Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 11 - Chapter 2

2

And so begins the all-girls battle (with boys, too).

After the light knock, we spent a moment staring at the door.

Isshiki, who’d been on her way out of the clubroom, looked at us and then back at the door again before quietly returning to her original seat. Well, it’d be awkward to walk out right then and bump into the visitor.

Eventually, animated voices sounded from the other side of the thin wall.

“It’s not like I need to ask these guys for help…”

“Come on, why not? And it’s not like I’m any good at this, either.”

The first voice beyond the door was familiar and sharp, while the second was gentle but carried some force beneath it.

Then there was another knock, slightly more rhythmic this time.

“Come in,” Yukinoshita called out.

The door opened with a mild rattle, and Ebina’s face popped in through the crack. “Hello, hellooo! Do you have some time?”

“Hina? Oh, come on in!” Yuigahama beckoned her, and Ebina nodded back.

Mm-hmm, yeah, get her in here fast, keeps the wind from blowing in. My seat is close to the door, after all…

“Pardon meee.” With that polite remark, Ebina came in, with Miura following her silently, her face turned away.

“Did you need something?” Yukinoshita asked them.

Miura looked over at Isshiki. “Why’s she here?” she mumbled reluctantly.

“Um, I’d like to ask the same thing…or, like, something.” Isshiki replied with a giggle, and Miura glared back while irritably twirling her hair.

Hmm, I dunno about this…

But Yuigahama seemed to pick up on the tension and jumped in to rescue the situation. “Oh, ummm, is it hard to talk with so many people?”

“No, it’s not that…,” Miura said, but she was still acting pretty brusque. In the current situation, we’d have a hard time getting her to talk to us.

“We can make Isshiki leave,” I said.

“Huh?! Why?!” Isshiki wailed.

Uh, I mean, it’s not like you’re a member of the club… Why are you even taking it for granted that you should be here?

Ebina interceded, patting Miura’s shoulder. “Hey now, Yumiko. Look, it all depends on how you word it. It’s okay if you don’t get into specifics. Right?”

“Yes… I’m sure some things are difficult to say… So that’s fine.” Yukinoshita’s eyes flicked toward me in a wordless question, and I nodded back.

“Well, we can just hear what she has to say, right?” I said. “And if we still don’t get what she’s saying, then we can just ask about it separately.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yuigahama agreed. “…And hey, you know, Iroha-chan’s opinion might be helpful, too.”

Isshiki was pouting again, apparently unhappy to be sidelined here, but she nodded reluctantly anyway. Yuigahama smiled, apparently relieved by her response. She was taking care to ensure both sides were happy, and I felt bad about that.

“Well, then. Let’s start over and hear what you have to say,” Yukinoshita said, bringing us back.

Miura gave Isshiki a long, hard look but then turned away, examining her hair for split ends as she spoke. “…So, like…I wanna try making chocolate myself or whatever… Um, since next year is entrance exams and stuff… You know, like a last hurrah in high school or whatever.” Miura’s voice was brimming with shyness and embarrassment, her cheeks growing redder and redder as her voice got increasingly quiet.

But there was a forlornness behind it, too—or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to.

This time next year, we wouldn’t have to come to school.

It would be right in the middle of entrance exam season—probably smack on exam day for a private university. So this was functionally the last Valentine’s Day of high school. Most likely, the Valentine’s Days in our futures would mean something completely different.

Like, once you get into university or start a career, the holiday loses a lot of its impact. I bet those wild ups and downs over whether you got chocolate vanish once you’re an adult. It’s like how when you’re little, snowfall is fun and special, and that little snow icon on the weather forecast is exciting. But now, what comes to mind is the hassle: Ugh, getting to school’s gonna be a headache or It’s so cold or I’ll get wet.

“…So, like, I guess I was just thinking I could give it a shot.” Miura twirled her hair around her finger as if trying to distract us from the pink tinge on her cheeks. As her hair swished downward, I could agree with just a bit of what she said.

Depending on how you looked at it, this was going to be the final Valentine’s Day of our lives.

But apparently, most of us couldn’t fully sympathize. Being still in her first year, it seemed Isshiki wasn’t really feeling it. She was just giving the standard “Huh, okay,” while Yukinoshita had her hand on her chin with a thoughtful hmm.

As for Yuigahama, her cheeks were puffed out in a pout. She gave Miura a bit of a reproachful look. “…But, Yumiko, you said homemade is too much.”

“…I—I mean.” That silenced Miura, and with an urk, she sneakily found something else to look at. But Yuigahama wasn’t letting her get away, and her head turned to follow Miura’s.

While Yuigahama was quietly groaning, Ebina cut in to mediate. “Come on, guys! There’s no problem, right? I think making it yourself is nice.”

