Loss 4: Let’s Talk Accountability

Loss 4: Let’s Talk Accountability

Loss 4:

Let ’ s Talk Accountability

T HREE DAYS POST-TSUWABUKI FEST. HINTS OF winter had fully replaced the festival energy.

“Once more, from the top.”

Komari and I stood across from each other in the club room after school.

She nodded, her eyes glued to the notes on her phone. “M-m-my name! L-lit-literature p… president ! Komari!” She wiped the sweat from her brow and beamed. “I-I did it!”

Debatable, I very nearly blurted out, but one couldn’t discount small victories when it came to this sort of thing.

“You’re getting there,” I said with not-at-all faked confidence. “I’d say you might even survive the meeting this weekend.”

I promptly sat down and opened a book.

“B-but talking in front of p-people’s different,” Komari grumbled, fidgeting. “I-I’m not so sure I can handle that.”

I promptly replaced my bookmark and closed my book.

We were practicing her self-introduction for the club president meeting coming up. As luck would have it, she also conveniently had a report to give at the same time.

“I can still go for you, you know.”

“N-no!” she blurted before flinching at the volume of her own voice. “I-I have to do it, o-or else I…” She flopped into a chair.

Komari, to put it mildly, was not a people person, much less a public speaker. And to make matters worse, most other presidents who would be present were upperclassmen. Honestly, I shared her doubts.

“Then at least let me do the report,” I argued.

“Th-that’s not any better.”

We’d done this song and dance more times than I could count by now. I got that if she was gonna do this president thing, she wanted to do it all the way, but still.

“We don’t have a whole lot of time to spare here. No one’ll care if you send me in your place this one time.”

Just as Komari started to scowl in preparation for her next retort, the door flew open. “All right, all right, I’ve heard enough.”

Yanami entered, thunked her bag down on the table, and then thunked herself down in a chair.

“You were listening?” I asked.

“Uh, no. It just seemed like the right thing to say at that moment. What are we talking about?” Fantastic. I caught her up to speed. “Okay, then let’s practice.”

Gee, why hadn’t I thought of that?

“We’ve been practicing. But it takes a little more than a day of reading a script out loud to get over chronic stage fright, so I was trying to tell her to just let me—”

“You’re doing it again, Nukumizu-kun.” Yanami shrugged wearily. “Not very supportive of our new president, is he, Komari-chan?”

She emphatically shook her head. “C-cut him some slack, though. N-Nukumizu’s just got problems.”

“That he does.”

I didn’t like whatever this budding alliance was.

Yanami leaned toward Komari. “How about we get a bit more hands-on? We could try Toyohashi Station.”

Now that was diving off the deep end.

“A-as long as we’re not standing out or anything.”

I was surrounded by crazies.

Yanami clapped once. “Okay. We’ve got the day off tomorrow, right? I say we go out. I’ve got an idea.”

“A-an idea?” Komari curled up like a scared hamster.

“Yeah. Sort of. I haven’t actually thought about it that much. I’ll figure it out.” She started humming and fiddling with her phone.

Ideas generally aren’t very good without thought behind them, but I began the process of making my peace with it anyway. I already knew they were going to rope me in. The things I did for this club.

“I mean, if Komari’s cool with it,” I said.

She shot me a look that screamed “I am absolutely not cool with it.” Was I supposed to be the voice of reason? With Yanami? Komari knew not what she asked of me.

“Perfect weather too,” Yanami chirped. “All right, you two, be up and at ’em tomorrow morning.”

“Yep. Will do.”

I had surrendered to my fate. Komari still had a ways to go.

***

Rolling puffs of clouds dotted a blue sky. Beneath it, Yanami, Komari, and I were using our day off at Nonhoi Park, a local zoo. Yanami’s “idea”: Komari was gonna talk to some animals. The obvious first step to getting used to people.

We did the rounds and eventually made our way to one of those feeding areas where sheep wandered about. Real sheep. Live ones. Positively tangible, they were.

I held out some grass, and a little dude came up and munched. Astonishing.

“You’re, like, king sheep, Nukumizu-kun.” Yanami stepped back and snapped a picture.

“It’s the food they want. They might have a queen, though.” I pointed over to Komari.

Her subjects thronged around her. Wow, that was a lot of sheep.

“She could probably use some help,” Yanami said.

“Probably. But real sheep are big and freaky. Have you seen their eyes?”

“Zoos are disillusioning our youth.” She crept up to one and pressed her hand deep into its wool. “Dang, these guys are poofy.”

“You really think this is gonna make good practice? I’m not seeing a whole lot of that going on.”

She’d seen some elephants and a red panda stand on its hind legs but had yet to hold many conversations with any of them.

Yanami grinned confidently. “Komari-chan’s been on edge for too long. I think the change of pace could do her some good. Get her out of her head a little.”

“If I know her, getting out’s the last thing she wants to do.”

“Well, sometimes you gotta. It’s easy to get stuck in a loop and overthink things when you’re all by yourself. Especially when you’re delicate like us.”

Surely “us” didn’t include Yanami. Not that I was going to ask, no matter how tempting the bait.

The sheep were less resistant to whims and drifted further and further toward Komari.

“Hope she doesn’t drown over there,” said Yanami.

“Hey, she’s the one who wanted to pet the animals. Don’t wanna spoil her fun now, do we?”

Komari had become the source of a sheep singularity. In an attempt to escape their impatient nudging and nibbling, she raised her arms up along with the food—a mistake. Her woolly assailants wouldn’t release her until she gave up what she had.

