Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 12 - Chapter 2

2

Despite appearances, Haruno Yukinoshita is not drunk.

I’d come here before.

Two tall apartment buildings, similar as twins. In one was the apartment where Yukinoshita lived, on an upper floor.

The last time I’d come over to her place had been during the cultural festival, when she’d worked herself sick and taken time off school. She’d been all alone in that apartment then. And that was when Yuigahama and I had gone over.

I hadn’t come since then.

But Yuigahama must have visited her a whole bunch of times before and after that. Maybe she was familiar with the place. She seemed completely at ease, even after she walked inside the automatic doors at the entrance to stand beside Yukinoshita.

I just couldn’t settle down, though; I kept fidgeting and trying to find something to look at. Um, I mean, it’s normal to get nervous at a girl’s place… And we’re still just in the lobby! With this level of intimidation by proximity, a girl’s home is a dangerous place. This was way too “final dungeon” for me, and I think it’s wrong to pick up girls in a place like that.

The apartment vestibule was empty and hushed. If I were Basho, I’d even be seeping into stone. What’s with this guy Basho—is he Angelo or what?

All I heard was breathing and a hesitant sigh. The automatic doors to the apartment lobby were also closed. The frosted glass of the doors was fairly opaque, decorated with orange plywood that matched the exterior of the building.

When I glanced at the doors, Yukinoshita pulled a key from her bag. But she didn’t stick it into the door phone. She just clinked her keys a few times. Yukinoshita lived here alone, so there shouldn’t have been anything to hesitate over. But there were others in her territory now.

I didn’t know what had led to Yukinoshita getting a solo apartment. I’d had opportunities to ask before, but I’d never taken that step and asked. I probably wouldn’t force the question in the future, either.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested—I think it was something else I was lacking. To put it plainly, the problem was that I didn’t know how or when to ask.

I’ve always felt something like fear about accidentally stumbling across something private. You never know where a land mine like that might be.

I know from experience that the most innocuous remark could hurt someone deeply. For example, getting asked in a job interview, Do you have a girlfriend? Even if there’s no malice intended, the phrasing or the timing can hit pretty hard. Ohhh, here I am again, talking about myself… Well, who cares about me? Basically, there’s always a risk in touching on information that hasn’t been disclosed.

But right now, there was one thing I could ask her. If it was information we shared, then I could use that as the bridge to a conversation.

“…Is she still here?” I asked.

“…Most likely.”

She knew what I meant, even if I didn’t expressly state her name. Haruno Yukinoshita had definitely said she’d be waiting in this apartment.

Yukinoshita answered with a slightly weak smile, then jingled the keys in her hands. It seemed she’d come to a decision. Finally, she stuck them into the keyhole in the intercom.

But before she could turn the key, the automatic doors slid soundlessly open.

“Ohhh, if it isn’t Yukino-chan!” We heard a sudden bouncy call, followed by light footsteps.

Through the open doors was Haruno Yukinoshita. The shine slanting in from the lobby was just like a spotlight on her.

“…Haruno.”

One face was blank and startled, while the other expressed open-mouthed surprise.

I was reminded then that they were sisters, and they looked a lot alike. Oh, I’d been fully aware that they shared similar features—even setting aside my own opinions, tastes, and preferences, they were conventionally beautiful sisters with quite a bit in common. It’s just that I normally got such a different impression from each of them; I personally found them each beautiful in her own way.

But in that moment, they honestly appeared so alike to me, that usual impression was overwhelmed. Those blinking, startled faces were like opposing mirrors.

But the reflection was quickly shattered.

“Welcome hooome!” Haruno patted Yukinoshita’s shoulder with too much cheer, her expression far softer than usual. Maybe that was what did it.

She wasn’t dressed as fashionably as usual, but all fluffy, puffy, and soft. This was probably her at-home wear. She wore a light coat slung over her shoulders and sandals on her feet. She looked homey. I could almost hear the Just popping out for a bit!

And there was a moist shine to her hair, a flushed redness to her cheeks. Her big eyes normally seemed sharp, but right now, they were kind of drowsy.

Yukinoshita also apparently noticed the differences, as she scowled in suspicion. “…Have you been drinking?”

“Well, yeah. Just a bit.” Haruno gestured with a thumb and index finger pinching at the air. The soft smile on her lips belied that gesture. She must have drunk quite a lot. Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and I all stared back at her, unimpressed.

Of course, that made Haruno feel awkward, and with a quiet clearing of her throat, she said, “More importantly, if you’re back, then…”

“…Yes. I have something to talk to you about,” Yukinoshita said, finishing her sentence. There was nothing nervous or stiff about her expression.

Picking up on that, Haruno let out a little huff. “Hmm.” After that brief, disinterested reply, she looked at the elevator, which had already risen upward. “…Anyway, are you guys coming up? We’re not going to stand around talking out here.”

“Oh, uh, we’re totally going home. We were just walking her back anyway,” I replied, a little confused by her unexpected offer.

It seemed Yuigahama felt the same. “Y-yeah…and weren’t you just heading out?” This issue was really personal, and we obviously couldn’t just barge in like that.

But Haruno ignored our reactions, nudging Yuigahama in the back. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I was just thinking I’d pop out to the corner store.”