“Huh? You’re doing it, too, Hina?” Blinking, Yuigahama looked at Ebina.

“Uh-huh. Well, I was thinking I might as well do it with Yumiko. If she’s learning, so can I.”

“Huh, that’s kinda surprising…”

“Is it? Look, it’s good to know this stuff if you wanna offer snacks to artists at Comiket.”

Listening to their conversation, something felt off to me. “Hmm…” …Snacks for artists, snacks, huh. Hmm? Curious, I glanced at Ebina, and she returned the look.

Her gaze seemed to be asking me if I had a problem. I responded with just a tiny shake of my head.

When you’re offering a gift or a token to someone who isn’t a friend or acquaintance, you generally shy away from homemade items. And Ebina would doubtless be aware of that. But if she was saying she wanted to learn how to make obligatory chocolate anyway, then this had to be evidence there was someone she was at least slightly interested in.

…You did it, Tobe. You’re making a tiny bit of progress. Except I don’t know if she’s actually thinking of Tobe; hell, I don’t even know who Tobe is. Who is Tobe?

A flicker of warmth had stirred in my heart when her eyebrows twitched up. Then, with a meaningful chuckle, her slash goggles—er, glasses flashed. “Homemade really is great! Hikitani, you and Hayama should share some guy chocolate, too!”

“I’m not doing that…”

Ahhh, Ebina really is Ebina, huh…in every sense. What the heck is this whole culture around friendship chocolate anyway? What is “guy chocolate” even supposed to be? Might be a good name for a cartoon character.

“But he’s not gonna accept it, remember?” I pointed out.

“You’re a guy! So you’re in the clear!”

The initial assumption here is already out of the question.

There’s no point in listening to Ebina… And Miura, who was normally responsible for keeping her in check, was just twirling her hair and pressing her lips together…

As I continued to ignore even more of Ebina’s preaching about guy chocolate or gay chocolate or whatever, off to the side, Isshiki was hnnnning as she folded her arms.

“Ah, that’s right. He’s already gone on record saying he won’t take any, so that’s gonna make it harder.”

Mm-hmm, but, uh, that’s not the issue here. Hayama and I are both boys, you know… Actually, since chocolate from a guy wouldn’t have girls attempting to settle the score with me, I feel like he’d just accept it like normal with a charming smile… Whoa, seems like there’d be another kind of scoring going on! But on that score, scoring is out of the question. Final score: 0/10. On that idea anyway.

“I wonder what I should do…,” Isshiki muttered.

“Agh… Yeah, seriously,” Miura agreed, and they both sighed in unison, then both looked up at the same time. Their gazes clashed, and I could almost hear the crackle of sparks flying.

Aw man, this is scary…

At the vending machine in front of the school store on the first floor, I clicked the MAX Coffee button.

I pulled it out and stood, then heaved a sigh.

That quiet battle crackling away between Isshiki and Miura was wearing me thin. So thin, in fact, that I was starting to wonder if that American urban legend of Slender Man was referring to me.

On the way to the washroom, I’d stopped by the vending machine, and after injecting some caffeine into my tired body, I was about to head back to the clubroom, sipping away at the Max can as I trudged up the stairs, when I caught sight of a figure lurking in front of the door.

With each fidget and glance she made, her bluish-black ponytail did a hop-hop here and a hop-hop there, here a hop, there a hop, everywhere a hop-hop.

She was acting so suspiciously, I asked almost on instinct, “…Huh? What’s up?”

Her ponytail jumped. Slowly and timidly, her face turned to me.

She was eyeing me with blatant apprehension, like a wildcat you’ve stumbled upon in the middle of the woods, and her manner gave me this knee-jerk urge to click my tongue and beckon to her with a Max can. But you’re not supposed to feed wild animals.

And you should give it a name before you feed it! Um…yeah, guess we’re good with Kawa-something, right? Heeeere, Kawa-something! I said in my mind as I asked what she was up to. “You need something?”

Kawa-something let out a relieved-sounding sigh, then beckoned me down past the clubroom, to the corner of the hallway. Oh yeah! It’s Saki Kawasaki, huh? I knew that.

While making little glances over at the clubroom, Kawasaki asked, “C-can we talk?”

“Uh, you could come in. It’s cold here.” She clearly had some kind of business with the Service Club, so frankly, I wanted to hurry into the heated clubroom.

But she paused pensively for a moment, then waved her hands. “Huh… No, here’s good! We can stay out here! Um, there was just something I kind of wanted to ask Yukinoshita…”

Uh, then ask her directly…? “Yukinoshita’s inside. Just come in. It’s chilly here—you’ll get sick.”