“She did say that, but I think she meant more like rabbits and guinea pigs,” Yanami pointed out. “See? They’re over that way.”

I checked the map. Yup. There sure was a rabbit-petting area right next door. My mistake.

I looked up just in time to witness Komari succumb to the fuzzy ocean. Her shrieks were still the most feminine part about her.

I hurried to her rescue.

***

Komari was not very appreciative. “Y-you left me to die, y-you jerk.”

“Look, it’s not my fault. Have you seen their eyes?”

And for the record, I didn’t leave her to die, because I did eventually go to save her.

Her attitude didn’t last long, thankfully. This was kind of her day, and gradually, the animals put her back in good spirits.

Yanami stretched the map out, walking between the two of us. “Man, I love sun bears. Goofy little guys. So where to next?”

We’d already been to the ostriches and the otters and stuff. As far as I was concerned, that left one more stop. “Let’s check out the nocturnal section. I’m a fan of the dormice.”

“R-really,” Komari sneered. “A-aardvarks are cuter.”

There could be no peace between us.

Yanami wagged her finger at me. “Didn’t your mom ever teach you? Ladies first. Where do you wanna go, Komari-chan?”

She made a noise and stammered a few times. “Th-the botanical gardens w-would be nice.”

Yanami cocked her head. “You sure? You can’t eat any of the fruit there.”

Komari and I nodded slowly in perfect unison. Truce.

***

Nonhoi Park’s garden area was situated in a northern corner.

We were walking along an outdoor path when Komari noticed something. “Wh-where’d Yanami go?”

“She went to get snacks. She’s on a diet.”

“She’s… What?”

“Her current theory is that she can lose weight by eating more often. Don’t think about it too much.”

“O-oh. Okay.”

Best she left it at that. For both of our sakes.

Some birds zipping by overhead drew my eye. “I usually only ever visit the greenhouse, but this place isn’t so bad either.”

“The o-outdoor gardens are quiet. I like them.”

It was oddly warm for November. Comfortable. Komari set a gentle pace.

“The camellias are in bloom. Are those a winter flower?”

“Those are s-sasanqua.” I must have shown my confusion on my face, because Komari gave me a look. “Th-they’re different. Look at the leaves. A-and the petals.”

I looked. It didn’t help much. Flowers I couldn’t do, but hamsters? I knew my hamsters.

I was idly eyeing a rose off to the side when Komari suddenly stopped. “H-hey. Can we…practice?”

“Here?”

“I-I wanna try something harder. Than in the club room.” She pointed to a bench at the base of a tree.

The place was pretty barren, it being a weekday and all. Maybe it would make a good spot.

I sat down. Komari fished out a thoroughly wrinkled piece of paper. “H-here goes.” She stood in front of me and cleared her throat. “I-I’m the n-new president o-of—of the l-l-literature club. Koma-Komari Chika. P-p-p-pleasure to m-meet you!” And then she let out a big sigh. “H-how was that?”

“Uh, well, a lot better than last time.”

“It was?” Komari took the spot next to me with a smile. “B-break time.”

She was getting better. A lot better. One thing still bugged me, though. “You talk fine with me and Yanami-san. What is it about this that trips you up so much?”

“Th-there’s gonna be tons of people I don’t know. Just the thought of it makes me…ugh, nauseous.” She quickly loosened her grip and flattened the paper upon realizing she was scrunching it. “I-I have to get the report down next.”

She looked down and started mumbling the script to herself.

I tilted my head up and stared at the branches. Clouds peeked through a mosaic of leaves that blotted out the sky. Summer made no guest appearance.

Without the third-years, the lit club went from six to four. It still felt like six to me, though. I wasn’t looking forward to the day when it stopped.

Branches shook their leaf maracas in the wind. Birds chirped, reciting after Komari’s mumblings. Calm. There was peace and quiet all around us, but none of it was to be found in the wrinkles on her harried face. I couldn’t recall a single moment in recent memory when she wasn’t frowning like the world was riding on her shoulders.

Well, not the world. Just the lit club. And it was supposed to be my job to make sure that responsibility didn’t crush her. Given the fact that she’d already passed out from exhaustion once before, I wasn’t very good at it.

I remembered her reaching for the poster in the classroom. Why was Komari always alone when I thought about her? Why was she always clutching at something just out of reach?

“I’ll do the report,” I blurted.

Komari jumped and looked up. “I-I told you. No, you won’t.”

“The meeting’s two days from now.” I was panicked. Impatient. I could tell that much. But not because of Komari.

“I-I know that, but I…”

“It’s not gonna happen, okay? Not that I’ve got a way with words or anything, but I can make do. I can help.” Her mouth hung open for a split second. I didn’t let her continue. “I can read a script just fine. You can count on me.”

It hit me far too late that I’d screwed up. Royally.

Komari’s eyes wavered. “Why do you…?” She struggled to form words. “Why do you k-keep saying I can’t do it?”

“What? No, that’s not what I—”

“I-I know it’s easy for you, but I’m trying, okay? I’m trying, and I’m practicing, a-and I thought I was getting better.” She started to shake.

“I know that. I know. I’m not trying to deny any of that. You’re the president now, and you want to do a good job, but I’m saying—”

“I never wanted to be president!” Komari shot to her feet. “I-I was finally getting over him. Tamaki-senpai. Prez. B-but now all of a sudden, I’m Prez?! I don’t… I…” Tears fell from a face hung too low for me to see. With every drop, she seemed to shrink even smaller.

