7

What Hina Ebina sees through the lens is…

I really, really didn’t want to go to school.

More specifically, I didn’t want to go into the classroom.

Well, to be honest, I didn’t want to see Hayato Hayama.

To be both honest and specific, I extremely did not want to see Hayama and suddenly get awkward about it, while he acts like it’s nothing and has a normal day.

No.

To speak the honest truth from my heart, I didn’t want to see him pretend to have a normal day, then catch a glimpse of his pain when he thought no one was looking.

The night before, I’d basically said my piece and ran instead of saying good-bye, so I hadn’t really seen his response. His mouth had dropped open, and he’d reacted with something between shock and exasperation, like you would if you’d stumbled across some rare beast. I’d figured whatever he said would be way too much trouble, so I’d feigned ignorance and made a break for it.

In the classroom that morning, I sneaked a glance at Hayama and the rest of the group chatting by the window like always, then immediately went facedown on my desk.

Nothing any different from the usual. Just dawn light shining in through the window and energetic conversations with bright voices.

But just for a moment, in his smile, I’d picked up faint signs of distress.

Maybe that smile hadn’t really meant anything. Maybe that had been his usual charming mask. If so, that distress was just me reading into it, or even projecting something from myself.

This was why I’d never wanted to have a real conversation with Hayama. Things I’d been pretending not to see were being vividly shoved in my face, and all it brought me was guilt. Hayama had to feel the same, too.

Ultimately, Hayama and I couldn’t even become mirrors to each other; we just kept seeking out mistakes in one another while we selfishly vented our irritation. I know I do that, which is why I make an effort not to look at him.

Still, it hadn’t all been bad. Thanks to that night, I did manage to feel certain about one thing. Verbalizing it solidified my awareness of that goal.

That BS about a man’s pride had been worth it.

I didn’t look at Hayama after that, and the time passed aimlessly.

I lifted my face from my desk, glaring at the clock hanging on the wall. With yet another deep sigh, I stared at the hands, which were going far slower than usual.

Though it was my own seat, it felt weirdly uncomfortable. All I could think about was how I wanted school to hurry up and be over already.

C’mon, just end…

Despite all my wishing, once school actually was over and I dashed out of the classroom, I arrived at the UG Club room and found myself sighing again.

It began with my report.

“…And so Hayama will not be offering his cooperation.” Remembering what had happened the day before, a bitter smile crossed my face.

But the other faces present were muuuch more bitter.

“Whaaat…?”

“That’s not good…”

“All avenues exhausted…”

Hatano and Sagami were both taking the news grimly, while Zaimokuza was in deep distress.

Yuigahama was the only one forcing herself to smile as she consoled the others. “C-come on, guys… We still haven’t talked with Kaihin and stuff yet. Right, Hikki?”

“Exactly right. So first, we contact Kaihin,” I said, turning toward Yuigahama.

But she just let her arms flop under the table and cocked her head. “Huh, what?”

“Huh? I mean, their number…”

“…Huh? Me? Don’t you know it, Hikki?” Yuigahama’s head tilted from one side to the other.

And then silence fell.

That instant was like staring dominoes. I glanced at Zaimokuza, who looked over at Sagami, who nodded at Hatano, who glared at me. Once we’d done a full circle, my eyes went back to Yuigahama.

“So you don’t know… I kinda don’t wanna make the call…They might think it’s weird if I contact them out of the blue…” Yuigahama sighed, a little tired, then pulled her phone out of her pocket.

I gave her a lukewarm look that said, It’s okay, it’s okay, all boys worry about that at some point; they’re definitely gonna think you’re weird regardless. Girls just all think like, “Why is he suddenly asking about what’s been assigned for homework…?” Yuigahama glanced back at me.

“But hey, Hikki, don’t you know, um…Orimoto’s number?”

“I deleted it,” I answered instantly.

“Erk…” Yuigahama froze with her phone in hand, speechless.

“You normally delete numbers like that the minute you graduate middle school, right? I’m never gonna see those people again, after all. It’s a waste of storage,” I snapped.

“That’s not normal, okay?!” Yuigahama instantly retorted.

But the reaction from the others was less aggressive—in fact, they were on my side here, nodding in agreement.

Yuigahama did a double, then a triple take. “Huh?! I’m the weird one here?!” She slapped a hand to her forehead with a groan.

“But, like, you exchanged numbers with her, right?” I asked.

“…Just in case, since I was kinda in charge of contacts for the Christmas event. Though I’ve never really talked with her…” As Yuigahama approached the latter half of her sentence, her voice gradually faded out, and her shoulders drooped.

Thinking back, I did get the feeling Yuigahama had mostly been patching up our flubs and contacting people and managing money stuff. But the boys from Kaihin were impossible to talk to, across the board. So she must have been talking with Orimoto and the girls.

Yuigahama and Orimoto had met a bunch of times, but I’d never seen them having a friendly conversation. In fact, there was more of an uncomfortable tension between them.

Yuigahama was a communication skills monster, and Orimoto was a conformity beast, but maybe they weren’t very compatible. Well, their initial meeting was a bit of a unique situation… Admittedly, that was not something we could have avoided… In fact, it was Hayama’s fault, wasn’t it?! That’s it! Well, of course I wouldn’t say I had absolutely nothing to do with the matter…

Being aware of that, I lowered my voice a little as I proposed, “If you could tell me her number, then I’ll send it.”

Yuigahama’s eyes rose from the blank screen of her phone to me, and then she puffed up her cheeks. “Hikki, you don’t have LINE.”

“Ngh.” As expected of modern youth, their methods of contact are too high tech… Oh, I want to use PreCure stamps as much as anyone, you know? But there aren’t enough people for me to keep in contact with, so not using it doesn’t cause me any problems…

Oh, I do feel bad for leaving all communications to Yuigahama. But while I was worrying about that, she was starting to tap away on LINE when I heard some grumbling on the other side of the table.

“How the hell does this guy even function, not using LINE…?”

“He must be a primitive… A Chiba primitive…”

“He has such love for Chiba, he hasn’t evolved at all since the Chibanian epoch. His geomagnetic polarity is still reversed, so he cannot use LINE or other messaging apps. He’s still monkeying around on his phone-carrier e-mail address.”

“That’s not true at all. I use web mail and SMS like anyone else,” I argued a bit more heatedly than I would have liked. The three guys did not seem convinced.

“I never use e-mail these days…”

“He’s got to be from the Jomon period… Does he come from the Kasori Shell Mounds?”

“Herm, but the times have changed a tad. Let us begin Hachiman Postal!”

The three glasses crowd were all snickering. I knew Hatano had a mouth on him, but Sagami can be nasty, too. His sister is a little cuter… Lol nope.

Whoops, this isn’t the time to be giving these guys my attention.

When I glanced over, like, All right then, how is that message going? Yuigahama was mumbling as her fingers tapped and swiped.

“Ummm…so then what should I ask?” she said.

“For now, attach the prom proposal as a file and say we want to have a meeting about it as soon as possible. Offer today, tomorrow, or the day after as dates.”

“File…attach. Attach…?”

Yuigahama chanted File Attach! …But it missed! Yuigahama is confused!

It does sound like Fire Attack, though, I’ll admit. But silly ol’ Yuigahama, it seems she doesn’t quite understand how she might attach a file! I’m not even sure she knows what attach means…

At this point, Sagami the younger could no longer bear to stand by and watch. He pushed up his glasses and asked with mild politeness, “Oh, you have to upload it to the cloud first. What are you using for storage?”

“Suto…reeji…?” Yuigahama repeated the English term with a shake of her head.

Breathing out a big agh, Hatano shook his head. “This isn’t gonna work. She doesn’t get it at all… Are you going to upload it to Dropbox or something?”

“Herm… Would a file transfer not be easier to understand? One may simply send the URL.” Zaimokuza folded his hands and tilted his head.

“Ahhh, yeah.” I snapped my fingers. “I’m borrowing the computer,” I said, drawing the UG Club laptop toward me over the table. With a tata-tap, I uploaded the proposal document to a file transfer service and issued a URL. While I was at it, I also wrote out a line asking about their schedule and sent it to Yuigahama.

“You can just copy-paste this,” I said.

“O-okay…I get copy-paste…” Yuigahama smiled, then started tapping on her phone again. We watched her do that. Eventually, she breathed a tired phew.

“Were you able to send it?” I asked.

“Yeah, basically…” Yuigahama combed at her bun shyly, and everyone smiled and nodded at each other with satisfaction. What’s this “princess of a male otaku club” feeling here…? Just now, even Zaimokuza was attempting to be useful… What a fearsome girl this Gahama is…

But anyway! Right now, we were waiting for a response.

Meanwhile, I spent my time checking over the website Hatano and Sagami were working on, playing the client from hell: It’s looking great! It’s looking great, but I also kinda want to see three more variations! It’s okay if it takes until Monday!