There must have been a window open in one of the rooms for ventilation; the special-use building was filled with icy air. It was crawling up from the floor, and the sound of rattling window glass that came with every gust of wind felt like it was carrying the cold all the way to my ears.

“I’m whatever… It’s fine, though…” Kawasaki jerked her face away.

Uh, but I’m not fine… It’d be a disaster if I caught a cold at this time of year and gave it to Komachi, and she’d have a tough time recovering.

As for how we people of Chiba get over colds, the best thing is to start with a bowl of ramen with the extra-thick broth at Naritake with extra condiments and a big blob of chopped garlic, drink a waaarm MAX Coffee, and go to bed. Then, you’ll have to go to the doctor the next day. And so I have come to believe that preventing a cold is another reason you should just stay home all the time.

Besides, Kawasaki also has someone in her family studying for exams. If Kawasaki’s little brother Taishi were to catch that cold and pass it on to Komachi, I would have to dirty my hands with blood and sin…

“Just come in already.” My hostility toward vermin like Taishi made the words come out more harshly than I intended.

Kawasaki wilted just slightly, head hanging. “I-if you’re gonna insist…”

I’m glad I have your understanding. I want to keep Komachi safe from the risk of more colds as much as possible after all.

“Well, we can’t have you getting sick,” I said as I opened the door to the clubroom and prompted Kawasaki to go inside.

She looked back at me with a dazed expression. “…O-okay,” she replied with a weakness that belied her scary appearance, then walked in with soft footsteps.

She comes off like a delinquent at first glance, but she’s just a meek, good girl, huh? I thought as I followed her.

“Welcome back, Hikki… Wait, Saki?” Yuigahama turned to me and then tilted her head curiously. Then her whole upper body tilted along with it.

All eyes in the room gathered on Kawasaki, who replied uncomfortably, “Oh, yeah…”

Yukinoshita gave her a puzzled look, while Isshiki shrank away in fright. No, no, no, Kawa-something here looks scary, but she’s a total sweetheart, all right?

Ebina, on the other hand, addressed her with energy and a smile. “Oh, it’s Saki-Saki. Hello, hello!”

“Don’t call me Saki-Saki,” Kawasaki shot back.

In an attempt to mollify her, Yuigahama brought her a chair. “We don’t see you here often, Saki… Wait, it’s your first time, huh?”

They must have become friends (or something close to it) since the school field trip, if Yuigahama was calling her Saki. I could hardly remember Saki Kawa-something’s name myself, so I was touched that someone had. My eyes teared up a little. I must be more prone to that these days; every Sunday when they’re in trouble on PreCure, just seeing the girls stand up again makes me cry. Yep, that’s me.

Yes, yes, it’s nice that the girls are getting along. It’s a lovely thing.

As this heartwarming sight left my chest all toasty in the cold, Yukinoshita was setting out tea in a paper cup. “So did you need something from us?” she asked.

“Th-thanks…um…,” Kawasaki began, but she didn’t quite seem like she’d be out with it.

Oh yeah, didn’t she say she had something to talk to Yukinoshita about? While Kawasaki was moaning and struggling to begin, I heard the tap, tap, tap of nails clicking on a desk.

Looking over, I saw a very displeased Miura there. Kawasaki didn’t seem to like her attitude, as she gave Miura an icy glare.

Miura returned in kind. “Like, I’m still not done talking, though?”

“What? You’re just drinking tea.”

I retract my previous statement. Kawasaki really is scary…

Neither Kawasaki nor Miura would yield, glaring daggers at one another. Ohhh, you two still don’t get along, huh…?

Isshiki was frozen as she watched their stare-down.

Then Ebina cut into the stalemate. “C’mon now, Yumiko, what’s the problem? You’ve got something you wanted to talk about, too, right, Saki-Saki? I can listen if you want.”

“Though we’ll be the ones helping her…,” Yukinoshita muttered.

“Anyway, just talk to us,” Ebina prompted, apparently not at all listening to Yukinoshita’s grumbling.

Kawasaki’s eyes moved between me, Yuigahama, and Yukinoshita. She let out a soft sigh before finally saying, “Um, it’s about chocolate…”

Miura snorted. “Hmph. What, you’re giving chocolate to someone, too? That’s so funny.”

“What?”

“What?”

The two of them had yet another stare-down.

“…Too?” said Kawasaki. “Can you quit projecting on me? I don’t care about that stuff like you, and I’m not interested.”

“What?”

“What?”

…Stop it! Let’s all get along!

Seeing Kawasaki and Miura, Yukinoshita sighed and shook her head with dramatic chagrin.

You’ve got a big personality, too, y’know…, I thought. Hmm, but, well, lately that jagged-hearted Yukinon-ness, sharp edges hurting everything that touched her, had also settled down.