“Komari, we can still talk about it if being president is too much for you.”

“W-well, who else is gonna do it?!” she screamed.

I was stunned. I’d never heard her so hysterical, so bitter before.

She stood there for a while, shoulders heaving. Once she’d caught her breath, she turned and walked away. I started to follow.

Without so much as a glance in my direction, she shouted, “S-stay away from me!”

That stopped me dead. That was it. I’d crossed a line, and she wanted nothing to do with me.

I just stood there. Eventually, she vanished from view. And I kept standing there.

“Whew, there you are, Nukumizu-kun. Sorry that took me so long.”

A familiar voice snapped me out of it. I blinked, slowly turning toward Yanami like I’d just woken up from a bad dream. “Hey. Um…”

“Where’s Komari-chan?” She whipped her head around, her hair narrowly avoiding the churros in her hand.

“I…” I collapsed back onto the bench and slumped over. “I messed up.”

Yanami tried to decipher what I meant, then took a seat next to me. “Not used to seeing you like this.” She took a bite of her churro and squinted at the sky.

“I just… I’m sorry. I…”

“Hey, I won’t pry. Is there anything I can do?”

I shook my head.

She said, “M’kay.” Then took another bite.

Time passed. I couldn’t say how much.

I forced my eyes open, carefully, as if all the bad thoughts might come rushing back if I moved too fast. It was still bright out. The wind was still blowing. The sun was still shining.

Surely, Yanami must have left already.

I slowly turned to my side, and there she was. Still sitting quietly. She noticed me and smiled.

I nearly broke down.

***

Nothing much happened the next day. Classes flew by, and homeroom came in a blink.

Amanatsu-sensei patted the chalk off her hands. “That about does it for the announcements. Now y’all better appreciate the rest of your day while I’m stuck here doing overtime, got it? Good. Dismissed.”

Chairs screeched and scooted. Conversations started.

I remained firmly planted where I was. Believe it or not, I wasn’t exactly raring to go to the club room. As if wallowing was a better alternative.

A wave of flowers hit me. That unique BGM started to play in my head.

“You look down, Nukumizu-kun.” Himemiya Karen, of all people. Blinding as ever.

“Huh? I…”

“Hey, no spoilers. Allow me. Yours truly will crack this case lickety-split.” She held a finger to her forehead and pretended to rack her brain.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Himemiya-san’s eyes shot open as she swung her finger down in my direction. “Eureka! You’re hungry!”

“Little off the mark.”

“Darn. That usually works with Anna.”

If Yanami was her baseline, she was further off the mark than previously estimated.

“Did you need me for something?” I asked languidly.

She squatted down and rested her elbows on my desk. “I’ve been trying to figure something out. You and Anna. How’d it happen? Where’s the intersect?”

I glanced around for her. Yanami was already gone, it seemed.

Why was she asking me that? Why now? Frankly, she couldn’t have picked a worse time.

I chose my words carefully. “We’re in the same club.”

“Nice try, but I have it on good authority you two were buddies even before that.” Himemiya-san leaned forward, peering up at me. “There’s something about you. Something that just makes you… get each other.”

An unnerving thought.

“It’s not that complicated,” I said. “Where’d this come from anyway?”

“Anna’s been off today. Wouldn’t you wanna know why your best friend’s acting funny?” I had a hunch, and it probably had to do with yesterday. Side note: Suddenly, Yanami’s yammerings about her ex-rival being all clingy made a lot more sense. “That was you in her story in the journal, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

What was she talking about this time? What did I have to do with Yanami’s self-insert convenience store food fic?

“The classmate that shows up in it. She’s writing, like, a diary, right?”

“Just because it’s in first-person doesn’t make it autobiographical.”

“Yeah?”

If first-person equated to personal experience, I would have been quite the playboy. And better at not hurting people. Or alienating myself.

I found myself at a loss for words.

“Hey, Karen-chan! Sorry!” Yanami bounced over. Bubbly Yanami.

Himemiya-san grinned and stood up. “Sheesh, thought I was gonna sprout a few gray hairs waiting on you.”

“Hey, I said I’m—oh. Nukumizu-kun. Not going to club today?”

“I was, um…” I trailed off.

Yanami stared at me blankly. “Actually, you and Sousuke go ahead, Karen-chan.”

Himemiya-san blinked, glancing between the two of us. “We can wait if you’ve got something.”

“This’ll probably take a while. Sorry.”

“Okey dokey. See you tomorrow, then!” She tagged Yanami’s hand and headed out. But not without a subtle look my way.

Why did I get the feeling plans were just made without my consent?

Yanami planted a hand on her hip and acknowledged me again. “Walk with me.”

Literature Club Fall Activity Report: Yanami Anna—It’s Not Over till I Say It’s Over

I’m a new me this morning. Because this morning, I’m finally gonna say “good morning.” I have the perfect plan and everything.

I set myself up at the eating area in the Seven-Eleven on the way to school. Extra early this time. Usually, I miss him because I’m ordering extra snacks at the register or waiting on my hot dogs to warm up.

The solution? Tsukune onigiri.

Why tsukune onigiri? Because tsukune onigiri doesn’t need to be warmed up. So he’s not getting by me this time.