Eventually, Yuigahama’s phone vibrated.

“It’s them?” I asked.

“Mm, no. It’s Yumiko. Asking what time today.” She brought the phone softly to her lips and looked at me.

Oh, so it’s about modeling for the photo shoot… “Sunset is around five thirty, so I guess we meet up at four thirty. So, like, we get everything ready, then wait for the sunset as we do the shoot,” I said.

“Mm, okay,” said Yuigahama, typing up the reply. Keeping her in the corner of my eye, I glanced out the window.

The weather that day was sunny, just as the report had predicted the day before.

There were a few clouds, but that would make the sunset even prettier.

Glancing up at the inclining sun, I began getting ready for the shoot.

As the sun set, the wind on the beach grew even colder, and the scent of salt grew stronger. The peaceful, mild waves washed in and out, sparkling under the light with every surge.

Narrowing my eyes against the bright, burning red of the sunset, I dropped the bags I was carrying on the sandy beach with a thump. I made the gazebo near the top of the beach our waiting spot as I got things ready for the shoot.

I thudded down the tub and the multiple hot-water pots I’d borrowed from the school, plus the disposable heating pads I’d bought from a hundred-yen shop. People swam here in the summer, so there was a public shower nearby, but obviously we weren’t going to use it at this time of year. So I’d brought the basin and hot water to wash off a little of the seawater and sand, if the girls got wet or dirty. We also needed hot water for serving warm drinks to our models, so I’d brought quite a bit.

Zaimokuza, who’d carried everything this far, seemed mildly disturbed. “What incredible potential you have as an assistant director…”

“Not at all. I would have liked some blankets or long down coats, if I could have gotten them.”

That, or a campfire stand… Maybe I should finally start conditioning myself for solo camping. I mean, if I was sending these girls out into the raging winds, that level of preparation would be essential. I would have liked to be perfectly ready for the cold, but my time and funds were limited, after all.

At my comment about the coats, Zaimokuza immediately clenched the collar of his own. “I-I’m not giving you this!”

“I don’t want it…” I obviously don’t want that. That goes double for the girls.

Now how are our models doing? On the benches a ways away, I saw Yumiko Miura, constantly rubbing and hugging her arms to keep warm.

“Agh! It’s so cold! Yui, gimme a hot pad, c’mon!”

“On your back? Or stomach?”

“Both!”

Miura flipped up the bottom of her blazer and exposed the back of her blouse, and Yuigahama stuck the hot pad right there. There’s something strangely naughty about that image. I feel like I’ve seen something I shouldn’t… Not that it’s gonna stop me from watching.

Anyway, they were apparently done getting ready, too.

I asked Zaimokuza to handle carrying things, while I headed off toward Yuigahama and the girls with the camera. “Your help is appreciated. Thanks for today.” I bowed my head casually.

“…What?” Miura seemed incredibly skeptical, staring at me like you’d stare at a muntjac in the city. Come on, it’s not that surprising; there’s more muntjac in Chiba lately—there’s too many, and people are always going “Oh! Deer!” and I wonder what I did wrong this time.

“Thanks for having us.” Next to her, Ebina waved a hand with a bright smile.

Miura froze for a moment but then snapped out of it. “…Ahhh, mm.” She jerked her face away and glanced over at Yuigahama, but then she suddenly said, “Well, it’s just ’cause Yui asked,” as she boinged her curls. Maybe it was just the sunset, but her cheeks were kind of pink. My, my, it seems as if you’re a teensy bit shy there? Tee-hee-hee…

But it wasn’t the time to be enjoying such heartwarming scenes. The sunset wouldn’t last forever. “Then can we get started?” I said.

“Ah, yeah.” Yuigahama nodded back at me, then prompted Miura and Ebina to follow her a bit down the beach. I trailed after them, feeling the crisp sand underfoot.

Once they were down at the water’s edge, I called out to them to stop for a moment, took a few steps back, and raised the camera.

First, I wanted to get a rough idea of the image I needed and get a sense for the composition.

I set the lens to a wide angle, capturing a big swath of the sunset, and focused slightly over the horizon. That pale boundary between the sky and ocean was sparkling with reflected light. The sandy beach lay in front of them, just growing dark, while the water’s edge was beginning to ooze orange, and then the gradation was complete with the crimson melting between the clouds. I was capturing Miura’s and Yuigahama’s backs such that the right side of the camera screen was a little out of focus.

With the sunset in the background, even the way the two girls stood was unique.

Miura’s hands were thrust into her coat pockets as she gazed out over the twilit sea, sighing with awe, while Yuigahama kept glancing back like she was concerned about me.

I snapped the shutter a bunch of times, waving them over to where I wanted them to stand or focusing on my own positioning. It was obviously cold this whole time, so I made sure they wore coats, and sweatpants under their skirts. …This might be a thing, in its own way. Kinda like I’ve sneaked into a girl’s school, you know!

So I was thinking, peering through the finder, when Miura muttered, “Ugh, so cold,” for my benefit and flicked a glare back at me. “Hikio, hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am…” I raised my camera once more.

The red glow of the sunset drew closer, seeping into the clouds.

I tried taking a bunch of test shots, but they were mediocre. I’d meant to make them the same as the reference photos, but the framing just wasn’t working.

Girls in uniforms standing side by side on the coast in the sunset—it should have been the simplest thing in the world, but I couldn’t pin it down. To put it bluntly, it was all blah. But I wanted to make the kind of thing you’d see in a pamphlet at HIS with text like Trip to Hawaii!! or a cover like We were here…

Camera in hand, I was twisting my brain when Ebina popped up from behind me. “Let me try,” she said, immediately snatching the camera out of my grasp. “For this, you do it like this, here.” She snapped the shutter a few times, then returned the camera to me.

I checked the previews and sure enough, she’d totally nailed the composition I’d had in mind. “Ohhh, this looks kinda pro…”

“Right?” Ebina puffed out her chest with a smug chuckle. “Aaand next…,” she said in a singsong tone, then trotted over to Yuigahama and Miura. Then she attacked the both of them with a cry, ripping off their coats and sweatpants.

“Hurr-hurr-hurr, let it happen, let it happen!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Ebina, you jerk!” As Miura resisted, Ebina kept coming after her, pulling off her shoes, then trying to get her socks off, too. Is she Datsue-ba? A scene like something out of “Rashomon” was unfolding right in front of me.

“I’ll take them off myself! I got it, okay?!” Yuigahama flailed and scampered away, pulling off her shoes and socks and tossing them aside. Miura’s resistance was in vain as Ebina shoved her down and yanked her socks right off.

Thereupon I was humbly witness to Miura’s exalted legs. I may have also borne witness to a flash of what was under her skirt, but I instantly jerked my face aside and snapped the shutter. It’s not like that! My fingers just, like, happened to go snap, snap. Reflexes, you know.

“It’s cold!” Yuigahama hopped around on the spot, while Miura shivered, confused by this fresh surprise.

“Eek! Huh?! The sand’s so cold!”

“Tee-hee-hee, if you’re in uniform on the beach, you’ve really got to be barefoot!” With a satisfied meh-heh-heh, Ebina pattered back toward me. While I was nodding with understanding, Ebina extended a hand. It seemed she was going to take pictures for me. Excellent. It’s best to leave this sort of thing to someone with taste!

When I obediently handed over the camera, Ebina complained a bit about strobe daylight synchro and subject depth or whatever as she raised the camera. “Okayyy, cheese!” she called out, and the other two girls stood still on the beach.

Perhaps because of the cold, they huddled together, and Yuigahama suddenly grabbed Miura’s hand. It seemed they were quietly discussing something, but because of the distance and the wind, I couldn’t catch it.

But those secretive smiles were beautiful enough to make my heart stutter.

The instant when day ends and night begins is so fleeting—maybe this was one of those moments.

As I was caught entranced, Ebina let out a little phew and lowered the camera. “We’ll take the rest more casually, so just have fun and do what you want!” she yelled to the other girls before returning the camera to me. So I needed to take over from here. If she was gonna tell me Don’t stop the camera! then I had no choice but to obey, snap-snapping as the girls ran around messing with each other.

“Yui, I’ll get wet! I’ll get wet! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!”

“Wait, wait!” Miura and Yuigahama rushed up to the water’s edge, and when the waves approached, they ran away shrieking.

“Hmm, that’s a nice shot…” Beside me was Ebina, who had started taking more pictures with her phone.

“Uh, I invited you so that you would be in some of these,” I said.

Keeping her eyes on her phone, Ebina answered, “Come ooon. They’re all pretty and dressed up; they’re a great pairing. I’m not gonna make it anyone’s OT3.”

“Oh, I see…”

“Well, I think you and Hayato could be an option as subjects, though. Heh-heh-heh… And then you and Hayato…” With a terrifying smile—a slasher smile, if you will—Ebina chuckled at me.

