Epilogue: After Happily Ever After

Epilogue: After Happily Ever After

Epilogue:

After Happily Ever After

T WO UNEVENTFUL DAYS LATER, AND THE NEW semester was upon us.

“It’s over…” I sighed as I headed for the front door.

Summer vacation was finally over. As was waking up without an alarm, cycling through video games and manga in the morning, spending the afternoon reading light novels or watching airing anime, doing the obligatory bare minimum of homework right before bed, and otherwise idling the days away in blessed air conditioning.

I had to do a triple take at the date on my phone this morning before I believed it.

“It is what it is,” I told myself.

I checked myself in the mirror in our front hallway. Same old uniform. Same old haircut. The bedhead could have used a little work.

“Leaving already, Oniisama?” Kaju pitter-pattered over.

“New semester. Don’t wanna be late and paint a target on myself day one.” Not even I was sold by my own excuse. I patted Kaju on the head. “You too, yeah? Watch for cars.”

“You too, Oniisama.” She beamed for a split second, then frowned. “Your tie is crooked.” She righted the sin at once. Kaju and appearances. She peered up at me, tie still in her grip.

“What?”

“Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I could have sworn I saw you grinning.”

Grinning? About going to school? “I’m just so happy to see my little sister on this fine morning.”

Kaju totally bought it and giggled. “We could always elope.”

“I’m good. Got school.” I opened the door and started on my way out. Kaju threw on a pair of sandals and gave chase. “What?”

“Stay right there. Don’t turn around, please.” I heard two hard clicks behind my shoulder. When I finally did turn around, Kaju was beaming again, a hunk of flint in one hand and a striker in the other. “For good luck. Have a good day, Oniisama.”

***

I exited Aidai-Mae Station and joined the uniformed mob of fellow students. Conversations maintained a low drone over the crowd, though I wasn’t the only one keeping to myself. So many different people. So many different faces. How many of them were genuine, I wondered.

Cutting the melodrama short, I slowed to part from the crowd and loosened the tie that Kaju had tried to strangle me with. A hand touched my back. “Good morning, Nukumizu-san.”

Asagumo-san matched my pace. I choked on my words a couple times. “M-morning.”

“I didn’t know you took the train to school.” If she knew I existed, she was already ahead of the curve. I failed to think of anything to reply with, so she held her chin up high and continued, “Better late than never, I suppose, but I had a real talk with Mitsuki-san and Lemon-san. I think it went well. I’m confident our relationships will be all the better for it.”

“Oh. That’s good,” I said. And meant it, genuinely. I glanced around and leaned down to Asagumo-san’s ear. “Hey, so, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“Ask what?”

I lowered my voice. “Did you have one of those GPS trackers on Yakishio too?”

Asagumo-san made no apparent gesture that she’d even heard what I said. “I have a fun fact for you. Most small trackers have a limited battery life, typically lasting only a few days.”

“Interesting.” Was it?

“Now tell me. Would you still call a tracker a tracker, even without the ability to track? Or would junk be more accurate?” She tapped her finger against her chin a little too exaggeratedly and looked up at me. “What do you think?”

I would call such a device a dead tracker, but something told me this wasn’t the hill to die on. I dropped it. “You’re not at all the person I thought you’d be when we were in cram school together.”

“Really? How so?”

“I dunno. I just thought you’d be all business. All refined and, well…”

I scoffed at myself. It sounded stupid saying it out loud. Making all those assumptions about someone I’d never even spoken to.

Asagumo-san grabbed my shoulder and stretched on her tiptoes to my ear. “We all have our dark sides, Nukumizu-san. Even me.”

“Of that, I am aware.”

Asagumo-san stifled a laugh. I started to crack a smirk when a hand touched my back a tad more violently than the first time.

“Morning, Chiha-chan! Morning, Nukkun!” cheered Yakishio. The look on her face betrayed none of the utter chaos and drama of the past week.

I smiled back awkwardly. “M-morning.”

“Good morning, Lemon-san,” greeted Asagumo-san.