The thing about the tsukune is the gristle, and the sweet-spicy sauce, and the special kind of mayo they use. It’s to die for. It doesn’t need to be warmed up to be to die for. Oh, and I get a latte too. I love the foam. I’ve been addicted lately.

I’m listening to the coffee machine growl when I notice someone behind me.

“Oh, A-ko-san. Didn’t know you drank things that weren’t sweet.”

It’s my classmate, XX-kun. He’s kind of a jerk, to be honest. I notice the iced coffee cup in his hand and feel a little bad for him. He hasn’t seen the light of the latte.

I ignore him and focus my attention outside the window. I do a double take, because he’s there already, waiting at the stop light with his friends. I let my guard down. I thought I had time because I don’t usually leave this early.

I try to pry open the protective cover to swipe my coffee and go, but it’s locked tight. So I tap my foot and wait. It finally beeps. I have my latte. Now to stick a lid on and I’m golden.

The stoplight turns green. I have just enough time if I hurry. I fly out of the automatic doors but fly back in just as quickly.

I forgot the sugar.

XX-kun sees me and tosses me something. I catch it. It’s sugar. He must have noticed.

I trudge back to the eating area anyway.

“What? I guess wrong?”

I ignore him again and crack open the lid. He doesn’t notice everything. He wouldn’t get it.

I dump the sugar into my coffee. Two packets. Because that’s how I like it, okay?

***

A fresh, steaming plate of yaki udon lay before me. Next to me at the counter sat Yanami.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

When she said, “walk with me,” I’d expected a lecture. Maybe an admonishment. I didn’t think we’d literally walk to an udon place.

Yanami put her hands together in thanks for the food. I quickly did the same.

“So,” she finally said, “I have an announcement before we dig in.” She penetrated the pile of noodles with her chopsticks and hoisted a bunch up. “I’ve lost two kilos in two months.”

“Wait, you’re joking.”

Yanami froze with her mouth open wide and glared at me. “I’ll have you know, those three I gained over the summer are as good as gone. Isn’t that crazy? You should be happy for me.”

Still had one kilo to make up for, I noted.

“Sure, I just don’t get how that happens with your appetite. You sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

“I’m being careful, okay? I don’t get seconds. I don’t get larges. I’m basically an ascetic monk over here,” she said, slurping up a gaggle of noodles.

The fact that her “diet” had worked said more about her old eating habits than it did about the diet itself, honestly.

We ate in silence for a while. When I was about halfway done, Yanami set her chopsticks down. “Have you talked to Komari-chan?”

“N-no.”

I tensed up, preparing myself for a scolding, but none came. Yanami just hummed mildly and took a sip of water.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” I asked.

“Nope. Did you want me to?” She put her glass down. I didn’t reply. “It’s no one’s job to make you feel better, Nukumizu-kun.”

“Right.” I quietly shoveled in some more udon.

“Gotta reap what you sow. You’re used to it by now, I’m sure. You do you.”

I wasn’t sowing on purpose.

“The thing is, I genuinely said some terrible things to her. Even I can tell when I’ve gone too far.”

“Oh, then yeah, that’s on you. You never did understand the intricacies of the female mind.” She picked up her chopsticks again. “I’m sensing there’s a lot of things that are being left unsaid. Have you two, y’know, ever actually talked ?”

“Yes, we—” I froze as I reached for my glass. I’d done a lot of talking. Even more assuming. How much could I say I even really knew about how Komari felt?

“It takes two to tango, Nukumizu-kun. Your feelings aren’t the only ones that matter. Conversation’s about letting the other person have a turn.”

“Conversation…”

My kryptonite. But that wasn’t an excuse. My incompetence had hurt someone, and to deflect that felt wrong.

Just as that familiar, endless web of thoughts threatened to entangle me all over again, Yanami smiled and pulled me out. “But hey, don’t beat yourself up too much. C’est la vie. You do you, remember?”

“Me doing me is what got me into this mess.”

“So you slipped and fell a bit. Big deal. Tell ya what. As an ex-resident of rock bottom, lemme fill you in on the secret to climbing out.”

I questioned the “ex” part of “ex-resident.” Did I want her advice? Then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Sure,” I said. “Lay it on me.”

“Stop thinking about whether she hates you now or not. Consider how Komari-chan feels—and I mean really consider. Talk it out like big kids. And then you go back to business as usual.”

“And what if I screw it up again?”

Yanami grinned as the last of her udon clung to her cheek. “Let me know where you want me to scatter your ashes.”

Cremated this time. Neat.

I slurped up the last of my noodles, though not quite as impressively as Yanami had.

***

I stared mindlessly out the tram window.

Yanami was right. I was always quick to try to “fix” problems, but even quicker to abandon them once it turned out I didn’t have the tools for the job. I was quick to assume I knew what was best. But slow to realize when I didn’t. Always too slow.

The quickly darkening cityscape became distorted. Droplets of water adhered to the glass and contorted the world outside. A drizzle became rain. I hadn’t brought an umbrella.

It was a bit of a trek to get back home from the station. Unless I ran.

“Right. So I can be wet and tired.”

I stepped off the tram, resigned to walking. Right on cue, it started to pour. Running returned with a convincing argument.

Just then, an umbrella hung over me. I stopped. It was Kaju, smiling.

I didn’t have it in me to return it, so I looked away. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“I was worried.”

I took the umbrella. “Wait, you just brought the one?”

“I sort of left in a hurry and forgot to bring another one.” Kaju bopped herself on the head. “Oopsie.”

Goober, I thought.