“I think this is sexual harassment,” I said, moving precisely three steps away.

Puffing out her chest, Ebina declared, “It’s okay. I’m not very sexy. I don’t even understand what sexual harassment from someone with no sex appeal would be.”

“Uh, you’re making it kinda hard to answer… Is that not also sexual harassment?” I’d never thought of Ebina that way, so it was difficult to answer. Except I’ve actually just started thinking of her like that right now, though!

Anyway, I still don’t know the correct response when a girl says something like I’m just not cute, you know. I think the majority of the time, they’re trying to get a That’s not true at all! out of you, but when it came to Hina Ebina here, I had the feeling she wasn’t the type.

When I failed to respond, Ebina turned her gaze to the horizon. Then she carefully pressed down the seat of her skirt as she squatted, leaning her chin on her knees as she muttered, “…That sort of thing is a hassle.”

“What sort of thing?”

“Like romance, or love, or sex.”

“Ah, I guess… I don’t really want to talk about that sort of thing, though. Too embarrassing.” I wound up looking away. Hearing her say that so openly, in such a serious tone, was so awkward. And that wasn’t even getting into how this discussion was not purely theoretical, but an actually real thing to me. It wasn’t a topic I would like to talk about voluntarily.

But when I answered, Ebina’s shoulders quavered in laughter. “Don’t you think that’s why we can talk about that stuff? Because we’re not interested?”

“…Well, true.” If she was going to put it that way, I wouldn’t say no.

In a way, I trusted how Hina Ebina distanced herself. She kept it easy—not so far as to be a stranger, not close enough to be a friend, never breaking in her stance of acquaintance or neighbor.

With no intention of ever closing that distance, Ebina continued talking on her own. “Well, won’t things work out somehow?”

Her answer was so vague and unspecific, it felt like it would be rude not to answer, so I asked briefly, “What will?”

“Because in the end, you’re different from me, Hikigaya.”

I remembered hearing that cool tone a number of times. I couldn’t see her eyes, fixed on Miura and Yuigahama, but behind those lenses, I’m sure her eyes were like the deep ocean.

“…Did you hear something?” I asked.

Ebina finally glanced over to me. “From who? About what?” Her cool eyes didn’t reflect the color of the sunset. Her lips widened teasingly, and it was a bit uncomfortable.

I gave her a casual shrug, then dropped my eyes to the camera in my hands. “Oh, it’s nothing, never mind,” I said to avoid the issue.

Ebina turned back to the water’s edge again, to Yuigahama and Miura running around like puppies. “…It’s obvious anyway, you know. I think I’m sort of involved in it, too. The rest, I guess I just kind of heard about from Yui.”

So she did hear about it after all…

Was this why she’d gone to the trouble to come talk to me? I didn’t know exactly what she’d heard, but I couldn’t bring myself to be interested in prying.

But it bothered me a little that it was so transparent. I don’t think I’m such a simple person, and it annoys me that someone would understand this situation so easily. I was doing this after some decent consideration of the matter, so that flippant comment and know-it-all expression didn’t sit well with me.

Still, they do say a third party can have a better perspective on things. More often than you think, someone else will see your situation better than you. And if that someone else was Hina Ebina, then all the more so.

I put on a bit of a poker face and pretended to fiddle with the camera, asking my question in a more roundabout way. “…Can everyone tell that sort of thing?” I didn’t want to seem too deeply interested.

“Obviously, Hayato can, right? And you know Tobecchi—he’s not interested in anything else to begin with. And Yumiko…let’s not go there.”

“Huh? The hell, that’s kinda scary…” My poker face evaporated as I turned toward Ebina.

She was wearing a meaningful little smile but then tucked it away to give me a sidelong glance. “I don’t know how we got here, and it’s not something for me to say…but, like, isn’t there an easier way?” she said.

I had to crack a wry smile at that. Someone had been telling me just that. Maybe everyone.

I’m sure if there were one word, that would be enough, and that would be the end of it.

But I couldn’t allow it to be something so easy.

“Simple things are the hardest. It’s just that this was the easiest for me,” I said.

Ebina’s head turned around to stare at me. “Hmm. That’s kinda creepy,” she said ruthlessly, with utter disinterest.

“…Ah, yeah.” My shoulders slumped. I knew she was right, though, so I wouldn’t complain about that.

But the apparent antipathy in Ebina’s words was nowhere to be seen in her faint smile. “Well, it’s not like I don’t get it. I don’t mind—it’s just, like, pessimism?”

I nodded back wordlessly, then looked to the water, where the setting sun glistened.

There was probably something similar in how we thought. I could sympathize with the way she tacked on excuses about herself being rotten or whatever to cover things up. If I were to interpret my own behavior like she did, I would call it something akin to pessimism. I won’t say that was right, but it wasn’t wildly off, either. It’s that slight disparity that makes me feel certain.

Hina Ebina and I are different, after all. Although we sympathize, we don’t come to the same conclusion. In a way, it reminds me of the distance between me and Hayato Hayama.

Even if we’re similar, even if we’re close, even if we appear the same, we are unique. I think I’ve been learning and relearning that, over the course of this past year.

Most likely, it’s been the same with me and someone else, too.

Instead of correcting Ebina, I chose silence. It wasn’t something to bother correcting with words at this point.

The sound of a few gleeful voices joined the roar of the ocean.

“Ebinaaaa! Photooos!”

“Let’s take some together!”

At the water’s edge, Miura and Yuigahama waved their arms wide, calling out for Ebina. White puffs rose from their lips from all that running around, their cheeks red, but they didn’t look cold—in fact, that was the one place that looked warm.

“Comiiing!” Ebina rose to her feet, glancing at me, then at the camera in my hands. Hooking her evenly cut, shoulder-length hair behind her ears, she smiled as if to say, If you would be so kind, and immediately pattered off.

I watched her go, then raised the camera.

The morning after finishing the shoot was sunny, just like the day before.

The sun was high in the sky, the light shining through the gaps between the curtains to slowly heat my eyelids.

On that day, March 3, there were ten more days left until the Saturday of the graduation ceremony.

And that was also the birthday of the greatest little sister in the world, Komachi Hikigaya.

But despite that, my plans were packed full from morning to evening.

Normally, I would have liked to get Komachi a present that was both moderately priced and full of love, then have a big celebration, but with everything involving the dummy prom over the last few days, I’d been putting it all off. Ugh, work… Yuck…, I thought, ready to spill all my bitterness and woe as per usual, but for once, I’d actually signed up for this. So I swallowed that down and scolded myself instead, jumping out of bed. I was doing this of my own accord, so complaining would not be productive. I was my own employer, so all my complaining, whining, and moaning would come back on myself. That’s the tough thing about self-employment.

The exhaustion of going day after day seemed to be catching up with me. I tried to get my brain slowly moving, struggling through a heavy fog as I headed for the washroom. Despite the calendar days moving along, the water I splashed on my face to force my eyes open didn’t seem to be getting any warmer.

Glancing at the clock, I saw it was a bit past nine in the morning. I had to hurry, or I’d be late for our meeting. I ran up the stairs into my room, pulled a uniform off the hanger and shoved my arms through the sleeves, and, with my bag in my arms, pattered down the stairs again.

I wanted to say something to Komachi before I left the house, so I peeked into the living room to see her still in her pajamas, legs in the kotatsu as she zoned out watching TV.

It seemed our parents were still fast asleep, and aside from Komachi, Kamakura was also in the living room in the sunny spot by the window, making snuffling noises.

“Hey, I’m going out…,” I called while putting on my coat.

“Uh-huh. See you later!” Komachi didn’t even look at me, fluttering a hand as Kamakura smacked at the floor with his tail.

It was a scene just like any weekend. Considering it was her birthday, Komachi didn’t seem very moved by any of this. Meanwhile, I was nothing but moved. With this much moving going on, I could generate enough power for a whole city! Though this is moving us away from the point!

But no matter how emotional I was, I just wasn’t prepared to celebrate Komachi’s birthday. These days, even dinner table conversation was being polluted by work, and I hadn’t managed to ask Yuigahama about Komachi’s birthday present like I’d wanted to, either.

Even if I were going to celebrate it after I got home, I didn’t have the time, money, or mental capacity. Maybe Komachi wasn’t bothered about it, but personally, I’d feel uncomfortable if I didn’t say something.

After clearing my throat with a gfum, gfum, I muttered, “Uhhh…happy birthday, Komachi.” I’ll get shy if I say it to her face, so it’s a good thing she’s turned the other way…, I was thinking when she flopped down onto the ground.

Then she rolled over and, on her stomach, leaned her chin in her hands and chuckled. “Meh-heh-heh. Thanks, Bro!” Just a moment ago, she’d been facing away from me, and it had seemed as if she wasn’t listening at all, but when I actually congratulated her, she acted all bashful and happy. It was so cute, I couldn’t help but smile. Then she snorted. “Heh-hmph.”