Watching the stubborn stare-off between Miura and Kawasaki, Isshiki muttered in my direction, “You know a lot of weirdos, huh…?”

“What?”

“What?”

As the anger of both girls turned on her, Isshiki made a swift retreat behind my back. Come on, stop walking into minefields like that… This is like watching a video compilation of cats falling off things… I mean, even I’m a little scared of these two, you know!

Anyway, let’s move on. That’s the only way to quickly escape from this.

“So what was this about chocolate?” I asked.

“My sister heard about Valentine’s at preschool, and she said she wants to try making some…,” said Kawasaki. “Isn’t there, like, a kind that even small children can make?”

“Something a kid can make…” Yukinoshita nodded with a hmm.

Ebina tilted her head. “Oh? But, Saki-Saki, I thought you were good at domestic things.”

Oh yeah, I did seem to recall that Kawasaki had a lot of younger siblings and busy parents, so she often took over household responsibilities. I remembered the unexpectedly domestic picture of her carrying shopping bags with green onions poking out of them. Meaning she’d be a good cook, too, right? I thought, looking at her.

She turned away awkwardly. “…Um, the stuff I make is kind of plain. I doubt a little kid would have much fun with it.”

“By the way, may I ask what sort of things you’re good at cooking, Kawasaki?” Yukinoshita asked.

After a stretch of silence, Kawasaki said quietly and with much hesitation, “S-sweet…”

Sweet. For whatever reason, my mind first jumped to sugar decorations, but that wasn’t exactly too plain for kids to enjoy. When I was little, Komachi and I would fight over the sugar Santa on the Christmas cake… Though it didn’t take long for me to realize those things don’t actually taste great, and both of us stopped eating it, and then Dad was always in charge of its disposal.

But Kawasaki was not talking about sugar decorations. All attention was on her as we waited to hear the rest.

With everyone’s eyes on her, Kawasaki looked down like she was embarrassed and said in an extremely quiet voice, “Sweet potatoes…boiled sweet potatoes.”

…She’s right; that is bland.

Kawasaki’s specialty being basically boiled potatoes was such a bland choice, its blandness far surpassed expectations and momentarily silenced the whole clubroom. The brutal honesty of everyone’s reaction made Kawasaki a little teary-eyed. She was pretty embarrassed.

Noticing this, Yuigahama jerked her head up and put extra cheer in her voice. “It’s okay! Look, I can’t cook at all, so I’m still impressed. Right, Yukinon?” She turned the question to Yukinoshita.

Yukinoshita nodded, expression serious. “That’s right. Potato is a good name for a cat, so there is something cute to it.”

“That’s a weird way to encourage her!” Yuigahama looked at her with an expression of shock.

Indeed. That is not encouragement at all.

And what do cats have to do with baking? Well, I suppose they do like to make biscuits and turn into a loaf. But if you try to roll them out, they’ll give you a grumpy look—which is supercute. Maybe she does have a point. Still, don’t try to roll them out—a long-haired cat will wind up absorbing dust and stuff like a mop, so you need to watch out for that!

Well, never mind about cats. Right now, this is about Kawasaki. Yukinoshita’s bizarre defense must have been particularly embarrassing for Kawasaki, as she was trembling like a newly adopted kitten. I’m incredibly sorry; she just sucks at comforting people…

What I offered probably wasn’t enough to be a consolation, but I did clear my throat to say, “Well, as long as you can cook it right.”

“Agh, well, that’s true. Still, it is bland…,” Isshiki followed up, though she sounded a bit confused. But there was no edge of derision or mockery there.

“Yeah, it’s cool! It’s your thing, Saki-Saki!” Ebina stuck up her thumbs with an Ebi-Ebi smile.

The compliments must have made Kawasaki uncomfortable in another way, as now she was fidgeting and twisting around. And then she froze. Following her gaze, I saw her attention was on Miura. Apparently, she was worried what her recent opponent would say.

But Miura just gave Kawasaki a long look, then turned away in disinterest. She didn’t even appear to be talking to her as she said, “Didn’t know you could cook.”

“Huh? Oh, um, well…”

“Hmm…” Though she was twirling her hair around her fingertip, there was some respect in her tone. Well, Miura can’t cook herself, far as I can tell… Someone as feminine as her might admire those skills.

“If you have basic cooking ability, Kawasaki, then if we just gave you a menu to work with, you could take care of the rest, right?” After pondering the matter, Yukinoshita put a hand to her chin and tilted her head.

“M-me too! I want to learn, too! If a little kid can do it, I can, too!” Yuigahama flung her hand up.

But Yukinoshita lowered her gaze sadly. “…I don’t know about that.”

