molds?”

“Y-yeah… Hold on a sec.”

The Kaihin group was almost done, too. Considering how much they’d loudly babbled on to each other about what they were going to make, it was surprising they’d made so much progress.

After I told Orimoto to wait, I went to Yukinoshita. “Sorry, do you have extra molds?”

“There’s some over there, so if you need them, you may take them.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I wasn’t the one to make that reply.

The answer had come from Kaori Orimoto, who’d been following behind me.

When Orimoto popped up, Yukinoshita gave her a questioning look and fell silent. Then, since the voice giving instructions had paused, Yuigahama curiously glanced up.

Orimoto’s Kaihin uniform stood out a bit among the Soubu High School crowd. She was gathering attention now, but she didn’t seem bothered by it as she closely examined each and every mold.

Then suddenly, like it was nothing at all to her, she muttered, “…Oh yeah, have I ever given any to you, Hikigaya?”

The question had been a genuine one, and I couldn’t help but make a face. So she doesn’t remember, huh? Of course she doesn’t.

Since middle school, Orimoto had been the sort of person to give obligatory chocolate to anyone, boy or girl, but I, who didn’t even count as one of the faceless masses, had not been a recipient.

Indulging in a bit of nostalgia as I tried to remember how I’d reacted at that time, I wound up replying a little slow.

A number of throats cleared during that silence, and tableware clinked restlessly. When I looked over, I saw Yukinoshita with her hand on her chin, gaze focused on me, while Yuigahama was turning away and fidgeting with her hands, and Isshiki was making noises of comprehension as she nodded with deep interest. Meanwhile, Kawasaki was goggling at us, open-mouthed, and Tamanawa kept clearing his throat and blowing long sighs that tossed up his bangs. Mr. Tamanawa, you’re being just a mite obnoxious…

“Uh…of course not.” The memories of ancient history did not dig into my chest, and I think I was able to reply fairly naturally, for me.

Just as naturally, Orimoto cackled, loud and careless. “Oh, then I’ll give you some this year.”

“Huh? Well, uh, I see…” Her unexpected reply easily unraveled my attempt to handle this smoothly, causing me to stutter. Though you could actually call this my natural state, in a way… Yikes, I’m a creep, aren’t I?

“Then once it’s done, come have some,” she said without hesitation, taking the molds and striding back to where she’d been.

If she’s gonna be like that, then I can’t refuse out of hand, but maybe she was just being polite… Agonizing over the question, I followed Orimoto’s back with my eyes as she left.

Well, I’m sure this was just Kaori Orimoto’s typical easygoing attitude, that I was misunderstanding something. It didn’t mean anything. Now that I was able to not read into this fact, twist it or misinterpret it, and just accept it, I let out a little sigh along with a smile.

Looking back to the table with a mild feeling of satisfaction, my eyes met with those of Haruno, by the window.

She was grinning broadly, after watching our exchange apparently. Whatever she’d seen, she found it tremendously amusing.

Then that mild smile transformed into something sadistic. Her lips pulled slightly upward, a sharpness entering her narrowed eyes. She turned to Hayama. “That reminds me—a long time ago, you got some from Yukino-chan, didn’t you, Hayato?”

She made it sound like she was talking to Hayama, while in fact, she spoke loud enough that anyone there could hear it.

Yukinoshita had committed to ignoring her so well, but now she finally reacted. She turned to Haruno with a startled look that turned into a silent glare.

Yukinoshita was not the only one there speechless; Miura froze on the spot, too. Isshiki mouthed a silent Yikes.

I pulled a face. You didn’t have to bring that up in front of Miura and Isshiki, I thought as I scratched my head vigorously. Or tried to; I’m not sure when my fingers had curled into fists.

Yukinoshita didn’t deny what Haruno had said, giving me an uncomfortable look instead. She seemed taken aback and bewildered by this dredging up of ancient history, and she was biting the edge of her lip as her eyes moved around restlessly.

I think I was probably giving a similar impression. Something was lodged firmly at the back of my throat like clogged phlegm, and I had this nasty feeling, like something scraping its way up from the pit of my stomach.

Yukinoshita’s face turned down, and I looked away, too. And in the direction I turned, there was an anxious and concerned Yuigahama.

The silence was short, but it felt much longer than it was. I let out a deep sigh to break it, but I couldn’t think of the appropriate thing to say.

“Yep, right around the end of elementary school. She gave some to both of us.”