…Snorted? When I gave her a questioning look, she elaborated. “Acting cool like it’s the same as usual, but then showing you I’m happy when you say it to me…that was worth a lot of Komachi points.”

Indeed, if she hadn’t revealed her secret, it would have scored even higher… However, I know this is Komachi’s first-rate way of hiding her shyness. That made what came next a little hard to say. “So about today…”

“Mm, I know, it’s okay.” Komachi gave a little nod and cracked a smile. “Yui’s waiting, right? Hurry and go.”

“…How do you know about that?” I asked, semi–freaked out. I haven’t told her anything about my plans today, though…

She pulled her phone to her and waved it at me. “She sent me a birthday message at midnight, and then we started chatting.”

“I—I see…”

Komachi had said it like it was nothing, but this was a little terrifying to me. It’s scary to have your behavior communicated to your little sister through an alternate route. Isn’t it? Wait, that Miss Gahama sure tells Komachi at lot, doesn’t she? At some point, though, I’d like to confirm just how far that network goes… But I didn’t want to ask in the wrong way and bring more trouble on myself, either. The heart of a man is so complicated!

As I was groaning, Komachi puffed out her chest, held up a finger, and chuckled smugly at me. “I’m glad to celebrate my birthday and get presents and stuff, but we can do all that later, with everyone together.”

“…Ah, yeah,” I answered as the thought hit me.

Everyone, huh? I basically understood who she was referring to. I just wasn’t at all certain I could make that happen for her.

Komachi must have been suspicious of how my voice wilted, as she gazed up at me, cheeks in her hands. I got the sense she was examining me somehow. Our eyes met, and a pathetic, bitter smile came to my face.

Then, with just a hint of a shrug, Komachi muttered, “…Well, even if it’s not everyone, that’s okay, too. Even if it’s just you, worst case, I’ll still count it. Barely.”

The warmth in her tone eased my tension, so there was a bit of a smile in my voice as I replied, “Worst case… Wait, just barely?”

“I mean that anything’s fine. Anyway, you can’t make Yui wait.” As if to say, Go on, go, go, she shooed me out with little hand motions before flopping herself down again. And then she let out a faint sigh, as if she was trying to smother it.

With her in the corner of my eye, I left the living room.

Since I was late leaving the house, I gave up going by bike and decided to take the train and bus. Paging through the materials on the train, I prepared for the meeting.

Fortunately, Yuigahama’s negotiations had helped get this meeting arranged quickly. I wasn’t thrilled about talking with Tamanawa, but I told myself that this was just work. At the moment, I was flipping through a book on business terminology to help me speak his language a bit better.

Eventually, I arrived at the station closest to my goal and hurried on foot to our meeting location, the community center.

It would have been easier to do it at school, but outsiders generally aren’t allowed on the premises. You could get in if you went through the proper procedures, but not being on the student council, it’d be kind of hard for me to make that happen. On the other hand, meeting at a café would be too casual. Since we were going to upload a photo of the meeting to social media, it would be preferable to have it someplace that felt somewhat official. Every little bit of realism is gonna help…, I thought, walking along, when my phone vibrated.

Looking at it, I saw I’d gotten an e-mail from Yuigahama. The text read only, Are you gonna be a while? I thought this was unusual for her, since she usually sent longer messages, and I replied with I’m almost there.

I was actually coming up to the community center now. I checked around by the entrance, but I couldn’t find Yuigahama. It seemed she’d gone inside ahead of me.

Trotting briskly up the steps, I headed for the small meeting room I’d reserved. I could faintly hear Orimoto’s voice coming from what seemed like the correct room—without even checking the plate, I could tell this was it. I knocked, then opened the door right away.

And then I found Yuigahama already there, with Tamanawa and Orimoto sitting opposite her.

“Ohhh, Hikigaya, it’s been while.” Extremely at ease, Orimoto fluttered a casual wave, while beside her, Tamanawa had his arms folded. He blew his bangs upward and gave me a look.

I gave him a casual bow and a “’Sup” in return, pulling out the chair by Yuigahama. Though she didn’t say anything out loud, she formed a Yahallo with her lips. It must have been too embarrassing to say that in front of other people. However, it’s also embarrassing having other people seeing such a secretive exchange!

To cover that feeling, I whispered in her ear, “Weren’t we supposed to meet up?”

“Hmm… Um, we ran into each other by the entrance, and then she was like, ‘It’s cold, so let’s wait inside…’” Yuigahama combed at her bun awkwardly with a forced smile.

Orimoto had probably approached Yuigahama in her usual casual way, and then swept her inside by force of gradual erosion, leading Yuigahama to spend a slightly awkward time with two people she didn’t know very well until I got here… Aw man! Sorry!

“Oh, okay… Like, sorry,” I said with a bow of my head, and Yuigahama shook her head with a little smile.

It seemed Orimoto was watching this exchange, as she brought her hands together with a particularly loud kasmack. “Ahhh, sorry! Yuigahama was trying to wait for you, but I went and invited her in. It was cold outside, so I thought it’d be okay.”

That straightforward apology was… Well, it was very Orimoto. She’d always been like that—either she didn’t concern herself with maintaining distance, or she knew but still tried to come closer anyway.

“O-oh… No, it’s totally fine,” I said.

Yuigahama nod-nodded, smiling brightly at Orimoto. “Y-yeah! I was cold, too, so it’s totally fine!”

“Oh, all right, then…” With a similar sort of smile to smooth things over, Orimoto combed her hand through her loose, mussy perm.

A-awkward moment… Normally, I get, like, Whoa… just from seeing Orimoto, but being in a room with both her and Yuigahama, it was like, Wo-wo-whoa-wo whoa-wo-wo. I almost expected someone to fire off a shinken in there.

Though Yuigahama and Orimoto both had light smiles on their faces, I couldn’t read into what lay behind them.

The weirdly suffocating silence continued until Orimoto suddenly sighed. “Anyway, why didn’t you call us, Hikigaya? When I got that message from Yuigahama, I totally freaked out.” She glared at me, sounding annoyed but with a joking air.

That softened the atmosphere, allowing me to find my voice. “Ahhh, well, I got a new phone a while back, so, y’know?” I muttered under my breath. Of course I couldn’t say to her face that I’d erased her number.

Orimoto seemed to interpret that in her own way. “Yeah, yeah. Ahhh, I did change my phone e-mail address, after all. How about I give you my LINE ID?”

“I don’t have LINE.”

“That’s hilarious, oh-em-gee. That’s like an excuse a girl would say.”

“Uh, it’s not hilarious. The way girls reject you is pretty crazy…” If she’s bringing that up as an example, does that mean that happens to her sometimes…? Oh, was it the girl who was with her that time with Hayama? Nakamachi! I get that; she had that kind of vibe. Rude as it may be, I was connecting the dots, while on her end, Orimoto was tilting her head.

“Huhhh, so then what do we do?” Staring off in the other direction, she poked herself in the cheek with her phone.

Meanwhile, Tamanawa kept blowing up his bangs, occasionally clearing his throat with a goff, goff. And he was still glaring daggers at me.

Sensing he might have something to say, I cleared my throat back at him to end my exchange with Orimoto. I rummaged around inside my bag. “Well, that can all come later… Today, I came here as an agent—well, maybe representative—of our president.” I pulled out the reason I’d brought them here that day, the proposal documents for the dummy prom. The file had already been sent to Tamanawa and Orimoto, but when you have a meeting, you make printouts, too. This is the iron law of the corporate slave! What was up with that push for going paperless…?

“We’re planning a prom right now, but we’re also thinking to scale it up down the line. Not right away, but when it comes to next year and moving forward…,” I said, and beside me, Yuigahama blinked with surprise. I nodded back at her.

On our end, we were planning the dummy prom for this year’s graduation, but that was just for Soubu High School. In fact, there was no clear time frame, like this year or next year, indicated on the website we were setting up. It was only ever labeled as the “new prom.”

They would never expect we’d attempt to go through with such a preposterous plan this year. If we had some more time for it, that would make it easier to get them to agree to it. There was no need to bother telling them everything.

However, those certain carping parents from Soubu High School had nothing beyond this year’s prom in their heads. So if a new prom plan came up, of course they’d assume it was this year when they considered it. Take a prom they already didn’t like and make it even bigger, and they’d be desperate to crush it.

And neither Orimoto nor Tamanawa seemed particularly concerned about the time of year when I mentioned it; they’d assumed all along that I meant the following year.

Orimoto picked up the proposal papers and made a lazy uh-huhhh. “Mm, this thing, huh?”