We huddled close together as we walked, doing our best to hide from the rain.

“How’d you know I’d be on this tram?”

She giggled. “Love works in mysterious ways.”

I decided not to justify her sense of humor with a response and watched the puddles instead. A group of junior high school girls came squealing past. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one who’d forgotten their umbrella. Absentmindedly, I watched them scurry.

Kaju grabbed me by the cheeks and turned me toward her. “What happened yesterday, Oniisama?”

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean?”

“You’ve been distracted ever since you got home from your trip. I’m worried about you.”

I’d made a conscious effort to act natural. Apparently not effort enough.

“I just…upset someone.”

Wrong. I’d hurt someone. Why couldn’t I get through to myself? Why did I always have to dress things up all pretty? Like it made what I’d done any better.

I kept walking. Didn’t elaborate. Kaju had to jog to keep up with me. I didn’t realize how fast I’d been walking.

She giggled at my abruptly slowed pace. “I knew you loved me, Oniisama.”

I stopped. And they called me obsessed. “As a sister.”

“I suppose. But there was a point where I thought you were my dad. Remember when I first started to walk? You followed me everywhere and never let me out of your sight, just in case I fell.”

There was a lot there I couldn’t quite unravel.

“You were a year old when you started walking. You remember that?”

“All of my memories with you are clear as day,” she said without a hint of hyperbole. “And you always came running whenever I cried at daycare.”

“Because that’s what brothers do.”

“That’s certainly what you do.” Kaju strolled ahead of me. I held the umbrella forward and quickened my pace. “Elementary school was chaotic, but you were always there with me instead of playing with your friends.” Because I didn’t have any friends. “And you taught me so much in junior high. I still have the map you made me of campus water lines. I even had it laminated.”

I didn’t even remember that. Honestly, I preferred not to remember a lot of what she was dredging up.

Kaju gently touched my hand. “You cared for me, Oniisama. You set me straight when I did wrong, but you never forced anything on me.”

“Because I wanted you to be you.”

She cracked a playful smirk. “Not that I’m opposed to a little bit of you.”

“Please stop.” A small grin snuck up on me.

“You smiled.” Her smirk became a full-faced beam. Many times my own.

Only then did it hit me how out of practice my smile felt. How glum an expression my face had been frozen in. Yanami had seriously been a trooper for putting up with it.

“I like it when you smile,” Kaju said softly. “I don’t ever want you to stop. Because that’s the kind of man I want to point at and say, ‘that’s my big brother.’”

“Nonstop smiling sounds exhausting, not gonna lie.”

“I’m not known for being reasonable. Now what do you want, Oniisama?”

I stopped again. Kaju looked up at me, waiting for my answer.

“You said you wanted me to be me,” she continued. “So the girl you hurt. What do you want for her?”

“I…”

I let my mind wander back to the zoo. That moment when she’d turned her back to me, and the wall went up. And how she didn’t look back once.

I still stood by much of what I’d said that day. But I hadn’t gone about it right. Not at all. I’d taken a shortcut to satisfy my own ego at the cost of Komari’s agency. I’d tried to change her.

Selfish. Conceited. Egotistical.

My ego was the problem. But it was also the answer.

I turned away and shyly scratched my nose. “Thanks, Kaju.”

“Was I helpful?”

“Yeah. I think I know what I should do now. Or what I want to do, rather.”

“Good. I hope it goes well.”

“We’ll see.”

The rain had stopped. I folded up the umbrella, revealing the moon hanging overhead through freshly parted clouds.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kaju muttered. And then she hurried off.

Wait a minute. “How did you know I was talking about a girl?”

Kaju paused, turned, and glared. After a moment’s pout, she stuck her tongue out. “Women’s intuition.”

***

The next day, after school, a new assortment of post-festival club presidents were to gather for their first meeting. I stood just outside the room, watching students come and go down the hallway with Yanami. Komari was still missing.

“I take it you haven’t talked yet.” Yanami gave me a thoroughly unimpressed look.

I pretended not to notice. “These things take time. Like getting to your light novel backlog.”

“Stop buying light novels that you aren’t going to read.”

But if I didn’t buy them, then I wouldn’t have them!

“I’m gonna talk to her when I see her,” I said. “Look. I even brought apology snacks.”

“What are you, customer service?”

The internet said the best kind of apology was one with compensation. The internet wouldn’t lie.

Yanami peered into the bag. “Oooh, financier cakes. All right. You’ve convinced me. Lemme just take that off your hands for you.”

“Uh, no? Hey! Stop pulling! You’re not getting it!”

It felt like I was playing tug-of-war with someone’s poorly trained dog. We went back and forth for a while before a pair of gleaming pale white eyes inserted themselves between us. “Quiet…in the hallway.”

Yanami and I screeched and leapt back. Shikiya-san didn’t flinch.

“S-Senpai!” I stammered. “What’re you—” Actually, I knew. She was part of the student council, and technically they were the ones hosting the meeting in the first place. “Hey, did you happen to see Komari anywhere? She’s supposed to be present today.”

“The small one…?”

“Yeah. Would you mind lending her a bit of support? She’s sort of new to this whole thing.”

“Support…” She looked Yanami up and down, hard, then nodded. “Relationships are…complicated.”

Not in the way she’d surely just assumed. Shikiya-san lightly touched my shoulder then shambled back into the meeting room. My faith in her was hanging by a thread.

“She kinda freaks me out,” Yanami muttered. The first words out of her mouth, and they were just plain rude.