Yakishio wedged herself between us. “Didn’t think I’d find you two together. Sorry, Nukkun, but Chiha-chan’s mine.”

Chihaya. Chiha-chan. They’d sure gotten close fast.

“Hey, take her,” I said.

“And thanks, by the way.” Yakishio winked, then locked arms with her prey. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Of course,” Asagumo-san acquiesced. “I’ll see you later, Nukumizu-san.”

They picked up the pace together.

“So hey, Chiha-chan, I can come borrow that shampoo you talked about today, right?”

“I won’t be using the extra bottle anytime soon, so it’s yours. I could even give you an entire routine, if you want.”

If I didn’t know better, I would have called that chemistry. Asagumo-san played with Yakishio’s hair, and the latter didn’t seem all too displeased about it. Scandalous. Immoral. More, please.

As I observed respectfully, I heard a bike creak to a stop behind me. A tall boy swung off it and came up next to me. “Morning, Nukumizu.”

“Morning, Ayano.”

Here came trouble. The source of it all. The neutron star himself—Ayano Mitsuki. Man, it was one after the other. Maybe that shop guy had turned me into a stamp rally checkpoint.

“So what’s the deal with them?” I asked.

“Wish I could tell you. They’ve really hit it off.” Ayano sighed. “You can bet Chihaya’s heard every embarrassing story I have by now. What can you do, right?”

Ah, he was humblebragging again. It had only happened twice, but I was already sick of it. I made a mental note to be a little nicer to Yanami from now on.

“Cool. Give me time to escape the blast radius next time, please.”

“Anyway.” He threw his arm around my shoulder. “You tell me when you find the one. For real, this time. I’ll be your wingman.”

I couldn’t think of a single person I’d want less as a wingman. How would I know when I found “the one,” anyway? I considered my most available options…

Was it wrong of me to hope for better? The girls behind my phone screen didn’t require half as much maintenance as they did.

Yakishio and Asagumo-san spotted Ayano and waved.

“Morning, Mitsuki!” the former called out.

“Good morning, Mitsuki-san,” said Asagumo-san.

Mr. Popular waved back. “Morning, guys. Let’s catch up to ’em, Nukumizu.”

That sounded absolutely awful. I was already wiped, and I still had to put aside enough energy for whatever Yanami wanted after school.

“I’m gonna take my time,” I said. “You go on without me.”

“If you say so. See you later.”

He and his merry band sauntered through the school gate. I took my sweet time doing the same. No one else was going to bother me. Once I got in that classroom, I would be zen.

“Boy…”

I stopped. Had someone just said something to me? I looked around but didn’t see anyone I recognized. Must have been my imagination.

“Boy… Literature club boy.”

Someone’s breath tickled my ear, and my heart nearly leaped from my throat. Behind me, glued to my back like a shadow, was the student council’s own Shikiya-san, who was looking sicklier than ever.

“Um, can I help you, Senpai?” She reached for my neck, her spindly fingers tightening around my tie. I froze. “H-hello?”

“First day… Already, your necktie is loose.” Shikiya-san suddenly loosened her grip. She looked almost embarrassed. “Apologies. That was rude…” She pulled something off my collar and closed my hand around it. “Excuse me.”

I was left with a single strand of black hair—Kaju’s. How had it gotten there?

“Scatterbrained goober.”

I let the hair go in the wind. While I watched Shikiya-san leave, it occurred to me that I’d never given back her handkerchief.

“N-Nukumizu… D-dare I ask what you’re doing?”

“For the love of…” I was wasting my energy being surprised at this point. “Forget it. Hey, Komari.” She had ridden up on a bike. The white helmet looked good on her. An objective improvement, in my humble opinion. “Shikiya-senpai was fiddling with my uniform.”

“B-before that. With the g-guy.”

“That was Ayano from Class D. He’s been to the club room before.”

Komari wasn’t listening. “First the delinquent,” she muttered. “Then…the honor student.” She got that twinkle in her eye. There she went again.