“U-um…,” I said uncomfortably, but if she was gonna poke and prod, I’d have no choice but to move my feet along. With a put-upon sigh, Yukinoshita also wound up following Haruno and Yuigahama into the lobby.

Until the elevator came, Haruno hummed and mashed the button. Uhhh, pressing it again isn’t gonna make it come faster… Actually, it might even cancel some elevators.

The behavior was more childish than the Haruno I knew. I’d always assumed she could take her alcohol, so it was surprising to see her swaying around.

We got on when the elevator finally came back, but the small space was a bit uncomfortable. Haruno seemed to be the only one enjoying herself, while the rest of us kept our eyes on the numbers shifting on the display. Both the silence and gravity were heavily weighing on my shoulders.

The awkwardness must have bothered Yuigahama, as she tried talking to Haruno. “Were you drinking at home?”

“Hmm? No, no. I was out drinking. So I took a shower to clear my head…but then don’t you always want something sweet after drinking?” Haruno looked over at me. Right?

“Uh, I don’t know…,” I replied. Why’re you asking me? We’re minors, you know…

Haruno must have realized that as well, tilting her head with a hmm. “Ohhh. Well, you guys’ll find out once you start drinking.”

“Whoa… Why’re you talking like an obnoxious college kid?”

“Ohhh, lookit you being cheeky,” Haruno said, pinching my ear. It was still recovering from the numbness of the cold, and this wasn’t helping.

N-nuu! My ears are sensitive!

On top of that, there was the faint trace of alcohol on her breath and the really nice scent of her shampoo. It was real bad. Why do such nice smells linger inside an elevator?

“You’ll want to drink, and you’ll want to have sweets,” she murmured. The sound was so quiet, it was as if she didn’t care if anyone heard or not. There was no time to worry about replying, as the elevator arrived at the floor where Yukinoshita’s apartment was.

Yukinoshita slowly turned the doorknob, and we entered through the doorway of her apartment.

This was probably a three-bedroom unit. When we’d come before, I’d only ever ventured as far as the living room, but it was fairly spacious, and I remembered seeing from the hallway a door that probably went to the master bedroom.

But something felt different compared with the last time we’d been here.

From the doorway to the hall, and all the way to the living room, everything was perfectly clean and organized; the furniture hadn’t changed, either.

Only Yukinoshita seemed to notice what lay behind this feeling of something out of place.

She glanced over to the sideboard beside the sofa, and I spotted something like fried pasta there. There had been something similar in Yuigahama’s room. I seemed to recall the general term for this was diffuser.

Getting another close look at this thing, I realized it was a wooden stick like a Pretz stuck up in a bottle. Huh, I thought. Examining it, I saw that some kind of liquid solution filled up the bottom of the bottle. This would be the source of the smell, while the dried pasta sucked it up to disperse it…or something, I guess?

The wafting fragrance had floral notes. It was sweet and perky, but it also gave off a certain sense of elegance.

But this scent should have been calming, and right now, it made me more restless and unsure. The newness of it, the incongruity, bothered me. Its air spoke of the influence of another. Haruno Yukinoshita’s presence had left its faint impression.

Oh, so this is what felt out of place.

This scent wasn’t really Yukinoshita, and that was what got under my skin. Haruno had probably been the one to bring it over. If I were to make my own assumptions about Yukinoshita, I’d say mint or soap, something clean and fresh, would be more like her.

And Yukinoshita herself was frowning, so this floral fragrance probably wasn’t to her taste. She glanced at the air freshener like a cat whose territory has been invaded, but instead of saying anything, she circled around to the kitchen and started to boil water. Maybe she was making tea for us guests.

Despite Yukinoshita’s apparent displeasure, Haruno was quite chipper. Humming, she opened the fridge to grab a bottle and a champagne glass, then cheerfully skipped over to dive into the sofa and flop down there. She set the bottle and glass on the side table and flung out her long legs in their fluffy shorts, stretching in a relaxed and comfy way.

I felt my eyes being tugged toward her lazy sprawl, but I yanked them away. As my gaze idly wandered around, Haruno waved her hand like she was beckoning to us. “Well, sit wherever.”

“Why are you telling them what to do?” With an exasperated sigh, Yukinoshita returned to the living room and set the tea she carried onto the low table.

There were four cups on the tray, and the way they were positioned told us basically where to sit. Haruno reached out to the cup placed in front of her as well, took a big gulp, and let out a satisfied pwahh, then poured champagne into her glass.

Yuigahama watched her with deep interest. “Is that…wine? Do you drink it a lot?”

“I drink anything. Beer, wine, sake, Shaoxing wine, and whiskey.”

“Ohhh! Neat. It’s kinda cool to know a lot about alcohol!” Yuigahama said.

Haruno giggled. “I don’t know anything about alcohol. Go to a decent enough bar, and basically everything there will be good. I just tell them what I like and what I’m in the mood for and leave it to them.”

What the heck? That actually makes her seem like a connoisseur…

It’s like, you know, it’s so pretentious when people break into a long-winded explanation. It’s ridiculously obnoxious when college kids who’ve only just learned about alcohol will bring up names like Mori Izou or Maou or Dassai or whatever to show off. So compared with that, you could say Haruno’s method of choosing alcohol was clever.