“C’mon, Yukinon, can’t you spare my feelings a little?!”

“I mean, she’s not saying it’s impossible. I think she was sparing your feelings,” I said.

“Just how useless do you think I am?!”

You’re not very self-aware…

With Yuigahama, I feel like the problem isn’t so much her choice of menu or cooking style as it is her useless attempts to add extra flavor or tweaks. Way back when she and Yukinoshita cooked together, I seem to recall it turned out fairly edible in the end after all. Not to say there’s no issues with Yukinoshita’s teaching methods…

It seemed Miura and Ebina had gotten tired of discussing Kawasaki’s issue. “Hey, weren’t we talking about me?” Miura interjected with a pout.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget about us!” Ebina pouted along with her.

Isshiki also popped up a dainty hand. “Oh, then I’d like to join in, too, just for reference.”

Yukinoshita breathed a little sigh. “I don’t mind…,” she said, then glanced over at me.

“…Well, we can just say we’ll think about it, right?” I said. “They’ll be doing the actual work themselves.”

“Of course… All right. I’m going to get together what we need, so if you could allow me a little time…,” Yukinoshita said with a look at Miura, Ebina, and Kawasaki in turn, and the three girls all nodded back at her in unison.

Miura and the others had left a little while ago. In the now finally peaceful clubroom, Yukinoshita quietly sighed. “Today has been rather exhausting…”

As we brought our new cups of black tea to our lips, we sighed, too. We’d gotten an unusual number of visitors. Three in one day—no, four, if you included Isshiki—may have been a new record.

Compared with how it had been before, we were doing brisk business.

This room had hardly anything—it was basically just a closet, and I’d thought it was too big—but there was actually some life in it now. Though the once-scattered chairs were all pointed in different directions, they’d come to draw a wobbly sort of ring around the long table in the middle where the tea set was.

The clubroom had changed a lot since then.

The heater on low, the tea set and the blanket, and the stack of paperback books. The number of chairs and their positions. The amount of sunlight slanting in, and the coats hanging on the wall.

The cold, late-spring colors of this room had turned to warmer hues without my realizing it.

I couldn’t say if this was because of the changing of seasons or something else. The air here seemed to lull you to sleep, and my eyes wandered out the window.

The weather report had said there was a big cold front or something coming in a few days, and the wind was blowing hard again that day.

Even with the girls’ chatter over it, I could clearly hear the rattling and creaking of the window glass. And soon another sound joined it—the loud scrape of the door sliding open, followed by a loud yell.

“Isshiki!”

“Hyerk!”

Isshiki flinched, and then she looked over toward the door with intense trepidation. There, Miss Hiratsuka was looming intimidatingly, scowling and angry.

“Miss Hiratsuka, please knock…,” Yukinoshita said with a sigh, pressing her temple.

“Oh, my bad. I was in a bit of a rush,” Miss Hiratsuka answered with a quirk of a smile as she strode briskly into the clubroom. “…Isshiki.” Going to stand beside the student council president, she folded her arms in a forbidding manner. “What happened to your work?”

“Uhhhh…” Isshiki was at a loss for words, her eyes swimming around. And then her wandering gaze met with mine.

“Hey, didn’t you say you didn’t have anything to do?” I asked.

Isshiki primly turned away and sulked. “…I don’t.”

Miss Hiratsuka breathed an exaggerated sigh. “It’s true that student council business is going smoothly, but you have other work to do. I told you to come up with a farewell address for the graduation ceremony and bring it to me, didn’t I?”

The graduation ceremony… Is it already that time? I thought. But the ceremony was supposed to be at the start of the second week of March. Wasn’t there still time?

Apparently, Isshiki was of the same mind, as she made a cute ah-ha-ha   oh nooo! sort of laugh. “B-but we have still a month…”

“You fool! That carelessness will be your downfall!” Miss Hiratsuka warned her severely, but Isshiki just shrugged.

Indeed. Don’t assume you have a month—no, no.

This is true with work, summer vacation, or anything else. The moment you think you have time, that’s right when you lose any buffer you had.

As the saying goes, time and tide wait for no man. You’ll be thinking, We can still save it, we can still save it, we can save it save it please don’t make us corporate slave it! when you wind up in a situation where you definitely cannot save it—it’s a rare occurrence that often happens.

Why must deadlines come so quickly?

“I mean, when we’re in February, you can’t say we have one month. There’s fewer days in the month, and with entrance exams and whatnot on top of that, the staff won’t have time, either. February schedules are extra tight,” Miss Hiratsuka said flatly.

“Yes! I’ll do it! I’ll do my best! I’ll manage! That’s why I’ve come here to consult them about it! I’ve come here to ask about last year!” Isshiki answered with wonderful enthusiasm.