The one with the most correct answer for that occasion was Hayama.

With the most wonderful, charming smile possible, he answered smoothly and avoided the issue altogether. Haruno looked a little disappointed.

Miura breathed a sigh of relief, and Isshiki let out a reassured phew as well.

But Haruno Yukinoshita’s expression turned cold. She eyed Hayama with casual disinterest, then moved away from the window side as if to say she was done here. Hayama watched her go with a tinge of sadness on his face.

Then Haruno came to stand by Yukinoshita. “So who do you plan to give this to, Yukino-chan?”

Her tone was teasing, her smile cheerful. If you weren’t paying close attention to this, this would be a cute joke between sisters. The way Yukinoshita turned her face away would be easy to interpret as innocent sulking at her big sister’s teasing.

“…It’s not really any of your business.”

“Aww, you won’t give any to your big sis?” Haruno said jokingly with a giggle.

But Yukinoshita gave her a sullen little glare. “Of course I’m not. There’s no reason for me to, and you haven’t exactly given me any.”

“Hmm, true.” Haruno nod-nodded, apparently convinced. Then she sighed and smiled wryly. “Well, if you say you’re not giving me any, then I know you definitely won’t. You’ve never been one to lie.”

I’d had a very similar impression of Yukino Yukinoshita before. But Haruno Yukinoshita’s understanding of her was more comprehensive than mine had been then.

“But sometimes you don’t say the truth.” The temperature of Haruno’s look had dropped now, to penetrating cold. She giggled. “You didn’t say you wouldn’t give them to anyone. So you must be giving them to someone after all.”

Yukinoshita continued to keep silent, sending icy daggers her sister’s way. But Haruno took it resolutely, maintaining her smile. “Well, though there are only a limited few people you’d give any to.”

“This is silly. Say whatever you please.” Yukinoshita moved her hands instead of her mouth, aiming to end the conversation. She reached out for the empty tray and bowl in front of her, making particularly loud rattling noises as she began the task of cleaning up.

With that little scene between the Yukinoshita sisters done, the kitchen regained its bustle and chatter with a distinct sense of peace.

I sighed, and then there was a loud clanging sound. Looking toward it, I saw a bowl spinning around on the floor toward me. As the noise resounded in the air, a weak voice joined it.

“I-I’m sorry…” Blushing red to her ears, Yukinoshita didn’t even raise her head as she hurried over to pick up the bowl.

It’s unusual for her to make a careless mistake, I thought as I squatted down to pick up the bowl at my feet.

Then my eyes met with hers, as we squatted down at the exact same moment. We were both frozen halfway, as if we were both trying to figure out whether to reach for it.

Face-to-face with only a few centimeters between us, my fingers almost touched her, and I jerked them back.

Why’re you getting rattled? You’re gonna shake me up, too.

“Uh…” Adding a brief “Sorry” as I turned away, I yielded the spot to her.

Yukinoshita hastily reached for the bowl.

But the bowl was tipped over with its edge on the floor and was wobbling around too much to grab; with another clang, it rolled away.

The ringing sound as it kept rolling away was loud in my ears. Even once the bowl had come to a stop, the sound stayed in my ears and never stopped ringing.

The sound was finally silenced when someone scooped up the bowl.

Looking up, I saw Yuigahama spinning it around her fingers, chuckling smugly to herself. “Heh, you’ve still got a long ways to go, Yukinon. I manage bowls and cooking things perfectly.”

Seeing her bright smile brought a sigh of relief from me. The thing that had been stuck in my chest this whole time melted away, freeing up a snarky remark that allowed me to stand. “…Uh, you’re a disaster with everything else, though.”

“Indeed… Thanks.” Yukinoshita smiled, too, showing her appreciation to Yuigahama before reaching out to take the bowl from her. Yuigahama gave her a little nod back. But then after she handed over the bowl, she looked at her own empty palm in a way that seemed sad, and she lightly squeezed her fist.

The reaction bothered me, and I stared dumbly at her. I could have sworn I’d seen that look on her face before.

As I searched my memory, wondering just when that had been, I slid down and slumped into my seat by the wall.

When I groaned to myself, I got the feeling that someone, somewhere, giggled.

An appetizing aroma had begun to fill the kitchen.

There were a few people camped in front of the oven, waiting with anticipation for the baking to be done. Miura was the most serious of that group, continuously staring through the glass window.