People who effusively bestow their knowledge in an endless lecture while they drink sure are annoying, huh? Like those types who will gush about Belgian beer and trash Japanese dry beer. Symptoms such as these, common in people in their second year of adulthood, are known as A-2 syndrome! Why is it that we boys get this urge to share knowledge nobody’s asked for…? What can you do? That’s just how we show dominance.

But it’s a little sad to be lacking in any knowledge at all. For example…

“Oh! You’re a sommelier!”

“Don’t blurt out words when you don’t really know what they mean…”

I’m also kinda iffy about girls like Gahama-chan, with her wide eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and her nonexistent vocabulary skills. The vocabulary of young people these days is at whoa levels of whoa, I mean, like, dude, it’s seriously whoa. Just unbelievably whoa.

But you can’t underestimate the effects of alcohol, either. I mean, some people will go on about how sharing drinks brings you together, so I can acknowledge a certain utility there. For example, even if you really run your mouth and say something stupid, you’ll often be safe as long as you blame the alcohol. But not always. Since the one who heard it is never going to forget it.

All that aside—right here and now, it was clear that Haruno being drunk had lowered the barriers to contact. Yuigahama felt more at ease about approaching her, too, judging by the way she was acting friendlier with Haruno.

With a swirl of her champagne glass, Haruno inhaled the aroma, then tossed it back. The gesture suited her.

Yuigahama sighed. “Wow, that’s kinda cool…”

“…Is it?”

Well, Haruno is a cool person, but I dunno if it’s a good idea to praise this without reservation… If drinking alcohol is cool, then that means the old guys who gather around the Nakayama racetrack who have no front teeth are also cool, right? And the uncles day drinking in Koiwa and Kasai are hotties as well, right?

But I doubt Yuigahama was imagining such deplorable adults with bad drinking habits; she was looking at Haruno with respect. “Like, women who drink are so cool!”

“You drop that idea right now…,” I grumbled. Geez! It makes me real worried when you talk like that! You’d better pick a decent club when you’re in university! Promise Big Bro!

But I kind of understand what Yuigahama meant by it. All of us probably do appreciate grown-up things in some way or another.

Maybe we just admire things like alcohol and cigarettes because society says that they’re only for adults to enjoy. By acquiring such items, you can feel that sense of maturity. The image provides instant validation.

But if you have someone in your life with bad drinking habits, you won’t really feel that way… Like at my house, when my dad will come back dead drunk, or when I’m told that he tends to strip when he’s out drinking with clients, it feels like…you know.

As I was thinking, a dry sigh slipped out of me.

And I wasn’t the only one. When I looked over, I saw Yukinoshita must have visited the kitchen a second time, as she was back with a plastic bottle of mineral water. She handed it to Haruno, holding out her other hand to trade it for the champagne bottle. “Drinking isn’t cool in and of itself—the dignified way to enjoy it is with moderation and good sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, like me.” Haruno chuckled smugly, hugging the bottle tight and refusing to hand it over.

Yukinoshita put her hand on her hip with exasperation. “You’re still going to drink?”

“Some days, you want to drink. Besides, alcohol is the lubricant of life.”

“…I believe it’s more often a source of trouble.”

Yeah, yeah, nothing good will be called a lubricant. Like with interviews or job hunts, if you’re comparing yourself to something and bring up lubricant, you’ll never get hired. Society wants the cogs!

But sometimes there are certain people—those who are as slippery as lubricant or who will smoothly deflect whatever they want.

And Haruno was fluently evading Yukinoshita’s nagging with her devil-may-care attitude and another mouthful of champagne. “I’m fine—I’ll still be listening to you,” she said with a clear, calm tone. She didn’t sound drunk at all.

Yukinoshita seemed to recognize that, too. She withdrew the plastic bottle Haruno had rejected and offered a thin smile instead. “…You wouldn’t have seriously listened while sober anyway.”

“You got it!” Haruno spun her glass around jokingly, then looked at Yukinoshita through its thin lens. Even the filter of its pale golden color did not soften the sharpness of her eyes.

“So? What did you want to talk about?” Haruno asked casually. Her slim finger flicked the edge of the glass. The ring was quiet and beautiful, but with a chill that reminded me of treading on thin ice. All that followed was the sound of the bubbles slowly fizzing, like whispers.

It was only the slightest moment before all the sounds faded out. No new ones could intervene. All Yuigahama and I could get out were choked sighs.

I remembered what Yukinoshita had said—that she wanted us to watch. So I didn’t say anything, not even a single word. I was just waiting for her to speak as my eyes wandered around. Even when our gazes unexpectedly met, I tore mine away, until it eventually landed on Yukinoshita’s lips.

All the while, Yukinoshita was silent under Haruno’s gaze. She cautiously, thoughtfully opened her mouth, then closed it. It was such a small movement, I couldn’t tell if she’d inhaled or exhaled.

But that was the only time she showed anything like hesitation.

A faint smile came to her lips as they pressed tight for just a moment, then slowly opened. “About us… About where we’re going.” Her voice was dignified and crisp—not at all loud, and yet it seemed to echo through the whole room. Or was it the look in her eyes making me think that? She was gazing straight ahead, never looking away. Maybe that was why it left such an impression.

Even Haruno was no exception. “You’ll tell me about that, too?”

“I will… Because this is about you and me, and Mother.”