The meeting time neared. The relevant parties started filing into the room, among them a tiny shrimp of a girl—Komari.

I ran up to her. “Komari! Hang on.”

She froze. “Wh-what?” She clutched a stack of papers to her chest.

“I, um… I wanted to apologize for the other day.”

“D-do it after the meeting.” She brushed past me and drifted into the room without a second glance.

“Oooh, she’s pissed,” Yanami chimed in, her mouth full of something.

“What are you eating?” I asked. “Did you steal something from the bag?”

“Relax. Just one.”

“I swear, you—”

Komari’s pained expression flashed through my mind. It was my fault, and some snacks weren’t going to just magic all that under the bridge.

Was that what Yanami was trying to tell me?

“What’s with that face? Need a cry? Hey, I’m here for you, buddy.” She reached for a second, crumbs littering her cheeks.

I felt like an idiot for assuming better of her.

Meanwhile, the door closed on us. The meeting had begun.

***

Fifteen minutes into the meeting, and from what I could make out, the student council seemed to have wrapped up their announcements. Now came the club reports. The lit club would come up any minute now.

Some rustling drowned out the voices inside the room. Yanami had her grubby little mitts in the bag with my cakes.

“That’s the last one, Yanami-san. I’m serious.”

“I know, I know. You make it sound like I’m some glutton.”

As the handball club finished speaking, a voice announced, “Now the literature club. Your report, please.” It came from Basori Tiara, student council vice president.

I pried open the door just a crack and peered inside.

“Hey, squat down,” Yanami hissed. She pressed herself against my back.

Ignoring the uncomfortable weight and growing heat, I scanned the room for her. I found Komari when she darted to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair in the process.

Her eyes were glued to the notes written on her palm. “I-I’m l-liter-literature c-club…!” she squeaked. “K-Koma…!”

Come on! I found myself clenching my fists.

She started coughing and reached for the water bottle offered to all present. The cap came off and then fell to the floor. It rolled and clattered all the way to the inaccessible center of the square of desks set up in the room.

It was over.

But just then, Shikiya-san came to life for a moment. “Literature club… Komari Chika. Pleasure.”

Komari, paler than even her savior, nodded a few more times than she needed to.

Tiara-san sent a performative glance at the clock on the wall. “Let’s hear your report.”

“Y-ye-yes, ma’am!” Komari snatched up her papers before promptly dropping them. They fluttered everywhere. She froze up again.

“Your report, literature club,” Tiara-san pressed.

“Um, r-right, I-I—”

“If you have nothing to report, then please take a seat.”

Komari scrambled for her scattered materials. “W-wait, um…”

“I’m sorry, but we’re pressed for time. Broadcasting club, will you please—”

I squeezed my eyes shut. That was it. She’d failed.

The air in the room was awkward, but it would fade. Those present would remember and cringe for a day or three after the fact, and then they’d forget. No one would care.

But Komari cared. She would remember. Maybe forever. And it would sting every time.

I opened my eyes again. She was still standing, completely petrified. While the rest of her was locked in time, something inside was crumbling, about to come undone.

Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was crazy. But I couldn’t stand seeing her like this.

I had convinced myself that Komari couldn’t do it. I had forced her to change, because she couldn’t do it as she was. But I could. Because I never made mistakes.

Unfortunately, mistakes were my specialty.

The door burst open. I barely even processed that I was the one who’d done it. All eyes gathered on me as I approached Komari, taking a spot at her side. She looked up at me like she was witnessing a murder in progress.

She might as well have been. It was certainly as impulsive. I hadn’t given a single thought to what my endgame even was, so I just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Sorry I’m late. I’m Nukumizu Kazuhiko, president of the literature club.”

It was like a bomb had gone off. Tiara-san frowned and looked down at her paper. “I don’t see your name here. Have you turned in the necessary paperwork?” She held me in a cold, sharp gaze.

The student council president finally spoke her first words all meeting, reining her in. “Now, now. Details later. Please, continue.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Komari fixed me with a glare twice as cold and twice as sharp as Tiara-san’s. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’ll handle this. Let me see those papers, okay?” I held my hand out for them. She just stood there, shaking. “Komari?”

“I… I can’t believe you!” she howled, hurling the papers at my face.

“W-wait—”

“A-after everything I d-did! Everything I…!” Next came the water bottle. She stormed out of the room, leaving deathly silence in her wake.

I picked up the bottle and combed back my soaking bangs. Part of me wished she’d at least put the cap back on before flinging it at me.

“I-is everything okay?” Tiara-san asked. Even she looked a little fazed.

“Fine.” I put on a wide, ingratiating smile and collected the waterlogged papers off the floor again. “Now that report.”

***

I sat in an empty room. The meeting had ended a while ago, and I was the last one left.

“Wow. That was a train wreck, dude.” Yanami clunked a chair next to me and sat down.

She wasn’t wrong. I definitely felt like a victim of one.

I collapsed my torso onto the desk. Yanami patted me on the back. “It is what it is,” she said. “Here. You can have the last one.”

“What do you mean ‘last one’?”

Yanami waited for me to take it. When I didn’t, she tore into it herself. “Making yourself the bad guy’s one way to take the heat off Komari-chan. But, well, I can’t really blame her if she hates your guts now.” She held the financier in between her teeth and tore it in half. “Not sure how good a trade-off that is, to be honest. Here. Take half.”