But, uh, don’t I recall that you came here to ask about chocolate…?

Not like it’s important, but there are no words less trustworthy than I’ll do my best or I’ll manage.

You must not believe a corporate slave when they say either of those things. Source: my dad. He says that stuff a lot when he’s taking work calls at home, but then after he hangs up, he’s like, “That’s impossible, jackass!”

Of course, Miss Hiratsuka also saw right through Isshiki’s foolish response, combing back her long hair uneasily as her expression turned grim. “Listen, you can’t be like that. You have to be fully independent next year. You can’t be getting help from your elders forever, all right?”

Yukinoshita, cup still in hand, nodded in agreement. “Of course.”

“Hmm, I think it’ll be tough… But she is the president…” Yuigahama gave Isshiki a troubled smile.

In search of allies, Isshiki inched her chair over to me. With moist and trusting eyes, she came to tug at my sleeve.

I really am weak to people who make requests of me like that.

Komachi often tries to use tears to get her way when she’s in trouble, but an elite big brother of my level will side with a little sister basically unconditionally. It’s just what’s expected of a big brother who wouldn’t mind destroying a world or two for his little sister’s sake.

I have no choice. I’ll talk my way out of this somehow and fix this for her…, I thought, opening my mouth.

But Yukinoshita cut me off. “Hikigaya, don’t indulge her.”

“I mean, but she is saying she basically came here asking for help…,” I said.

Isshiki leaned forward. “Yeah! You listened to the others who came here for help, riiight?”

“But I feel like Iroha-chan’s thing is a little different from Yumiko’s and Saki’s…” Yuigahama seemed to worry over it with a little hmm.

Miss Hiratsuka blinked. “Oh, there were others here asking for advice?”

“Yep!” Isshiki piped up. “There were! A bunch of them, actually, so I was also helping with that, kinda…”

“That’s not your job.” Miss Hiratsuka instantly shot her down, and Isshiki gritted her teeth.

“Urk.”

Isshiki, you fool. If you’re going to avoid a Miss Hiratsuka interrogation, there’s no use in trying to say the right thing flat-out. No matter how you think about it, what Miss Hiratsuka says is going to be even more flat-out right. I’d even say there’s nothing flat-out right about Isshiki. Just flat—well, that’s not technically true. But maybe a little. Really, the “just flat” is a certain Miss Someone-else-shita.

At the end of the day, a sound argument is a weapon to be used against other people, not something to listen to. Therefore, the correct choice is to ignore it or deflect.

Let me show you how it’s done…

“Well, um,” I began, “they came for advice on girl stuff, so of course, it’s best to have more girls. Not like I’d know. It’s just, with Valentine’s Day coming up and all.”

Valentine’s Day. When I used those magic words, Miss Hiratsuka froze on the spot. Then her eyes turned to the window, suddenly distant. “I see—Valentine’s Day, eh…? Ah, memories…”

With a mildly self-deprecating sigh, the teacher finally turned her gaze back to us. She gave us a long look, then quietly repeated once more, “Valentine’s Day, eh?” The earlier humor in her tone was all gone, replaced by a touch of sorrow.

Clearing her throat and checking her voice, Miss Hiratsuka started over. “If you’ve had a rush of consults, then the matter of the farewell address can wait a bit. Couldn’t hurt to have Isshiki help you from time to time.”

“Uh, well, we don’t really need her, though…,” I said.

“Hey, rude!” Isshiki spun around to shoot me an indignant look, but I stared back at her icily. I mean, you just increase our workload…

Then Yuigahama came in to mediate. “H-hey, now… It’s okay. If she can help us, then that’ll be good for us, too…”

“Will it, though?”

“Come on, what do you take me for…?” Isshiki grumbled at me, but I ignored her and looked at Yukinoshita.

“If Yuigahama is all right with it, then I don’t mind…,” Yukinoshita said.

Miss Hiratsuka clapped her hands sharply. “Then it’s settled. Isshiki can work on the farewell address on her own. Besides, everyone is counting on you guys now. I’d say that’s a ringing endorsement of everything this club has done this year.”

“You sure we’re not just being treated like the errand club…?” I asked.

It was true there were a lot more people coming to us for help than before. That also meant our workload had increased considerably. The problem was that we were getting nothing out of it. This was way worse than unpaid overtime. What is this? Is this like overtime under the white-collar exemption? I’ve been gaining so many service skills, I could hold my own working at some exploitative sweatshop of an office job.

Miss Hiratsuka’s response to my remark was a glare, then a wink. “But you’re still helping people. Having someone there to give you a little push from behind is very important. It’s not a bad thing for Isshiki to take that on as well.”