Haruno didn’t seem to like that, narrowing her eyes and cocking her head an inch. She paused for a few seconds to contemplate this, but eventually she seemed to understand. She shrugged in disappointment. “…Oh. Doesn’t sound like what I wanted to hear.” Then she sighed and slid her gaze over. “Right?” The one she was asking for agreement was Yuigahama, who froze.

But Yukinoshita leaned forward, blocking Haruno off. “I want you to listen anyway.” There was a strong will in her voice. Her tone was no different from normal, and neither was her volume or tempo.

That was how you could hear her determination.

There was no uncertainty or hesitation in Yukino Yukinoshita’s words, and certainly nothing wrong, either. Haruno was clearly shaken.

She’d been leaning on her elbow on the sofa the whole time, but now she slowly raised herself up from her reclined position and set the champagne glass in her hand on the side table. With that gesture, she prompted Yukinoshita to continue.

“So I’m going back home. I want to have a proper discussion with Mother about my hopes for the future. Even if she says no, I don’t want to regret anything.” Yukinoshita broke off.

Her long eyelashes quietly lowered, and she let out a shaky breath. Her narrow shoulders trembled, letting her long, glossy black hair fall to hide her face.

Her expression now unknowable, Yukinoshita continued. “I want to…put at least one thing into words. I need that closure,” she said, then combed back her hair. A small, peaceful smile rose on her fair, delicate face.

I swallowed, seeing that expression. I think Yuigahama did, too.

Yukinoshita’s bearing was just that beautiful. Her clear, pale eyes showed vivid determination, her smile shy, her cheeks dusted pink.

Maybe that was why none of us could formulate a response.

Just one of us—Haruno—let out a tiny breath like a sigh.

I looked over at the source of the sound, and my breath caught again. There, I saw an expression much resembling Yukinoshita’s. That smile was beguiling, kind, and soft—but somehow cold.

“I see. So that’s your answer, Yukino-chan,” Haruno said gently, a kind of tenderness crossing her face, and Yukinoshita nodded back at her without a word.

But Haruno’s gaze remained cold as she silently evaluated her for a while. But when she saw that Yukinoshita’s stance wouldn’t budge an inch, she let out a short sigh. “Oh well. I guess you’ve improved somewhat,” she said, more to herself than anyone, returning to her aloof manner once more as she reached out for her glass. She tossed back her remaining champagne in one go and lowered her gaze to the empty glass in her hand.

I couldn’t know what she saw reflected in that warped glass. A single droplet trailed down from the rim. She watched it with satisfaction, then gave a little nod. “I get what you want to say. If you’re serious, then I’ll help you out.”

“…You’ll help?” That word seemed to bother Yukinoshita, and she gave her sister a dubious look.

Haruno grinned back at her. “Yep.” Her affirmative reply was straightforward and brief, but Yukinoshita did not appear relieved.

I wasn’t, either. I knew a thing or two about Haruno Yukinoshita, including that I couldn’t take her words at face value. So even knowing my intervention was uncalled-for, I jumped in anyway. “…Um, how, specifically?” I asked.

“I’m sure our mother won’t change her plans so easily, either, which means we have to take the time to talk to her, right? I’ll choose the right time to put in a good word with her,” Haruno answered with a lighthearted wink.

As Haruno said, their mother’s opinion would be difficult to change. I hadn’t exactly had a deep conversation with her—I hadn’t even known her for very long at all—but I’d heard enough from that exchange between her and Yukinoshita to know this. My incredibly personal impression of her was that she seemed like the type who had no use for other people’s opinions.

Her words had been superficially meant for her daughter, but I’d gotten the feeling they had actually been for me. If the two of them always interacted this way, I doubted Yukinoshita speaking with her alone would result in a real dialogue.

She was as stubborn as I’d assumed Yukinoshita was when we’d first met, and the way she could pretend to listen as she ignored you also reminded me of Haruno. Guess I should say they’re chips off the old block?

That being the case, Haruno’s age would give her the slight advantage of longer association with their mother. Maybe there would be some purpose to having her as backup.

Or so I thought, but Haruno suddenly burst into giggles. “But I don’t know if that would work or not.” Laughing off her own words, she upturned her champagne bottle to pour the rest into her glass.

I have no idea if she’s trustworthy…

Haruno’s laughter settled down, and then once the contents of her glass were in her stomach, her manner did a one-eighty, and she shot Yukinoshita a serious look. “But you should be ready to not come back here for a while.”

“…I’m sure,” Yukinoshita replied.

“Huh?” Yuigahama made a startled sound, and Haruno smiled wryly.

“She made me come here because she’s worried about Yukino-chan. So if Yukino-chan comes back, Mom won’t let her go that easily.”

Ah. Surveillance.

Or maybe I should call it management. Well, she is a minor, so some level of that is expected. They’re called “guardians” because they guard you.

“Pack your bags ahead of time,” Haruno continued. “And make sure to call Mom, too. If she tells you to come back suddenly, you’ll need to be pretty prepared.”

Ahhh, it’s like that thing my grandma tells me when my dad gets the idea to go to his parents’ house. The thing where she makes me eat enough food to kill me afterward. Grandma, I may be young, but there’s a limit to the size of my stomach…

But this wasn’t the time to be pondering the Hikigaya family drama. This was about the Yukinoshita family drama.