“Hakamada’s not a delinquent, first of all. Second of all, keep your fantasies to yourself, pretty please.”

“Is it a s-secret?” Komari was off to the races. She started blushing and grinning, which I hated because it was kinda cute.

“It is neither secret nor public because there is nothing to be secret or public. I’m leaving before you make me late.”

I left her for the shoe cupboards.

Day one of the new semester was already off to an exhausting start. I was going to have to start coming to school earlier.

***

After school. The fire escape at the old annex. I was staring out over the campus grounds with Yanami, the pleasant September breeze carrying away the last of the summer heat.

“So you didn’t think to update me because…?” Yanami tore open the packaging on an Ogura sandwich from a local bakery. She was not happy.

I stabbed a straw into my milk. “You never asked. And in my defense, it wasn’t my info to share.”

“It never occurred to you that maybe I had a horse in this race? Like, they kinda made it my business.” She took an aggressive bite then plopped her elbows on the railing. “Whatever. All’s well that ends well, I suppose. So long as Lemon-chan’s happy.”

The track team was warming up out across the field. We could make out the echoes of an admonishment being hurled at a certain tan girl for trying to skip stretching.

“She’s definitely better,” I said. “At the very least, she can handle the rest by herself.” Yakishio had settled things on her own, in her own way. We’d had no part in that. In all matters of love, no matter its form, it really did come down to the parties involved. “Anyway, what happened to no more snacking?”

Gulping down the last of her sandwich, Yanami clapped her hands together. “I’ve won, Nukumizu-kun.”

“Congrats.” I had a bad feeling about this already.

Yanami didn’t care. “I lost 250 grams in a week, proving the efficacy of my strategy.”

That…really wasn’t a lot. “Did you try another scale?”

“Don’t you see? That’s a whole kilogram per month. The universe has granted me victory, Nukumizu-kun.” And me defeat for saying something in the first place. I uh-huh ’d her, utterly detached. “But here’s the problem. On a larger scale, that means losing twelve kilograms in a year, which may be potentially problematic health-wise.”

She had problems, all right. With her brain.

“So here’s the deal,” Yanami went on, pseudo-intellectualist conceit oozing off her every word. “I keep doing what I’m doing, but if I cancel it out by eating enough to gain a kilogram per month, I’ll maintain my weight perfectly. Am I a genius or what?”

“Yanami-san, I’m begging you to think about what you just said. Does any of that actually make sense?” Unfortunately, even I was too human to abandon her to her fate.

Even more unfortunately, Yanami nodded without a shred of doubt. “The scale doesn’t lie, Nukumizu-kun. And yes, I did the math. One kilogram of fat is roughly equal to 7,200 calories. That’s at least twenty cups of ramen. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” She cracked open a package of bread. “Sho bayshkly mhtegly shilldyding.” She swallowed (a few seconds too late, if you asked me). “I’m a visionary, dude. I’ve got the numbers to back me up. Man, I should write a book.”

“Save one for me so I can have your autograph.”

She would learn. One day. The numbers wouldn’t lie.

I sipped some milk, spacing out. Classes were off to an exceptionally normal start. They’d done a good job at shaking the last of that vacation fog. Back to routine.

Unrelatedly, Amanatsu-sensei’s Obon gamble hadn’t played out—she was still single, and she made sure we all knew that.

“Forgot Prez said the journal was done. Should go grab that,” I said.

“Oh, I did that already.” Yanami dug in her bag. “Here. Snagged one for you.”

Two men gazed longingly at each other on the cover. The clothing in particular seemed like a rush job. One could only wonder what the artist’s original intent had been.

I flipped through it. “Wow, I can’t believe Tsukinoki-senpai actually got hers in.” I skipped through the pages until something made me pause.

An entry for Yakishio’s picture diary.

The caption described us coming to visit her at her grandma’s. The illustration depicted the five of us all packed into a car, headed toward what looked to be a fairy-tale style castle. Presumably, the markings on the castle walls were meant to be the Tsuwabuki school emblem. I chose to let slide the fact that Yakishio had never actually been in the car with us.