The cover of the proposal documents Orimoto was flipping through was emblazoned with rows of the aforementioned incomprehensible terminology, printed in an extra-cool font. Still, I was thinking, But Tamanawa, though! Tamanawa will get it! as I reached for my one ray of hope, glancing over at him.

Tamanawa thoroughly examined each individual sheet of the proposal, occasionally stopping and frowning when he came upon a line that took his interest. And then he let out a heavy sigh.

Eventually, he finished perusing it, carefully closed the documents, and set his gaze on me. “…I read your proposal,” he said, tap-tapping the table with his fingers at a slow tempo. He blew up his bangs again. “Making allowances for diversity is a good thing. But I think everything else might be too abstract. There’s too much fluff, and the plan in general is off focus.”

I was so shocked, my mouth dropped open, aghast. “What…did you say…?”

Tamanawa…isn’t using…pretentious business English…?

While I was still reeling, Tamanawa kept on talking. “I think you should take more care in communicating your ideas. I suppose you call it the visualization of a proposal. Of course I can understanding setting your eye on the future prospects for this kind of experience-oriented event, but your reasoning up to that point doesn’t stand.” Tamanawa chided me over every detail, moving his hands in wide, gentle motions like tai chi, finishing with a sweep of his bangs. “That’s why your proposal is no good.” I could read the silent, pitying message in Tamanawa’s eyes: You’re still at that stage, huh?

I can’t believe it… I made eye contact with Yuigahama to ask, Was he always like this…?

She replied with a little shake of her head that said, Dunno. I’ve never cared enough to notice.

At a loss, I finally shot Orimoto a reserved sort of look to see her scratching her cheek with a wry smile. What I inferred from her expression was that this, apparently, was Tamanawa these days.

Well, these pretentious types have been societally ridiculed for various things for a long time now. Maybe even Tamanawa had picked up on that trend and was trying to turn over a new leaf. You could say he’d grown, in a sense. Well, they do say a boy will grow so much in three days, you won’t even recognize him the next time you see him… That really is true with this guy… But if I let Tamanawa continue to control this conversation, I’ll drop dead screaming.

But this isn’t the time to be impressed. If Tamanawa won’t get in on this, then my plans will fall apart.

In my panic, I was also unconsciously bouncing my leg. Tamanawa slowly, slowly tap-tapped on the table, as if waiting for my reply. Yuigahama glanced between me and Tamanawa anxiously, letting out little sighs each time, and Orimoto smothered her snickers.

All these sounds came together to force a sort of dissonant track. Its rhythm and beat pushed my anxiety even harder, and I opened my mouth with no idea what was going to come out. I just had to say something.

I was rattling off absolutely everything I could think of practically like freestyling. There’s an abnormal affinity between pretentious-type vocabulary and Japanese rap. “Is your problem with our plan just no budget? Our team takes pride in doing more with less. What we gotta use is a cool gadget—scalability is our best bet.” With no care to the meter or the flow, I tossed out a random verse, as Tamanawa listened, nodding rhythmically.

And then, spinning his hands around, he shot back at me without missing a beat, “The title of your plan is absolutely frivolous—the content inside’s superficial and ridiculous. If we’re going to start it out, you and me and all of us, we need specificity, or it’ll be disastrous. Without directionality, it’s awfully egregious! Without some answers here for me, this whole proposal’s gone to dust, and that’s something we all need to discuss.” Tamanawa orated coolly and eloquently.

Though I could hardly think of what to say, I shot back, “We made that draft with great consideration—we just need hands and then your reputation. I’ll admit the direction’s still vague, but at the end of the day, your key takeaway is this idea’s Lincoln’s play. We’re birds leaving the nest, putting ourselves to the test. But we need leaders—the very best—to come up with the next step. For the budget, we leverage crowdfunding. It’ll be easy with that innovation.”

As I was wiping the sweat off my forehead, Tamanawa’s eyebrows jumped up, but he was coolly listening. He paused a beat to check that I was done talking, flipped through the proposal papers, then smack-smacked over the parts that had the pretentious business lingo I’d poured into it to use on him.

“It’s true, I’m interested in what you’ve got. But look, your language leaves me distraught. The only part of your plan that matters is this page here, in this one spot. Everything else you’ve written down reads like a satirical potshot. If we’re going to do this together, then we’re all in the same pot. But right now, we’re oil and water, are we not?” Now even faster than before, he spun his hands around, then suddenly jabbed a finger gun at me.

His gaze was piercing for such a joking gesture, and it made my words catch in my throat. It was true, as Tamanawa said, that this proposal had underestimated him. I hadn’t been thinking deeply when I’d written it. I’d assumed that if I just flung out something with popular business terminology, he’d jump right on it.

But people do change. This was Tamanawa, the guy who’d gotten criticized point-blank by Yukinoshita during the Christmas event—he would have room for change.

“Uh, well, um…,” I started to say, then gave up.

I’ve had enough. I’ve got nothing more to say. He’s really good at this. I can’t. He’s too powerful…

When I let out a deep sigh in acknowledgment of my defeat, Tamanawa smiled victoriously. “And that’s why your proposal is unacceptable.”

“Ngh.” He was being so blunt again that I was choking up. Under the eight-bar two-turn rule, the critical hit knocked me out before I even got to round three.

As I hung my head, it seemed Yuigahama, who’d been watching this whole mess, could no longer stand by and do nothing; she hesitantly opened her mouth with a combination of awkwardness and exasperation. “Ummm… What should we do…?”

Then Orimoto, who’d been trying so hard not to snicker, wiped the tears that had beaded in the corners of her eyes and sighed deeply. Then she picked up the proposal. “Still, this looks pretty fun, doesn’t it?” she said to Yuigahama.

Yuigahama’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! Right, right?”

Orimoto didn’t seem to mean anything by that remark, just amusing herself—but the moment Tamanawa heard it, he immediately smiled his most dashing smile, snapped his fingers, and winked while he was at it. “Indeed! That’s also a good point.”

“Uhhh…?” Tamanawa had been rejecting us out of hand until just a second ago; the flip-flopping was intense. I made a mostly voiceless sound and stared at him.

Unsurprisingly, this seemed to make him uncomfortable, and he cleared his throat with a quiet hem, dropping his gaze to the proposal papers once more. “Of course, it’s not as if we’re against this proposal. It’s just that misunderstandings will always crop up when the initial consensus building doesn’t go well. I think we should ensure we have a solid foundation first,” Tamanawa said with a glance toward me.

I nodded back at him. “Think of this plan as a jumping-off point. I just wanted to fancy it up a little. I’m sorry if that made it hard to understand. So then couldn’t we leave aside feasibility to talk it over again, from square one?” Placing my hands on my lap, I lowered my head at him just the slightest bit.

Yuigahama followed my lead. “W-we’re counting on you…”

With a hmm, Tamanawa regarded us with deep interest, and Orimoto blinked her wide eyes. There was a dubious silence, and I squirmed.

But then Orimoto breathed out a quiet huhhh, almost a chuckle. “…Why not? Let’s give it a shot, President.” Then she jabbed at Tamanawa’s arm with her elbow. With each jab, Tamanawa made weird sounds like ngh and hnn.

Hmm, I get that feeling. Back in middle school, that kind of physical contact made me feel like I was gonna die…

Tamanawa writhed tortuously for a while, but he eventually collected himself, rubbing at the places Orimoto had prodded him. “…All right. Fortunately, we have lots of time, so there’s plenty of room to look into it. In the meantime, we have to make sure to arrange a common awareness of our goal, in aim toward actualization.”

“That’s it!” Orimoto fired a thumbs-up.

That must have put Tamanawa in a good mood, as he suddenly broke into a smile, stroked his chin, and folded his fingers to lean forward. “And speaking of goals, let me tell you a story. A long time ago, there was a town with three bricklayers… When someone asked them what they were doing, what do you think they answered?” Tamanawa snapped his fingers and pointed at me. He was getting into his groove—he’d brought up a business exemplum he’d heard somewhere and was now trying to get me to answer it.

However, sadly, when I’d been writing the proposal, I’d gone over a bunch of these stories. “I’m making a great cathedral that will last for generations,” I smoothly replied. Sorry, dude, but I had to say the right answer.

Tamanawa responded with an easygoing nod. “That’s right. He answered, ‘I’m laying bricks.’ And then if you asked the next one, what do you think he answered?” This time he snapped the fingers of both hands and pointed at me.

Yuigahama was staring dubiously back at Tamanawa. But I shook my head to tell her not to worry about it. If you let him get to you, you’ve lost the game.

While knowing Tamanawa wouldn’t hear me, I repeated the same answer again. “…I’m making a great cathedral that will last for generations.”

“That’s right. He answered, ‘I’m working.’ …And then the third one…” Tamanawa’s gaze swept over all three of us, and then after a pregnant pause, he opened his mouth to say majestically, “…answered, ‘We’re making a great cathedral that will last for generations.’”