Yukinoshita briefly considered this, then nodded obediently. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“Then assuming you’ll be going back home…I guess I’ll be using this place for a while. You’re okay with that, right?” Haruno asked.

“It’s not as if it ever belonged to me in the first place, so you can do with it what you please,” Yukinoshita answered without hesitation.

Giving an overserious mm-hmm, Haruno showed her appreciation. “Thanks. It would’ve been a hassle to pack up my things again. Once you’re all ready, then come over.”

From what I could tell, Yukinoshita’s return home would be a fairly long sojourn. She would be commuting from her parents’ house to school as well, and her whole lifestyle base would shift over. I kinda thought, like, You can’t have that much to pack, do you? But I’m also a guy; I don’t think that’s how it works for girls. Girls need all sorts of stuff, like clothes and hair dryers and skincare and stuff. When Komachi travels, she carries a lot of bags, too.

I don’t understand those struggles, but Yuigahama, being a fellow girl, understood quite well. She raised her hand like she was volunteering in class. “Ohhh! I’ll help, too!”

“Oh, I couldn’t make you do that…,” said Yukinoshita.

“It’s totally okay! Actually, I want you to let me help! I like tidying and stuff!”

“But…”

With Yuigahama pushing (“C’mon, c’mon!”), Yukinoshita got more timid (“No, no…”), and they wound up arguing back and forth.

Just as I started to worry it would never end, Yuigahama lowered her head. “I mean, it seems like that’s all I can help you with…” Her muttering sounded despondent, and Yuigahama must have noticed that herself. She quickly lifted her head with a weak laugh. Yukinoshita was left in apologetic silence.

Watching was kind of painful for me, too. It would be counter to Yukinoshita’s wishes to butt in with my opinions about her own decision. But Yuigahama’s noble desire to do something was a valuable gift. So then what should I do?

I didn’t have to rack my brain over this. The words came out smoothly.

“Why not? Unpaid labor is hard to come by these days. Even the most sweatshoppy offices these days will have Labor Standards rushing in on them right away,” I said the moment the thought hit me—a very Hachiman kind of remark, blurting out nonsense like always. I thought it came out pretty well for an idea that had jumped straight to the conclusion with nothing resembling a process. Exploitation of passion for the job, unpaid overtime, two-day weekends (we didn’t say you could take those days off)… Ahhh, what a lovely ring it had.

But I was the only one basking in such self-satisfaction. Of course, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were both giving me harsh looks.

The one person cracking a smile here was Haruno. “Well, maybe that’s a good idea. Why don’t you stay the night while you’re at it? Once Yukino-chan goes back home, you won’t be able to come over so casually anymore.”

It was a very big-sister-like statement, far gentler than her usual. Beneath it was something almost mournful. It was true; if Yukinoshita was returning to her parents’ house, then Yuigahama would be staying over less frequently.

Even this one fact was a sign of something slowly changing, and it seemed that was enough to soften Yukinoshita out of her stubborn refusal. She’d been drawing back slightly, but now her back rounded just a little as her glance flicked up to Yuigahama. “…Would you…mind?” she asked, soft and reticent with a little blush. She must have felt shy about expressly asking.

With a broad grin, Yuigahama gave her a light smack on the thigh. “Yeah! Of course!”

“Thank you…” Maybe Yukinoshita didn’t like having her thigh smacked, or maybe such a direct smile was too much for her to look at, as she quickly said her thanks and sneaked her gaze away. The one that gaze fell on was Haruno. “…But if Yuigahama is to stay over, then we won’t have enough guest beds,” she said, examining her sister.

Haruno bopped the sofa under her. “I can handle this for one night. Besides, I’ll probably be drinking alone the whole time,” she replied as she shook her now-empty champagne bottle.

Yukinoshita sighed at her. “…I see. Well then, I’ll do that.”

“Yeah.” As if to indicate the conversation was over, Haruno hopped to her feet. “I’m off to the corner store. You need anything?” she asked.

The other girls shook their heads. Answering with a nod, Haruno snatched up her coat from where it hung over a chair and headed for the door.

As I watched her go, the clock caught my eye. It was getting pretty late, so this was the perfect moment for me to take my leave. “Then I’m going home, too.”

If I stayed and took my time hanging around, I’d get stuck helping Yukinoshita pack her bags, too. And if that happened, I’d be touching all sorts of girl things and wind up going Muh-heh! like the protagonist from a Mitsuru Adachi manga, and then through gradual erosion, I might find myself staying the night.

And that can’t happen! If I don’t escape now, then I’ll wind up with the same face as Tatsuya and Hiro! And, like, I just don’t belong in a girl’s room. It’s not very comfortable…

I quickly rose to my feet to follow after Haruno. As if in response, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama also stood and came after me. It seemed they were coming to see me off.

While I was crouched down to put on my shoes at the step by the door, Haruno shoved her feet into her sandals and went out the door ahead of me. Lovely. She won’t accommodate others even at times like these…

Not that I wanted to go out with her and have an awkward time in the elevator, either. So I put on my shoes slowly to deliberately create as much distance between us as possible.

Then from behind, a shoehorn was quietly held out to me.

“Oh, thanks.” I took it with gratitude and turned around to see a meek-looking Yukinoshita.