She shoved one end of the financier into my hand. Awesome. Not like I hated eating after people or anything.

She smirked teasingly at me. “Scared you’ll catch my cooties?”

Not hers specifically, no. She wasn’t special.

I stuffed my face with it anyway, too worn out to care. “We need to find her. You see where she went?”

“Uh, I couldn’t tell you. She moved pretty fast.”

“Okay. Then let’s put our heads together and try to—”

“Hold up. What do you mean ‘put our heads together’? Isn’t splitting up the thing to do here?”

“W-well, I don’t actually know what I’d say if I found her first. I was sorta hoping…” Yanami stared at me, daring me to finish that sentence. “Er, never mind. I’ll figure something out.”

I got off my butt fast. Anything to get those eyes off me.

***

The sun fell faster than I could move. Dusk quickly became night, and the moon hung high. I exited the west annex and stared up at it.

I’d tried the club room, Komari’s classroom, the library, various sinks and water fountains—no dice anywhere. Her bike was still in the racks, so she had to be around somewhere. The problem was I only had one idea left.

“The girl’s bathroom…”

I couldn’t. Some lines couldn’t be crossed. But then again, I’d already crossed so many, what were a few more? Didn’t desperate times call for desperate measures?

Before I could settle the debate, a tall man rounded a nearby corner. It was Tamaki-senpai—formerly Prez. He raised a hand in greeting and came over.

“Senpai, I—”

He nodded. “Yanami-san filled me in. Koto and Yakishio-san are on the hunt too. Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

“Oh.” I hung my head. “Okay.”

He bumped my chest with his fist. “Thanks, by the way. I knew we picked the right guy for the job.”

Thanks? Thanks for that ? I didn’t have a clue what he was praising me for. Maybe it was just lip service. Either way, it did feel good to hear. It helped. A little.

“I’m gonna keep looking,” I said.

“Same. Got a few more places to check myself.”

We split up. I followed along the west annex, all the way to its edge. And there, on the outskirts, I could just barely make out the silhouette of the old annex.

How could I have forgotten?

Maybe I hadn’t. Maybe I was just scared of finding her and subconsciously avoiding the inevitable.

I took a deep breath and made for the fire escape.

***

Once upon a time, when Yanami was still making me lunch, this had been our meetup spot. Even when she stopped, I didn’t stop coming. I’d swing by every now and then when I wanted to be alone, and Komari adopted the habit herself. She’d always complain about finding me there. I’d always tell her she could pick a different landing to chill at. She never would.

I always wondered why.

I took my first step up the stairs, and an automatic light flickered on. It was the only one in this whole dark corner of campus.

I kept climbing. Slowly. One step at a time.

“There you are.”

Komari stood on the second-floor landing, so small she would have been invisible if not for the cold fluorescent light illuminating the fire escape.

“Wh-why are you here?”

“To talk, I guess.” I tried to move next to her but couldn’t. There was a wall. Invisible but nonetheless present. “Komari, I—”

“Why?” she rasped. “Wh-why did you do it?”

“I’m sorry. I know what I did was out of line, but I—”

“Out of line?!” Komari puffed up and swiftly, violently closed the distance I’d been too afraid to. “H-how many times did I say I could do it?! That I was f-fine?! That I h- had to do it?!” She huffed and shook until she was blue in the face. “Wh-why are you always so…! S-so…!”

Frustrated with the inadequacy of her own voice, she yanked out her phone. Her fingers moved at light speed, her shoulders still heaving.

My phone let out a nice cheery blip that wasn’t doing the mood any favors. I checked the notification. She’d sent me a DM on LINE.

I opened the app, a little fearfully.

“I was the only first-year in the club for so long.”

She clutched her phone with trembling hands. Tears welled up in her eyes as she smashed her fingers against the screen. The words they formed filled mine, one message after another.

“It was always just the three of us. There were no second-years. No one. I knew it couldn’t last. Every single day, I’d think about how the clock was ticking. How one day, when they graduated, I’d be alone all over again.”

This wasn’t her running from confrontation. In that moment, her phone wasn’t an escape. It was a conduit for her every thought and feeling.

“I managed to get you, but that was like pulling teeth. And now there are four of us, but everyone would rather be somewhere else! You could all up and leave whenever you want! You all have somewhere to go!”

And they were pure. Unadulterated. Through the written word, Komari shone more brightly than ever.

“But the lit club is all I have! I have to protect it when they’re gone! It has to be me!”

She liked to act snippy. Especially with me. But I’d seen the way she fiddled with her clothes when she got nervous. Nibbled on cheap bread during lunch. Left comments on all my stories.

“I have to do this, or else I’ll never be okay with being alone!”

I’d seen the way she could smile. The way she compartmentalized stress. The way she worked for what she wanted in spite of it. I’d seen who Komari was.

“I’m not good with people. I don’t have any friends. I’m bad at everything. I’m scared of everything. But I have this. It’s the one place I can belong.”

She stopped typing. With her voice raspy and barely audible in the breeze, she said, “S-so stop pretending like you care. Y-you’re just gonna ditch me anyway.”

What an idiot I’d been.

Komari and I weren’t birds of a feather at all. I liked being alone. In fact, I thrived in it. But Komari… Komari craved company. She got lonely and sad and missed people when they weren’t around. Just like any other ordinary girl.

She gripped her phone tight, shoulders shivering in the cold. Like any other ordinary girl would.

I started to speak, stopped, and started tapping at my phone. These words had to be written.