I turned the page. Yanami’s story was next. Her previous work had been a bittersweet tale of love and karaage skewers. This next one had me curious. Ignoring all propriety, being literally right next to her and all, I read.

Literature Club Summer Activity Report: Yanami Anna—A Good Morning

Here I am, reading my magazines at the convenience store again. Well, pretending to, really. This corner of the 7-Eleven is where I have the best view of the intersection he always crosses every morning.

I’m going to tell him good morning. I know I will. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even walk to school together!

An intoxicating scent wafts by me just then. The clerk announces to the store, “Smoked arabiki sausage! Get it while it’s hot!”

7-Eleven is my weakness. Their snacks are just that good.

Their arabiki sausage is all natural. You can tell by the texture and the way the casing pops when you bite into it. And don’t get me started on that smoky aroma. It stirs up an appetite like nothing else. And they’re not too heavy for a morning snack either.

Usually they’re done earlier. They’re never fresh this late in the day.

I still don’t see him, so I make a run for it. Of all the days for there to be a line at the register. It feels like forever before it’s finally my turn.

“One smoked arabiki sausage, please!”

“That’ll be 116 yen.”

“I should have exact change.”

I open my wallet to check, and the automatic doors slide open. I hear his laugh. He’s waiting at the intersection with his friends.

The light turns green.

“No bag, please!”

I take my sausage on a stick and try to put away my wallet, but I can’t. My hands are full. Every second I waste, he gets further away.

I stuff the sausage into my mouth and run out the doors just as they start to close. (Author’s Note: Do not run with food in your mouth.)

I have to say it.

“***-kun, good mo—!”

The sausage falls from my mouth, but I catch it in midair. The light turns red, and my shoulders fall. He’s long gone, laughing with his friends.

Another morning without a “good morning.”

My sausage didn’t taste quite as good after that.

***

I was suddenly accosted by an inexplicable craving for sausages.

“I like your story,” I said. “Your passion for sausage really shines through.”

“Really? Man, I’m glad I went and tried some myself for research, then.” Yanami finished off her bread, then got real serious. “Hey. Nukumizu-kun.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“I have a boyfriend now.”

Wow. Okay. That was sudden. “Congrats?”

“Except I don’t.” Well, which was it? Yanami groaned. “I think I fished a little too hard on Instagram. All my friends think I’m seeing someone now, and they want to meet him…”

“Tell them you do not have a boyfriend.”

“I can’t!” she snapped. “I’m in too deep. I made my little breadcrumb trail of bait, and now I need to follow through or everyone’ll think I got dumped again!”

“Dumped? Again?”

Far as I recalled, she’d never made it that far.

She looked at me, a sneaky glint in her eye. “So I had an idea. Why not get myself a cover boy ?”

“A cover boy.”

“A cover boy. Just someone to show off and be all, ‘Heh,’ y’know?”

So a fake boyfriend. Now, which rom-com had I seen that trope in?

I definitely wasn’t interested, but I was a little interested, if that made sense. “Clever.”

“I know, right? So anyway, I had a favor to ask you.”

Call me crazy, but I had a feeling I knew where this was going. As extremely disinterested as I was in playing boyfriend, an innocent part of me did find the prospect of living out one of my light novels appealing.

“What kind of favor?” I asked, head tilted at a perfect forty-five degree angle. Nailed it.

Yanami leaned in. “I know this is asking a lot.”

“U-uh-huh?”

She leaned in closer. “Can you ask Ayano-kun if he’d be interested?! He’s hot and smart! He’d literally be perfect.”

“Are you for real right now?”

She looked pretty for real.

I rested my elbows on the railing and let the first whispers of fall caress my cheek. What a summer it had been. I prayed this new semester wouldn’t be half as eventful.

“So?” Yanami leaned against the rail with me. “Think you can do that for me?”

I knew what I thought. I gave her my most polite smile and told her.

“How about you find your own boyfriend?”