After releasing the shoehorn, her hand swayed idly, then went to hug her other arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you listen to me rambling…,” she muttered, head hanging, and I responded with a shallow nod.

It had been rambling, and it probably wasn’t going to change much. It was just that Yukinoshita was going to do what she had decided herself—a confirmation of the obvious.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I said. “It needed to happen.”

For her, and for me, too.

Standing up, I tapped my toes to make sure my shoes were on properly, then returned the shoehorn to Yukinoshita.

“…Thank you,” she said with a little smile as she accepted it.

It made me feel antsy, and I let myself look away. “I didn’t do anything, though. If you’re gonna thank anyone, thank Yuigahama,” I said, turning the subject to the other girl behind her. “Good luck with packing.”

Yuigahama clasped a fist tight in front of her chest. “Leave it to me! I’m okay with organization!”

That implies she’s bad at other domestic tasks. …Well, I’d never had the impression she was great at cleaning and organizing, either. But now that her cooking had improved, she would probably learn to do other things, too.

It was slow enough that you wouldn’t notice it, the shift so trivial that you might miss it, but we were changing, bit by bit.

“See you, then.” I put my hand on the doorknob, turning back my head.

Yuigahama waved both her hands in front of her chest, while Yukinoshita gave the tiniest wave, half-raised, just over her waist.

“Yeah. See you, Hikki.”

“Take care.”

Having them say good-bye to me like that was kind of awkward. With a wordless nod in response, I hurried out.

I was alone in the elevator, and when I got off again, the lobby was as silent as I’d expected. The time being what it was, there wouldn’t be that many people coming and going.

This was a quiet residential area, and since it was a high-society apartment district, well, it was no wonder there were fewer passersby as the night drew darker. I felt that personally as I took a step out into the lobby.

There, I found a woman in attire not very becoming of a high-class residential district.

It was Haruno Yukinoshita, who I’d thought had left ahead of me.

Her pile-fabric hooded parka was striped in pale pastels, fluffy and soft-looking. It had a zipper all the way up the front, but she had it loosely opened at the chest, and her graceful, shapely legs were bared beneath her fluffy shorts. With a coat casually slung over her shoulders, she clashed a little with the stylish interior decoration of the lobby, and there was a precarious beauty to that contrast.

Her looks already get her attention, so it’s kind of unfair for her to be so totally unguarded…

I wouldn’t normally want to start up a conversation with her, but it would be weird to ignore her when she was standing around the entrance. With her grinning at me and beckoning, I had no choice but to approach.

“…I thought you left ahead of me,” I said.

Haruno giggled, then whispered like she was sharing a secret, “This makes it like a private rendezvous. It’s nice, right?”

“I think that’s called an ambush.”

Even if both count as “waiting,” they’re as different as Aming and Yuming. Oh, but when you think about it, those songs “I’ll Wait” and “Ambush” are just different routes to the same end, huh? They’re both scary, ultimately…

But the scariest of all had to be Haruno Yukinoshita. She started walking like she had no doubt I would follow. The closest convenience store was probably the one by the station, and I was heading in that direction to go home anyway, so it was fine…

Following after Haruno as she walked a step ahead, I went along the street of apartment buildings. When we came out to the wide main road, the nighttime winter breeze blew on through. The coldness stroking her cheeks made Haruno hunch into her coat, burying her face.

Then she seemed to notice something, sniffing. She looked at the shoulders of her coat and immediately scowled. What is it…? I wondered, staring at her, and Haruno thrust an arm out at me.

“Mm,” she said grumpily as she came up to my side. The hand she’d reached out remained dangling there as if it meant something.

Uhhh… What the hell…?

Wait, calm down… She wants me to hold her hand? Huh, why? To get my fingerprints? That’s it. Amazing deduction. Oh nooo, she’s gonna break into my iPhone and make unauthorized charges! Stop it! Stop rolling for gacha until you get a five-star!

Flustered and increasingly uncomfortable, I turned away, and suddenly, I caught the odor of cigarettes. “…Ahhh, is that the smell?”

“Uh-huh,” Haruno replied, but her attention was not on me, and she withdrew her hand and sniff-sniffed again.

It had probably gotten into her coat while she was drinking at a bar. I’m familiar with that myself, from the time I had a part-time gig at an izakaya. Maybe that shower had been to get the smell out of her hair.

Perhaps smokers aren’t really bothered by it after all that time around it, but the smell is gross to a nonsmoker. The kind that was bothering Haruno had a particularly strong tarry odor, very much the old-fashioned pungent tobacco scent.

The menthol type would be bearable, as would the ones with an added sweet flavor like vanilla or something fruity, the slim kind that women seemed to like.

…So she was drinking with a man?

A man? Yep, a man. Her boyfriend, huh? Wait. For real? She has a boyfriend?

Well, she was an adult; it wasn’t strange for her to have a boyfriend, you know? But actually coming into contact with this sort of information felt really harsh for some reason. Like a voice actress announcing her marriage. Just stop titling your blog posts “An Announcement.” It gets my heart racing. I have to go lie down. And then I’ll even lie about. And then I’ll even lie down on the job.

But this was no time to be going through indescribable shock—actually, I’m not really shocked at all! Listen! It’s just that I got a little startled by the news! I-it’s not like I have a crush on her, okay?!