“Yeah, I’ll learn from their example!” Isshiki’s response was positively full of energy, but I could hear her thoughts behind the blatantly self-satisfied smile: Yaaay, I got a deadline extension.

“…Although you’re rubbing off on her in the worst ways. Anyway, make sure to get this done.” And with that, Miss Hiratsuka smiled wryly, gave Isshiki a gentle pat on the head, then fluttered her hand in a wave as she left the clubroom.

We all watched her go, then breathed little sighs.

“Now we have a problem…,” Yukinoshita muttered, arms folded.

Then Isshiki, whose arms were also crossed, sighed gravely. “Definitely. Miura’s starting to get serious.”

“I meant the number of requests…”

“Ha-ha,” Yuigahama said, watching their exchange with a forced smile. “But you know, I can kind of understand Hayato’s feelings…”

Hayama’s feelings? Where’d that come from…? With a look, I asked what she meant.

Yuigahama seemed to be thinking aloud as she answered. “Oh, you know…it’s like, um… Maybe he’s trying to take a lot of things into account, like not accepting chocolates openly and stuff…” That was a very Yuigahama way of showing consideration.

Listening, Isshiki also nodded. “Oh, that’s kinda like you, Yui. Like, you’re so nice.”

“Oh…you think…? Ah-ha-ha… Like me, huh…?” Yuigahama laughed with some embarrassment, and then her expression wilted slightly.

I don’t think receiving a compliment had embarrassed her. Maybe it was just because of the suffocating feeling that comes from being kind and considerate—just like Hayato Hayama. When you think about it, Yuigahama is friends with Hayama, Miura, and Isshiki. She’s struggled before, like when she was stuck between them that time at Destiny Land, and she was an immediate witness to it again now.

It’d be a lot easier if I could just be like, Man, that sucks, I’m sorry… But I couldn’t be so callous and distant from this.

The desire to keep a close eye on all the social relationships around you is hard to understand. But I can sympathize with it—with the feelings that lead you to that conclusion, at any rate.

Yukinoshita is probably the same. I could see the concern on her face as Yuigahama turned glum.

For example, if you’re able to come up with a solution like Hayama’s, it might all come undone somewhere along the line.

Of his own will, he chooses to be the Hayato Hayama everyone desires, to play his part perfectly.

He uncompromisingly makes the highest grade of compromise; he pours his body and soul into putting them both on life support.

There can surely be no insincerity as sincere as that.

There isn’t much the unkind can do for the sake of such “kind” people—at most, you can just quietly grumble the same old complaints to yourself.

“…Well, then you just have to have an excuse, right? One that would satisfy Hayama,” I said.

“Hmmm?” Isshiki tilted her head so hard her whole upper body went with it. She had no idea what I was getting at.

That gesture is very cute, but it’s an irritating response, Isshiki…

“Like a situation where the most natural thing would be for him to take it; then he’ll accept it, maybe,” I rephrased myself.

Isshiki was mushing her lips together with this skeptical look like maybe she got it, and maybe she didn’t.

Then Yukinoshita put her cup down with a clink and turned her quiet eyes to me. “In other words, you mean it will work as long as you have an excuse?” Yukinoshita enunciated the word in English. “Yes, if you were to give him chocolates in a somewhat closed environment, then Hayama could avoid dealing with any disputes.”

“Yeah, closed, that,” I said. I didn’t care if it was Crows or Worst or QP or what, but basically, we just had to create a situation where Hayama wouldn’t have to be concerned about people watching, where it wouldn’t damage his public image.

But still, Isshiki and Yuigahama both had question marks over their heads, like this didn’t make sense to them. Yuigahama in particular seemed confused by the English. “Closet…?”

What the heck is a closet environment? Doraemon’s living space?

“Like for example…,” I said. “If you say it’s not for Valentine’s but you ask him to try taste-testing it, then Hayama’ll have some. Probably. Not like I know.”

“…Ohhh, so then we just have to make them together?” Yuigahama murmured with a deep sigh. Something resembling relief flickered across her face.

Mm-hmm. I’m relieved, too, that you got my drift.

“Well, yeah. If Isshiki, Miura, and Hayama are all cooking together and they tell him to try some, then it’d be hard for him to say no.” Though in this case, with Miura and Isshiki feeding him chocolate, he might be biting off more than he can chew…

When I looked over at the three girls for a response to my suggestion, the most suspicious of the crew voiced an admiring ohhh.

“I see… I think I get it! Sooo I just have to drag him somewhere away from anyone who could get in my way.”

“Yes, but maybe watch how you word it,” I chided Isshiki.

Yukinoshita giggled. “But that’s the most important point. You really are a genius when it comes to avoiding attention and pulling dastardly tricks.”