“Uh…uh-huh…” Seeing Tamanawa and his sparkling eyes, I had no more words. All I could do was be surprised.

However he took my reaction, he breathed a sigh of extreme satisfaction. “We should carefully consider what our goal is.” His chair scraped as he stood up, and he turned halfway back to us. “Do you know how to beat Destiny Land?” Without waiting for a reply, Tamanawa started pacing around the room, shoes tapping loudly. “Normally, it can’t be done, because Destiny Land has attained an incredibly high level of perfection. So we turn that idea on its head. We make something imperfect—there’s entertainment value to be had there.”

Eventually, after about a total of two circles of the meeting room, Tamanawa came up in front of the whiteboard. And then he started to draw a mystery graph on the board. “You should consider which of two tests would make you happier—the one where you can always get ninety percent, or the test where you got zero before, but this time, you were able to get fifty. What you must ask is not how we can invite ten thousand people, but what we can do to make it with ten thousand people.” Tamanawa smacked the whiteboard.

Yuigahama was getting swept up in his energy, as she applauded and made impressed sounds. “Ohhh, I kinda get it, I think…s-sort of…,” she added in a mutter, sneaking her gaze away from my suspicious glare.

Meanwhile, Orimoto nodded, hands both moving on her phone. “I get that! That’s it!”

Yeah, she’s not listening…, I thought, but it was true that Tamanawa wasn’t wildly wrong. There was some logic in what he was saying, and yeah, that is a thing that happens, but…but still, the “I don’t want to hear it from you” feeling is so powerful… When a pretentious type experiences growth, maybe the place they ultimately arrive at is IT type. It kinda feels like when you roll for the IT CEO gacha and you wind up with a 1-star.

The leopard may have stopped using overwrought English terms, but he hasn’t changed his spots, huh…?

This sort of thing is typical on the Inage coast. It lacked novelty to me, but I think it was proof of his growth.

As I was pondering this, Tamanawa’s dramatic speechifying had ended, and now he was studying the whiteboard. “…Let’s start preparing seriously for it now, setting our sights on next year and after. We have to accumulate results one by one.” And then when he turned back to us, there was a slightly aged, harsh smile on his face.

Tamanawa must have realized the emptiness of his own words. That was why, though he still continued to borrow the words of someone else, he nevertheless continued to hope. When actions and results came along with it, the things he said would surely become Tamanawa’s words for real. There is hope for his future!

Though last time had been a disaster, this time, I was glad we could team up with Tamanawa. Not just as an important factor in the dummy prom—he would also be a strong ally in the proms Isshiki would actually be holding the following year and onward. Kaihin represent! My man! My bro! Pics with the homies!

“…Mind if I take a photo of the meeting?” I said. “Also, I’d like to put it on the website, if I could.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. Ohhh, then maybe it would be best to write this up so it’s a bit easier to understand.” Tamanawa agreed readily with a sunny expression.

Then he made some additions to the whiteboard, talking about this and that while kneading the air with his hands. He made me think of spinning a pottery wheel. I snapped some photos of him like that.

And then, once we’d gone a little over the time allotted for the meeting room, Tamanawa’s lecture finally ended. By the time we left the community center, the sun was already high in the sky, with the afternoon bustle filling the city.

Stepping out into the throng in front of the station, Orimoto spun back to us. “What are you doing after this? Going back? Going out for food or something?”

“Ah, we’ve got some things to do at school…,” Yuigahama said in an apologetic tone.

Orimoto’s eyebrows went into an upside-down V. “Oh…then we’ll go to eat another time.”

Yuigahama put her hands together and bowed, and I bobbed my head along with her.

Then Tamanawa cleared his throat experimentally before taking a step up beside Orimoto. “Well, that’s it for today. So then, since you and I have a little extra time right now, Orimoto, if you’d like…,” he muttered, cheeks pinkening as he gave Orimoto a sidelong probing glance. Though he started off strong, his voice petered out over time.

Whether Orimoto was listening or not, she nodded back with a nonchalant expression. “Uh-huh, let’s go home.”

“O-okay…,” Tamanawa managed to reply, lips spasming. He immediately collected himself and strode up to me, blowing his bangs off his forehead. “…Once you’ve decided on your plans for next time, circle back to touch base with me.”

I frankly had no such plans, but he was so intense that all I could do was nod.

I dunno, but…do your best, Tamanawa!

The school building on the weekend was deserted, and it was as if all the sounds were echoing through the void.

Many sounds filled the outside area, sports field included, and as we stepped into the school building, it had a cold, rejecting feeling.

Meanwhile, the UG Club room was as tense as a gambling den.

“…All riiight, we’re done!” Hatano pressed the Enter key with a final taaan, then immediately flopped facedown on the desk, while Sagami’s exhausted little brother pushed the laptop toward me.

“This is the test app, basically…”

Peering at the computer, I saw the website was complete, just about entirely as per specifications. It had a stylish-looking photo bam in the middle as the main visual, with the text information written small, and then embedded social media accounts. It was little more than a teaser site, but it was impressive they’d finished all this over just these past few days.

“Try posting something, Zaimokuza,” I said.

“Mm-hmm… Aaand click!” With that cry, Zaimokuza made a very cheery post dripping with hashtags. Upon refreshing the page, a message displayed in the embedded social media part that read, We discussed the prom with Kaihin! And we’ll be working with nearby schools in the future as well! along with the freshly taken photo of Tamanawa spinning a steaming-hot pottery wheel.

“Wow, that’s kinda cool. I like it!” Yuigahama, who’d been peeking in from behind me, smacked at my shoulder excitedly.

Feeling embarrassed by her proximity, I gently escaped from her hands as I returned the computer to Sagami. “Okay, then take it online. Zaimokuza, you handle social media updates for the time being.”

“Roger.”

“It’s safe with me.”

As Sagami and Zaimokuza were nodding back, one person—Hatano—was examining the screen with a complicated expression. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, there’s enough content,” I told him.

Bringing up the exchange with Tamanawa as our track record while also implying we were going to other schools would make this difficult to ignore. And since the meeting with Kaihin was only described as an “discussion,” once the dummy prom fizzled out, that should be enough to make excuses for it. This way, only the people who’d complained about the prom before would be overreacting to it.

Right as I was considering talking about this, Hatano tilted his head and squinted at me. “…No, I mean…isn’t this a bit weak? There’s not much to it.”

“Well, yeah, but…it only needs to get found by certain parents. In fact, letting it get too well-known will make cleanup afterward a hassle. I think this is about perfect. Besides, I’ll lay some insurance just in case to leak it to the parents, so we should get a reaction right away.”

Although the trouble was with the one who’d be doing the leak… Thinking about the next job I had to do, a bitter sigh slipped out of me. Yuigahama examined me curiously.

To keep her from noticing too much, I followed up with “Sorry, but keep an eye on it just for today and tomorrow, to make sure there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Hatano nodded before turning back to the computer again to begin discussing what came next with Sagami.

Surveying everyone to see how they were all doing, I blew out a little breath.

Now most of the hard parts were done. This had been an express job, thrown together to meet an emergency, so the seams and rough spots would stand out, but we’d done our best. Well, I’d made them do their best. If we could just get through this weekend, then the rest would work out somehow. I had nothing but thanks for Zaimokuza and the UG Club.

“If all goes well, the results will be out by the end of the weekend… So thanks. You’ve been a big help.” I could only say it quietly, which was pretty pathetic if I do say so myself, but still, I laid my hands on my knees and slowly bowed my head.

When I did that, Zaimokuza and the UG Club stared at me like I was an alien. But Yuigahama was smiling with satisfaction.

Their reactions were getting uncomfortable, so I cleared my throat. “Well, the thank-you will be down the road. Sorry for making you come on a weekend. You’re free to finish up whenever’s good for you… That’s it for the day.”

Immediately after I said that, I picked up my things and stood from my seat. The boss has to go home, or it’s hard for everyone to leave, after all! What chic, gallant consideration. I’d like the bosses of the world to learn from my example.

“Ah, hey, wait… Th-thanks, guys! Let’s have an after-party later!” Following my lead, Yuigahama also got up with a scrape of her chair. Then she pumped an arm energetically high.

Hatano and Sagami responded to that with vague smiles.

“Uh, well…”

“Ehhh, I’ll think about it…”

“Aye. I’ll just say I’ll go if I can.” Zaimokuza was the one person answering with energy. I feel like normally that’s what you say when you don’t go, but Zaimokuza seems like the only person who would, mysteriously enough…

With the sense of release and fulfillment of a job complete, the three guys started chatting lazily among themselves. Watching them out of the corner of my eye, Yuigahama and I left the UG Club room.

Unfortunately, my work was not yet done. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, tapping it as I walked. Beside me, Yuigahama was also on her phone, until she glanced over at me. “What are you doing after this, Hikki?” she asked. “Going home?”