Phew… If she were someone closer to me, that would’ve been a solid hit. Specifically, if it were Komachi, or Komachi, or Komachi. Also, maybe Komachi!

After letting my mind wander for a bit, I reached a momentary calm. Komachi really is great; she works on sudden fevers, heart palpitations, and shortness of breath— Wait, is she some kind of heart remedy?

Anyway, if Haruno’s coat smelled this strongly of cigarettes, then she must have been at that bar for a pretty long time. I assumed she’d used some deodorizing spray or something, but the smell was too deep even for that.

“…You were drinking for quite a while, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah. They wouldn’t quite let me go. I just about wound up going till morning.” Haruno sighed with some annoyance.

“Uh…uh-huh.”

Going till morning? Isn’t that kinda, y’know, indecent? I mean, like, I totally thought Live TV Till Morning! was a sexy show. And then because of that, It’s Morning! It’s Live Travel Salad has a fairly sexy vibe, too.

Anyway, I had acquired information on Haruno I never wanted to know… Has the Weekly Hachiman dropped another explosive bombshell?! No, I meant that to be more like celebratory fireworks. Sometimes our scoops are positive, you know? But this was not the time for such lame-ass excuses. In fact, if you considered that it was her drinking that had made her act like this now, then I’d be thankful for it. There was no reason for me to be shocked.

The fact was that normally, I think Haruno would have interrogated Yukinoshita more. But she seemed almost cheerful now.

Because I kept looking over at her face, I wound up a step behind her, while Haruno stretched with a hnn. “Good thing I could get back early! Thanks to that, I got to hear what Yukino-chan wanted to say,” she said, before letting out a sigh that almost sounded relieved, and I fell silent.

“…”

My lack of engagement must have bothered Haruno; she turned back to me with a “Hmm?” She seemed to be pondering the meaning of my silence.

I gave a small shake of my head to say it was nothing. “…Oh, just thinking it was a little surprising,” I said.

Haruno spun on her heel and said in a silly tone, “What is?”

“What’s so surprising? I mean…that you’d just listen to her talk.”

“Come on. Of course I would. I am her big sister.” Haruno let out an exasperated chuckle, and I thought she was going to keep walking backward, but then she turned forward again. “You’ll hear out Komachi-chan when she has a request, too, won’t you?”

“…Well, when you put it like that, I do get what you mean.”

If it were about Komachi and me, her point would make sense. If Komachi asked me for something, something she wanted from the heart, I’m sure I’d try to get it for her without a moment’s hesitation. The only answer I had for a Komachi comparison was a groan.

That made Haruno smile. “Right? If that’s what Yukino-chan’s chosen, then I’ll support her in that. Whether it’s right or wrong.”

“If it’s wrong, then wouldn’t it be logical to stop her?”

“She wouldn’t listen to me. And I don’t care either way. It’s all the same whether it goes well or whether she gives up on it…,” she muttered. I couldn’t see her face, but I wanted to know what it looked like right then. I picked up the pace to catch up.

But I didn’t get much closer, only enough to get a peek at her profile. Eventually, we crossed the overpass that spanned a major road and came to the side path that went through the park.

Pale-orange streetlamps stood in rows on a field of browning grass. With each step forward, the light swept over her, casting its warm glow and cold shadow on her white cheeks. It was difficult to catch her expression—just like her vague, seemingly contradictory words.

After passing through the trees covering the field, the view opened up again as we came to a promenade that ran through the central area of the park.

When we reached a tree-lined path that ran alongside a long, continuous fountain, Haruno let her pace relax a bit and looked up at the sky. I did the same and saw the crescent moon floating there and, underneath it, the dual high-rise apartment towers wreathed in a hazy, pallid light.

Hopping along the stairs, Haruno turned back to me. “Giving up and letting go is how you become an adult.”

“Huh. Is that right…?” Narrowing your world probably is the approach to adulthood. Shaving your options down, eliminating possibilities, carving out a more certain image of the future. This was something I could understand, and maybe Yukinoshita’s decision was also of that type.

But as Haruno spoke, there was a hint of something almost plaintive in her sorrowful eyes that bothered me. Maybe it was the distance in the way she was talking, as if this wasn’t actually personal to her.

“…Um, so you’ve experienced something similar?” I asked.

“Oh, I dunno.” She chuckled at me. “This isn’t about me, is it? Right now, we’re talking about Yukino-chan… This has probably been the first time she’s actually been open about that. You watch over her, too, Hikigaya.” I sensed she was implicitly telling me not to interfere; the nuance here was similar to that other time, when she’d told me over the phone that I’m “nice.”

I had no objection to the idea of “respecting Yukinoshita’s will” in and of itself. I had no right to interject my opinion here anyway. I could agree with what Haruno was saying. This was probably how I’d wanted it to go. And I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. If Haruno Yukinoshita would approve of it, then there was no need to find problems in it.

“…Yeah.”

Haruno must have been satisfied with my reply, as she folded her hands casually behind her, arching her back as she laughed happily. “Heh-heh, here I am, being the big sister again…”

“How about you always be her big sister?” I said jokingly.

But Haruno had an instant reply. “Don’t wanna.” She turned her head in my direction, letting her smile slide over to me. “I’m not like you. You’re always doing the big brother thing, though.”