“Yeah, you watch how you word things, too, okay?” Sometimes it’s worth considering positive reinforcement, I was thinking, when Yuigahama suddenly slapped her knee and surged to her feet.

“So then let’s all do it together! Like with us, too.”

“…Indeed,” Yukinoshita agreed. “If I can teach everyone on the spot, then I won’t have to come up with a menu suggestion for each individual, too.”

“Ohhh, that’s a great idea. Gathering up everyone who came here with requests to do sort of an event thing and, like, kinda teach each other. So then, we can get you to teach us, right, Yukinoshita?” Isshiki inched her whole chair up to Yukinoshita’s side.

Yukinoshita was pondering and hmming when Isshiki took her hand and squeezed it, tilted her head, and gave her a wheedling, coquettish smile.

“Y-yes… I wouldn’t mind that, I suppose…”

This was Yukinoshita, who we’re all familiar with for being incredibly weak to physical contact and intimacy. And if you’re sincerely asking for her help, too, she’ll instantly crumble. Even if Isshiki’s body language wasn’t cultivated as naturally as Yuigahama’s, it was still highly effective on Yukinoshita.

Yukinoshita cleared her throat lightly, then glanced over questioningly at me. “I think if I’m just helping, that would be fine, but…what do you think?”

“Uh, don’t ask me… I mean, you’ll be the one teaching them, so if that’s easier for you, then sure.” And besides, Yuigahama was excited about it, too, so there was no reason to refuse at this point.

“I see. Well then, we have to figure out what this will be so that we can begin making arrangements…” Yukinoshita put her hand to her chin and started to think.

Then Isshiki, sitting beside her, suddenly dialed someone on her phone. “Oh, Vice President. I’m ordering you to submit a proposal. Something like Cooking class event! …What? Uh, yeah anyhoo, just get this green-lit, book the venue, and type up the notice, ’kay?”

The voice I could hear faintly coming from the receiver did not sound happy about this, but Isshiki started giving orders in a low voice with added tongue clicking. But anyway, “get it green-lit and book the venue…”? She isn’t gonna start saying things like We’ve got to double-time it, or they’ll be booked out! soon, is she?

“Hey, hey, Yukinon, what about meee?” Yuigahama’s chair scraped as she came up to Yukinoshita’s side, too, examining her face.

Yukinoshita paused a moment to consider. “As for you…” Then she laid a heavy hand on Yuigahama’s shoulder and said gently, as if speaking to a small child, “Let’s have you do it with me.”

“You don’t trust me at all?! Urk… Oh, then…what about Hikki?” She spun around to ask me.

But I doubted there was much I could do to help here. “I can’t cook or anything,” I answered.

Yukinoshita laughed a little. “I don’t mind. You can just taste-test and offer your opinion.”

I’d heard those words at some point before. But the tone and sound of her voice were different from that time. Yuigahama, sitting beside her, seemed to remember something, and she smothered a giggle.

“…Leave that to me; it’s my specialty,” I said, while thinking back on what I’d answered that time. The three of us just sort of exchanged looks, then broke into chuckles.

Isshiki, still on the phone, must have been curious about our quiet snickers, as her gaze shifted over to us. Why’re you laughing? she asked with her eyes, which I answered with a It’s nothing shake of my head.

There’s no point in explaining something like this. Some things you understand because you’ve spent the time together, shared enough memories, and found the significance of it.

My gesture made Isshiki a little skeptical, but eventually, it seemed her discussion with the vice president was settled, and she moved to end it. “Yep, yeeeep, yeeep, thanks very much.”

It sounded like the vice president was complaining on the other end, but Isshiki ignored him and hung up. The call done, she rose to her feet.

“Right, the student council will handle the details, so you handle the cooking class.” She muttered quietly, “Since I did barge in on you,” and gave us a snappy salute, then made to leave. She was probably headed off to start arranging for said cooking class.

There was nothing in her manner that seemed unreliable, like before.

She was a bit forceful in her methods, but I figured this was another kind of growth for Isshiki. Well, maybe growth was a little strong, but she’d learned how to manage. She was treating the vice president the same way she did Tobe, after all…

“Then we’ll be counting on you, Isshiki,” said Yukinoshita.

“Yeah! Let’s do our best, Iroha-chan!” Yuigahama added.

When Isshiki bobbed her head in a bow at the door, Yukinoshita gave a genuine, kind smile, while Yuigahama cheerily raised a hand. I nodded back at Isshiki and saw her off.

As I watched Isshiki quietly slide the door to the clubroom shut, the thought hit me.

…Huh, she’s actually doing her job this time, so there’s nothing much for me to do. When she’s not being a handful anymore, I almost feel left out.