“No…I’m making a call. Depends on that,” I said. The phone was still in my hand, and I had yet to hit the button. Seeing the address book displayed on the screen, I let out another long sigh.

I really should have called her earlier.

But the more you don’t want to call or e-mail, the more you put it off. That’s just how the world works. The psychology of a useless person dictates that you put off communications you feel discomfort or guilt over, such as progress reports or notifications you’ll be late, for example. And then as a result, you wind up right down to the wire, procrastinating and procrastinating, causing massive damage in the process. And yet I can’t seem to stop…

Only this time, there were no other options, so no matter how much I didn’t like it, I had no choice.

Yuigahama’s gaze alternated between me and my phone, as if she was suspicious of how I was scowling at it. “Call…who?”

“…Well, my connection who’s going to be our leak.” Coming from the special-use building to the aerial walkway that connected to the main school building, I finally found the resolve. Yuigahama’s obvious concern was gonna shore up my resolve.

With a long sigh, I glanced over at her. “…Sorry, I’ve got to make this call.”

“Uh-huh.”

Though my intention had been to suggest she go on without me, Yuigahama stopped right there like she was going to wait for me. If she’s gonna do that, it makes it really hard to tell her to please leave…

I was running out of options. I pointed to the bench in the aerial walkway, prompting her to sit down and wait, and pressed the Call button with my phone thumb.

The call sound rang two, three times, and the person on the other end quickly picked up. “Hya-hallooo. How are you?” The one I was speaking with, Haruno Yukinoshita, was as easygoing as if the conversation the other day had never happened.

Hearing her voice, I could feel my face stiffening in real time. “…I’m good, thank you.” The tension must have affected the pitch of my voice, as I heard an amused laugh from the other end. I hated it when she saw through me, and I continued rapidly in the hopes of dispelling the discomfort. “There’s something I need to talk to you about—do you mind?”

“Of course it’s okay. Lay it on me.”

“I know this is sudden, but if you could do tonight…,” I said, and I heard a thoughtful breath on the other end.

“Hmm…that really is sudden. It’s fine, though. Can you come over to me? There’s a café right here, by the entrance of the outlet mall,” she replied immediately. I’d only managed to catch her off balance for the briefest moment, and I was a bit disgruntled about that.

“…Uh-huh, around that area?” I answered lazily as I vaguely thought about the place she’d indicated.

And then Yuigahama got up to come sneak her ear close to the phone, almost leaning on me. Her sudden approach startled me, and my heart jumped. I couldn’t shake her off and immediately staggered away from her, but she made a huffy face and stepped right back up to me.

Suspicious about this silent conflict, Haruno called out to me through the phone, “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” I answered rapidly, covering the mouthpiece with my hand as I quietly told Yuigahama off. “…What? I’m on the phone right now, and—”

“Are you gonna meet with Haruno?” Yuigahama interrupted. Her tone was a bit sharper than usual, and darker.

I couldn’t tease her or make a comeback, and all I could do was reply, briefly, “…Yeah. I was thinking I’d have her be the one to leak the website.”

“Can’t I come with you?” she said.

“Why…?” I asked, but Yuigahama pressed her lips together and gave me no answer. Her determined gaze told me that she was going, even if I said no.

Frankly speaking, I didn’t really want her there. Whenever I met with Haruno Yukinoshita, it was always bad. I didn’t want to drag Yuigahama into that.

But even as I was hesitating, I heard an irritated voice coming from the phone: “Hellooo.” I hastily brought it to my ear.

“Ahhh, pardon… So Yuigahama and I will be coming.”

“Gahama-chan? Mm, okay,” Haruno answered casually, without any pause like she was considering. After that, we decided on a time and such, and then she hung up on me.

I let my arm holding the phone hang weakly as I looked at Yuigahama. She was squeezing the strap of her backpack, biting her lip.

“Let’s go…,” I said. A smile came to her face, and she nodded. But the footsteps that followed were much quieter and less cheery than usual.

So slow and quiet that you wouldn’t notice.

It was probably something like the sound of the end approaching.

The sun sank into the distant sea, only its lingering glow spreading over the western sky. The streetlamps and lights from buildings were all we had to see by as it gradually grew dark, throwing the shadows of the people on the streets in every direction.

The café Haruno had indicated was reasonably crowded, but the European-style chic of the interior and the quiet background music gave it a calm atmosphere.

When we let the staff know someone was waiting for us, we were shown to an open terrace. There were still cold winds this early in spring, so it had cooled down quite a bit, but you could see a smattering of customers.

Haruno Yukinoshita was sitting in a corner in the back, but there was no one else around her. It was like a void.

Haruno had a deep-red coat slung over her shoulders, a long skirt, and short boots on her feet. A blanket was thrown over her lap—it had to be the café’s—and she was quietly reading a book under a parasol heater. She would occasionally wrap her hands around her hot drink to warm them and take a sip.

At the sight of her, I paused a moment, narrowing my eyes. Something about that picture reminded me of a sight I hadn’t seen for quite some time now.

But I was only entranced for the briefest moment, as then Haruno noticed us, smiled, and waved. I gave her a little bob of my head, and she beckoned us to sit down opposite her.

“Want a drink?” she asked. “The bread here’s great, too.”

I wanted to get this over quickly, so I started to say I’ll have what you’re having…and stopped. The glass in Haruno’s hand seemed to be filled with mulled wine, and each slosh of the purplish-red liquid wafted with the strong scent of cinnamon.

“Coffee,” I said.

“Ah…I’ll have a black tea,” Yuigahama added.

We quickly finished ordering and waited for our drinks to come. Meanwhile, Haruno stuck a bookmark into the book she’d been reading and tucked it into her bag.

“So? What did you want to talk about?” Haruno leaned forward slightly, dropping her chin onto her hand to examine my face. Her eyes forced me to remember what had happened the other day, whether I wanted to or not. A full smile lay on her glossy lips, and her big eyes were watching me through her smile. Her long legs were folded under the table, and her toe daintily touched my knee.

I tried to get the words out, but they caught in my weirdly dry throat and turned into a sigh.

Frankly, I didn’t want to talk with this woman. It wasn’t as if I really hated her as an individual, and if I said I just couldn’t handle her, then, well, that’s how I am with most women. There was no one element I really couldn’t stand. Whether it be her appearance or what was on the inside, there were plenty of positives about her.

I was just scared. It was a fear like with the mirror you see in the middle of the night, the slightly cracked-open door you find in a dark room, the sense that something is behind you when you’re showering—the kind where you don’t even want to make sure what it really is.

My anxiety was telling me that if I said something, absolutely all of it would be caught and trapped, and that I’d have something I didn’t want to know shoved in my face again.

But Yuigahama couldn’t sit there and watch me floundering. “Um, it’s about…the prom.”

“Oh, that.” The glee on Haruno’s face ebbed away like it had never been. She had obviously lost interest, leaning into the backrest. “If you say you want to talk to a pretty older lady, then it’s going to be about love, normally,” she said jokingly with a dramatic shrug of her shoulders.

I let out a quiet sigh. My coffee had just arrived, and it moistened my throat enough to get out a flippant reply. “You’d normally assume it’s to ask advice…”

Haruno smiled back at that. “How very businesslike.”

“I hate work, though,” I muttered with some irony and a half smile, sensing the tension bleeding away. Yuigahama, sitting beside me, also sounded relieved. It was pathetic, if I do say so myself, but I was frankly glad she’d come with me. If I had been alone, Haruno would have just had me at her whims the whole time. Even if I superficially managed to dodge her moves, in the depths of my heart, I’d be trapped.

I gave Yuigahama a subtle nod to say, It’s okay now. Of course I didn’t suddenly believe I could handle Haruno, but still, I didn’t want to appear too lame in front of her.

I brought the coffee to my lips once more and pulled out my phone. “I want you to leak this.” I showed her the website for the dummy prom that had been finished just a while ago.

Haruno studied the screen for a minute but soon let out a little sigh. “Hmm…I don’t get it…”

“Um…they’re against the prom, so if we come up with a new, different one—,” Yuigahama tried to explain, but Haruno smiled kindly at her and cut her off.

“No, I get that.” It seemed that after one look at the website text, Haruno had gotten the gist. It was helpful she was quick on the uptake.

I was relieved about not having to explain the details, but my sigh caught in my throat. Haruno Yukinoshita’s calm, chilly gaze was trained on me.

“What I don’t get is why you’re doing this… Didn’t I tell you about the relationship between you three?” Her tone contained a smile and a teasing ring, but also a deep sadness. As if tormenting me for my mistakes, as if lamenting my errors—every single word she laid out seemed to pour ice water on my nerves, gently freezing me. “Do you honestly think this is what’s best for her?”