“…I mean…I am a big brother.” Why’s she saying something so obvious?

I’m a veteran, having been one ever since Komachi was born. I didn’t even have to be conscious of it—I was made to live as a perpetual big brother. I could say that with pride.

Haruno gave me a long look, then suddenly burst into laughter. “I see. What a nice big brother. Wish I could’ve had a big brother like you.” She cackled, although I’m not completely sure it was a joke, then slung an arm around my shoulders as if giving in to the alcohol. She put her weight on me as she leaned in coquettishly.

Her softness and nice smile really made me anxious. “Hey…you’re annoying when you’re drunk…”

“I’m not drunk! I’m not.”

I tried to gently peel her off, but she swayed on her unsteady legs, stepping along beside me, and wouldn’t quite back off.

As we continued on, the tree-lined path ended, and we approached the way to the station.

Go over two crosswalks, and that would lead you right to the outlet mall. Though operating hours were over, the avenue that led to the square in front of the station was lit by warm lights. Haruno still had her arm around my shoulders, and I was getting anxious about someone seeing us.

We reached the point where the station was to the right and the convenience store was to the left, and I carefully shrugged her off and scooted a step away. “Um…can you manage to get home?”

“Oh, you’re sooo niiice. Wooow. What a gentleman!” She smacked my shoulder like she was saying, So you’re the Gentleman Friend who’s good at being nice to women, huh?!

…God, she’s annoying. My face stiffened, but I got it moving again to give her a particularly nasty look. “I’m not a gentleman. I do intend to go straight home.”

Haruno smiled pleasantly again. “I’m all right.” But then she tucked away that smile, and the tone of her response was very cool. I could have sworn her eyes were tipsy before, but now they shone with a bone-chillingly cold light. “That’s not enough to get me drunk,” she said, but I didn’t know how much she’d had.

From her tone, she was already different from before. I could tell this was the usual Haruno Yukinoshita, no twists or trembles or shrillness. She sounded just like always—beautiful, enchanting, with an intoxicating ring to her voice, like it would haunt you till death.

And so, to keep myself from being sucked in, I took my usual stance. I looked away with a sigh, keeping my voice quiet enough that maybe she’d hear, maybe she wouldn’t. “…I hear that all drunks say that,” I said sarcastically.

“I really don’t get drunk… Maybe I can’t,” she murmured. She’d hooked me in, and I found myself glancing at Haruno again. When I did, she was looking into the distance.

Though her cheeks were still pink, her gaze was utterly cool, and though her lips were drawn, the expression was not a smile. “No matter how much I drink, there’s a part of myself behind it that’s calm. I can even tell what expression I’m making. I can laugh and enjoy myself, but it feels like it’s happening to someone else.”

Even now, her words were still distant, as if she were describing someone else. The way she spoke about herself was distinctly objective, and it was vague where the subject of the sentence would be. Her idle, unprompted remark seemed like a mix of truth and lies.

When she noticed I’d fallen silent and was just staring at her, she stuck out her tongue to play it off as a joke. “…So you toss it all back and get sick and puke, then after that, you just fall asleep.”

“That’s the worst way to get drunk…,” I replied lightly, going along with her “joke.”

She put a hand on her mouth and giggled. “It really is.” Then she started walking again, taking one step away from me, then another. As I watched her go, assuming she would continue on her way to the convenience store, she turned back to me.

That smile seemed to have a touch of affection and sympathy. It was the kindest smile I’d ever seen from her. “But you’ll probably be the same… Let me make a prophecy for you. You won’t be able to get drunk,” she said. The remark was far too unsettling for a farewell.

“Don’t, please—in the future, I plan to be either an über-corporate slave forced into drinking with my coworkers, or an ultra-househusband who’ll have a beer at lunch in the middle of the day on my wife’s dime.” I responded with a bold and unpleasant smile, then took just one step forward as well.

When I turned back after that, she was still there, watching me go with an expression that was more innocent than usual. There was a comfortable distance between us, about three steps in total. It made me say too much.

“…And, like, I think you really are drunk,” I said.

The words she’d said, that genuinely happy smile. It was as if she was exposing the real Haruno Yukinoshita, and I could only think she was actually drunk.

She gave me a blank look. “Am I…? I suppose I am. Let’s call it that, yeah.” She brought a hand to her mouth, hiding the quirk of a smile there, and nodded innocently.

As Haruno waved her hand with a “See you,” I bowed to her and turned away.

She blamed the alcohol and put on another mask—while telling the great lie that alcohol is a lubricant to open up the heart. She never does show her true face, but she’ll deliberately show you the cracks in the mask. I still don’t know what her truth is.

If you judged that contradictory nature of hers—perhaps just the way she got by—to be shrewd wiles born from experience, then that would indeed make her an adult. More of one than me anyway. When she can’t ultimately accept something, she’s capable of pretending she’s forgotten it entirely.

The night had grown late, and the town slumbered in quiet darkness. The only lights were the hazy ones from buildings and the taillamps of taxis waiting for customers. As I left the station area, the sounds of the hustle and bustle there grew distant.

It was so quiet, just one thing she’d said to me wouldn’t leave my ears.

You won’t be able to get drunk.

I got the feeling that prophecy would come true.