The message sent. Komari wiped her eyes with her sleeve and read it. She read it several more times before slowly looking up. “Wh-what does this mean?”

What did she mean, “what does this mean”? Did I have to spell it out?

I cleared my throat and faced her straight on. “It means I, uh… I think about you a lot.”

Komari made a shrill squeaking noise. Was she a moeblob now?

“Your writing, I mean,” I said. “I like it a lot.”

“M-my… My writing?” Her mouth hung open dumbly.

“Yeah. You’re way better than me, and we wouldn’t be much of a club without you, so, y’know. Keep at it. And I’ll be on the sidelines helping out how I can. Which, uh, may not be very much. But, um…” I thought hard about my next words. About everything Komari had just shared with me. “You don’t have to be alone.”

There was a long silence.

Komari hugged her phone. “D-did you mean it?”

“Huh?”

“Wh-what you—”

Suddenly, there was a whole lot of banging and clanging from below. Someone was coming up. I caught a glimpse of something tawny, but it was too late for me.

“You leave my Komari-chan alone!”

Before I knew it, she had me in a headlock. Here was a sensation I had really hoped to never experience again. “Y-Yakishio!” I choked. “Can’t…breathe!”

“I can’t believe you, Nukkun! Bullying Komari-chan! I thought you were better than that!”

I struggled in vain. My lungs screamed for oxygen. My vision dimmed. So this is how it ends.

“H-h-he wasn’t bullying me!” Komari stammered.

“He wasn’t?”

She loosened her grip just enough for me to slip out. “J-jeez, I thought you were seriously gonna do me in this time.”

“Well, yeah. I heard you two got in a fight, and then I saw all the messages. Can you blame me?”

I could, actually.

Wait, messages?

Just then, Yanami came lumbering up the stairs. “Lemon-chan,” she wheezed. “Let’s not…be rash.” She stumbled forward and clutched at Yakishio for support.

“My bad,” said my assailant. “I heard them talking and couldn’t help myself. You know how it is.”

“Guys,” I interjected. “What messages did you see? You knew what we were talking about?”

Yakishio tilted her head and showed me her phone. “Uh, yeah. It’s all in the club group chat.”

Komari squawked. She started swiping at her phone so fast I thought she might start blowing steam.

Yakishio threw her arms around her and squeezed. “I had no idea you felt that way, Komari-chan. Well, don’t you worry. We’re your friends, and we’re not going anywhere!”

“C-can’t breathe,” Komari groaned.

Seeing them together—suffocation notwithstanding—felt liberating, oddly enough. It felt like things were right again.

“So you talked, huh?” Yanami came up next to me, fussing with her frazzled hair.

“In a manner of speaking,” I replied. “Didn’t get to see the conclusion, really, but I think all the important stuff got said.”

Komari didn’t owe the lit club anything. That was never the case. The lit club was for Komari. That was what our senpai always wanted. It just took some time and chaos for us to fully understand what that meant, but at this point, chaos was our brand.

“I told you she’d come around. All it took was a little bit of empathy,” Yanami said.

Either my memory was selective or hers was.

“Whatever you say. Thanks, though. For real.”

Yanami raised her eyebrows at me in disbelief. But after a moment, she smiled. “Welcome. This is your charismatic consultant, Yanami-chan, signing off.”

I’d been so caught up in everything that I nearly forgot—it wasn’t just Komari. We weren’t alone. Yakishio and Yanami were a part of the lit club just as much as us. One day, they wouldn’t be. But that was to be expected. One day we’d graduate and go our separate ways, after all.

One could look at life and see an endless cycle of so-longs, goodbyes, and farewells, and you could call relationships fleeting. Insubstantial. But I didn’t like to think like that. I liked to believe there was something to be gained from it all other than sadness.

I would have continued philosophizing were it not for Yanami shoving her phone in my face.

“What?” I asked.

“This chat. You gonna let her vent all that and just not say anything? How’s that fair?”

“I did say something. What more do you want from me?”

It was a short message, but I wasn’t good at this sort of thing. What little I’d sent was more than enough to make me want to crawl into a hole.

“Oh, I didn’t realize. Lemme see.” Yanami scrolled a bit, then froze solid. “Dude.”

“What now?”

“Don’t ‘what now’ me! Explain yourself! Does this mean what I think it means?!” She shoved her phone at me again.

On it was my singular reply to a long string of messages: “You’ll always have me.”

What was wrong with that?

“I’m confused,” I said. “I just meant that I’m not planning on quitting the club anytime soon.”

“Oh.” Yanami held her head in her hands. “Oh god, he’s stupid.”

“What? Is that harassment? Oh god, am I about to be #MeToo’d?”

“I swear. That right there’s your problem, Nukumizu-kun.” Yanami shrugged and cut in between Komari and Yakishio. “Isn’t it, Komari-chan?”

“U-unfortunately, our new president isn’t too bright.”

“Better get your act together, Nukkun. Presidents gotta keep up appearances.”

Three-on-one just wasn’t fair. Oh, who was I kidding? I couldn’t win a one-on-one.

Wait, what did they just call me?

I slowly raised my hand. “Are we, um… Are we seriously rolling with me being the president?”

The girls looked at each other, then cracked up laughing. This was bullying.

Komari extricated herself from the oligarchy and stepped toward me. “I-it was your idea.”

“So, uh…”

She looked up at me, beaming far too bright for her bangs to hide. “You’re here to stay, Prez.”