“…It’s not really got much to do with Yukinoshita. It’s not like she asked me to do it. I’m just doing it on my own. This is for me more than anyone,” I said, the words I’d planned to say.

I’d known if I brought the matter of the leak to Haruno Yukinoshita, I’d be unable to avoid this question. So I said it in the way that was shortest, with the fewest fallacies. It wasn’t an absolutely correct answer, but it couldn’t be a mistake. At the very least, in my mind, it held a kernel of the truth.

Problem was, it really didn’t seem like it would work on Haruno Yukinoshita. That was exactly why I’d been avoiding this meeting with her until the last possible moment.

A smile crossed her face, and she tossed back the hot wine. Stroking the rim of her glass, as if correcting the rights and wrongs of the matter, she said, “Yukino-chan doesn’t want help. You’re doing it without her permission, so it’s not codependency… That’s all just superficial talk, isn’t it? It ultimately doesn’t change anything.”

I couldn’t immediately deny what she’d pointed out, and I didn’t know what to say. Yuigahama glanced anxiously at me, then at Haruno.

Though neither Isshiki nor Hayama—and probably Yuigahama, too—had said it out loud, they all had to be thinking it. I was aware myself that this was nothing more than wordplay.

“Yukino-chan has chosen independence, and she wants to end that relationship. I think what you can do is stand back and watch, Hikigaya,” Haruno said with the kindness of an adult chiding a small child.

I couldn’t maintain eye contact with her. She had to be right. Before I knew it, I was clenching the hem of my coat.

“…I don’t think that’s true,” Yuigahama whispered. She was so quiet, her voice was just about drowned out in the wind, but I heard it clearly. I couldn’t know her expression from the suppressed emotion in her voice, so I looked at her face.

Her eyes weren’t on me or Haruno. She was sitting straight, staring at a point on the table.

Haruno’s gaze, which had been focused on me, slid over toward Yuigahama. Then with a minute tilt of her head, she prompted her to continue.

Now the center of attention, Yuigahama continued haltingly. “Maybe it sounds nice to say you’ll stand back and watch, but really you’re just cutting yourself off. If we avoid it and never do anything, then nothing’ll change. All of it will fall apart, and then it’ll be over. Us, and the prom…”

The retro lighting of the café cast an ephemeral shadow over her unusually mature expression. That beautiful bearing, and that sorrow on her face, sent pain running through my chest. Or maybe that was because I’d so easily been able to envision the ending she spoke of.

“So we have to be a little closer. We need to be involved. That’s the only way we can end this properly. So…” The rambling fragments eventually died out; I don’t know what she meant to say after that. With her chin sinking downward, I couldn’t read it from her face.

But even so, I understood something now. Really, I’d understood it for a long time. “Yeah… We have to end it properly…,” I muttered at no one in particular, maybe just to myself, and Yuigahama quietly nodded at me.

We probably all still shared that same wish. Now that I was sure of it, I was finally able to lift my head.

When our gazes clashed, Haruno smiled kindly, tilting her head subtly as she narrowed her eyes. “You don’t care what kind of ending it is? Even if it’s one that Yukino-chan doesn’t want? That nobody wants?”

“I’m fine with that.” The words flowed out without hesitation.

Haruno’s breath caught quietly, as if she was taken by surprise. And then she erased her smile, asking a bit more coolly than before, “…Hey, why go that far, Hikigaya?”

I couldn’t answer her question instantly this time. Not because I was uncertain about it; I already had my answer. It was just after being asked similar questions so many times, I was a bit unsure of my choice of words. Beside me, Yuigahama was frozen, patiently listening.

So I decided to reply with my own sort of consistency—avoiding lies as much as possible, but also without contradicting the things I’d said before. “I’m service-minded…I suppose. I want to help. Do you need a reason to help another person?” I shamelessly declared, and the chair beside me rocked, telling me that Yuigahama’s shoulders had gone slack.

Haruno breathed a sharp aha, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re so funny.”

“If you’re gonna say so, then I wish you’d at least smile.”

Whether Haruno realized it herself or not, there was no warmth anywhere on her face. The levity in her voice was false.

When I pointed that out, Haruno grinned as if she’d just remembered to. “You say nothing but lies…and never the truth.”

“I mean, I don’t really have anything to say, never mind whether it’s the truth. And even if I did…” I swallowed the words that just about came out and said something else. “You aren’t the one I’d say it to.”

“…” For just the slightest instant, Haruno narrowed her eyes as if staring into the sun. But her smile never dropped, and she replied in a joking manner. “…Well, of course.” There was a chill to her voice, and the quiet sigh that followed it sounded dry, too. She must have been able to recognize that herself, as she reached for her hot glass and drank down its contents, now long cold. Wiping her lips with her finger, she collected herself. When her face came up again, she was fully smiling. “So that leak—I’ll handle it for you.”

“Thank you.”

Yuigahama and I offered little bows, and Haruno leaned her chin on her hand and started doing something on her phone. “But won’t it be difficult, if this is all you have?”

I wasn’t expecting her to say that; when she saw my confusion, Haruno broke into an unpleasant smirk. “All the elements are lined up, but normal reasoning won’t work on these people. Besides, the one you’re dealing with is our mom.”

“Ahhh…true…” Imagining the Yukinoshita sisters’ mother, Yuigahama and I shared a wry smile.

If those certain parents were to complain about the dummy prom, as planned, then we would be going through their mother again. As the one responsible for this among the students, I would be facing her. Remembering our exchange the other day, I honestly didn’t feel like I could win logically, or lyrically.

As I was groaning, wrinkles coming together between my eyes, Haruno yawned with disinterest and added, “But that part would work out depending on how you bring it up, I figure.” And then she muttered quietly, “…Since she wouldn’t really care about the prom itself.”

I didn’t really get what she meant by that, and I tilted my head at her, but it seemed Haruno wasn’t interested in elaborating, humming as she began scanning the drink menu.

“…Well, I’ll just do what I can,” I said.

“Mm, do your best.” She offered that halfhearted encouragement without even looking at me, and then we were out of things to say.

Considering the hour, it was the perfect moment to leave. When I asked Yuigahama silently, Should we get going? she nodded back at me.

“…Then we’re gonna head out,” I said. “Sorry for taking up your time.”

“Ah, thank you very much!” Yuigahama added.

“Uh-huh. See you.”

When we stood from our seats, Haruno gave us a little wave. From the way she was drawing the drink menu closer, it seemed she meant to hang around longer.

With one last bow, we left the café.

It wasn’t far to the station. On a weekday, it would have been close to the evening rush, but being a Saturday with no special events, there wasn’t much traffic or crowds.

When we reached the square in front of the station that also operated as a bus depot, I looked over at Yuigahama, wondering what we’d do next. She’d remained entirely silent since leaving the café, as if she’d had something on her mind the whole time. She noticed my worry and smiled weakly back at me.

Then her feet suddenly stopped, and she opened her mouth slowly. “…When Haruno said codependency earlier…what did she mean?” She was smiling like she was at a loss, but her tone was terribly serious.

I couldn’t even tease her, so instead I went to sit down on a nearby bench and search for the words. Holding her backpack in front of her chest, Yuigahama came to sit down next to me.

“It’s hard to explain… You basically get dependence, right?” I asked.

Yuigahama buried her face in the backpack in her lap, nodding. Smiling a little back at her, I continued—explaining things as simply as possible, omitting anything specialized and unimportant details.

“Basically, codependency is when the one who’s being depended on thinks of it as a good thing, I guess. They find their self-worth in being needed. It gives them a sense of satisfaction and peace of mind…and both of them become unable to escape from that.” As I was saying that, I realized my tone of voice was gradually getting lower. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed to fit, and the inside of my mouth tasted bitter.

That must have rung a bell with Yuigahama, too, as she bit the edge of her lip. “That’s…not a good thing, is it…?”

“Well, I suppose it’s not healthy,” I muttered.

—So it is a mistake after all.

Yuigahama’s expression turned somber, which made me feel bad. I bounded off the bench to shake it off. “…It’s not like everything she says is right. I mean you could see it that way.” So you don’t have to worry about it, I tried to tell her with a smile, albeit a rather lousy one.

At that, Yuigahama nodded with a slightly sad smile, standing up.

With neither of us particularly taking the lead, we started walking. When we came up to the ticket gates, Yuigahama daintily raised a hand. “Well, then I’m taking the train.”

“Yeah. Take care.”

“Uh-huh, see you at school… Night, Hikki.”

As Yuigahama watched me go with a small wave in front of her chest, I walked off.

After going a ways, I turned back to see she was still in front of the ticket gates, and when our eyes met, she gave me an extra-big wave. I raised my hand lightly in response, but it was so embarrassing that I rushed away from the station.

Now, with the night wind blowing, I hurried down the way home alone.

Now, everything I’d had planned for the day was done. I’d prepared as much as I could.

Now, I just had to bring it to an end.