Once the baking was finished, it would finally be time to taste-test. I would also be relinquishing my unemployment signboard to finally do my job.

So as to prepare for that time, I was taking a quiet break away from the crowd of people when there was a clap on my shoulder from behind.

I turned around to see Miss Hiratsuka standing there. She held a paper plate with some of the chocolates—there must have been some extras from her gifts.

“This has been a good event,” she said, then pulled up a chair beside me and pushed the paper plate at me, urging me to have some.

Accepting one with gratitude, I replied, “Yeah, although it hasn’t really made much sense as an event.” I didn’t even know if this technically counted. It felt like just a bunch of different people thrown together and doing what they wanted.

Maybe Miss Hiratsuka understood that, too, as she chuckled in amusement. Then she surveyed the kids in the kitchen with warm eyes. “That’s fine. You don’t exactly make much sense yourself. You or the people you hang out with. This was basically inevitable.”

“I don’t…? Don’cha think that’s kinda mean?”

“Well, I suppose you’ve come to make a little more sense to me than before.” Miss Hiratsuka gave a teasing grin, then popped a chocolate into her mouth. “You revise your impression of a person every day, through living and growing together.”

“I don’t really feel like I’ve grown, though. I’m always doing the same thing.”

“But you still do change, a little,” she said as she munched on the chocolate before gulping it down and wiping her lips with her thumb. The gesture was less sexy and more boyish, and it made me chuckle.

It was true; maybe my impression of Miss Hiratsuka had changed a little. So the way others saw me would have done the same.

But in that change, there was a fear I couldn’t put into words.

“Have I…changed? Hearing that feels kind of weird,” I said.

“Does it?” Miss Hiratsuka tilted her head, then quietly examined my face.

Embarrassed, I jerked my face away as I hurriedly continued. “Uh, it just feels kinda wrong.”

When I tried putting that into words, those words actually seemed to fit.

It was something that had been dogging me all this time.

At moments, I’d become aware of it, of this thing that was clearly different from before. Every time I engaged with someone, it’d suddenly well up from the inside, and I’d start asking myself, Is this right?

“Kinda wrong, huh? …I hope you don’t forget that feeling,” Miss Hiratsuka said with a hint of nostalgia in her voice as she looked far off into the distance. The way she spoke, it was like she was talking to me, but also like it was directed at someone else.

But it turned out she actually was addressing me, as her eyes came back to my face. “I think that’s a sign of legitimate growth. Once you’re an adult, you get good at pushing that aside. So right now, I want you to take a good look at it. It’s something important.”

“They say you can’t see the important stuff, though,” I shot back.

She chuckled. “Don’t look with your eyes. Look with your heart.”

“What, like, ‘Don’t think, feel’? This isn’t the Force…” What’s she talking about? Why is she smirking? She just wants to be in a shonen manga…, I thought, giving her a dull look.

She seemed a little embarrassed, unsurprisingly, clearing her throat with a deliberate-sounding gefum. “It’s the other way. Don’t feel, think,” she corrected, with none of her earlier humor on her face. Her eyes were entirely sincere and gentle as she spoke, slowly and quietly. “Keep on thinking about that feeling, always.”

“Always?” I repeated that word, digesting it.

Miss Hiratsuka nodded. “Yes, always. Then you might eventually understand, right? While you’re walking, you never look back on how far you’ve come. But for someone who’s stopped walking, the distance you’ve moved forward will feel like a betrayal…” She cut off there, then gazed out at each of the people in the kitchen in turn. “I’m glad I got to see all this up close, right now,” she said, then stood up with a hup. She clapped a hand on my shoulder and murmured, “…After all, I can’t keep an eye on you forever.”

By the time I turned toward her voice, she was already stretching wide with a hnn, trying to get the stiffness out of her shoulders and conveniently hiding her expression.

She cracked her neck, and then by the time she turned back to me again, she was the usual Miss Hiratsuka. “All right, time for me to get back to work.”

“You’re not gonna eat before you go?”

“Nah, I’ve got work piled up… There isn’t much time now before March, so I want to get things dealt with.” With a shy ah-ha-ha, she scratched her cheek. Then she raised a casual hand good-bye, giving it a flutter before she walked off. Heels clicking on the floor, Miss Hiratsuka jauntily strode out of the cooking room.

As I watched her go, I popped a chocolate into my mouth.

I’d just picked up one at random, and as it dissolved into me like my teacher’s words, it left behind a faint bitter aftertaste.